Page 16 of Vicious Behaviors

“So? Do I have the job now or what?” I ask, voice casual, as if I didn’t just dominate a man twice my size in front of an audience of testosterone-fueled skeptics.

DeLuca ends his call, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’ll do.”

“Thought so.” I grin.

“Get yourself cleaned up and dressed and come see me in my office.”

“Will do, boss.”

Once DeLuca heads to his domain, Jimmy sneaks his way into the ring, bringing me a clean towel, and my discarded clothes, and boots.

“Thanks.” I smile at the kid as I wipe my sweaty brow. “Told you I only needed your shorts for a few minutes.”

“That you did. Keep them. You deserve a trophy after dropping Rico the way that you did.” He coyly smiles. “But this time, maybe you should use the locker room to change. These guys will be talking about the peep show you gave for months.”

“You’re probably right.” I chuckle.

But just as Jimmy is pointing toward the locker room area, eyes the color of an angry ocean pin me in place.

I don’t move. I can’t.

Not when I’m staring into a goddamn riptide.

Marcello Romano. Nice to meet you, at last.

Chapter 4

Marcello

Anna’s soft sobs pull me into the backyard, where she’s crouching on the grass and cradling something in her hands as tears stream silently down her chubby cheeks.

“Anna? What’s wrong?” I ask, concern swelling in my chest for my baby sister.

She lifts her head, her crystal blue eyes—so similar to mine—now red and swollen.

“He’s sick. He’s sick,” she stammers between sobs.

“Who’s sick, Anna?” I ask, stepping closer.

“Birdie,” she sobs.

And that’s when I see it—a small sparrow with one wing nearly torn clean from its frail little body. The injury is so severe that the bird doesn’t even try to move away from Annamaria’s gentle grasp. It just lies there. Shaking. In agony.

“Save him. Save him,” she pleads, holding the bird out to me with trembling hands.

“Anna…“I begin, but the words catch in my throat.

How do I tell my five-year-old baby sister that there’s no saving this bird?

“Please, Mar. Please,” she whispers, and the way her voice cracks saying my name nearly rips me in two. My chest aches seeing both gentle souls in such pain. So much so that it’s becoming harder and harder to breathe.

I force a soft smile and sit cross-legged beside her on the grass.

“Give him here,” I say gently.

“What are you going to do?” she asks, worry flickering in her eyes as she hesitates, suddenly shielding the bird away from me.

“What do you want me to do?”