Page 46 of Vicious Behaviors

But not when it comes to Annamaria.

“Stella’s always been an open book with you,” I remind. “I doubt she’s keeping anything important to herself. I mean, take her induction, for example. You were the first person she ran to give the news to.”

“I know. It’s just… I don’t know,” she mumbles, unconvinced. “I can tell there is something else she’s holding back. She’s never lied to me before. Never. I don’t like that sheis now. It makes me feel like she doesn’t trust me. And that… hurts.”

There’s a crease of genuine concern on her brow, and I know this isn’t just teenage paranoia. She feels that something isn’t right in her world where Stella is concerned. And if she feels this way, then maybe it’s worth checking up on.

“Tell you what,” I say, my tone soft but certain. “How about I talk to her?”

“No,” Annamaria says quickly, shaking her head. “If Stella is keeping some kind of secret, asking her about it directly will only make things worse. I just thought… maybe you might already know whatever it is.”

I frown, my mind instantly working through a hundred possibilities and only coming up with one—Kirill Petrov. It’s unnerving how little he cared that the fragile peace between our families could’ve been shattered by the way his younger brother pulled a gun on me as Kirill all but dragged Stella out of my car. There’s a level of familiarity between them I can’t ignore. An understanding that I don’t like.

Still, Stella doesn’t keep secrets from Annamaria. And she definitely doesn’t keep secrets from me. We’re as close as siblings can be—maybe even more than that. Aside from my father, she’s the only person who knows the truth about me. About the monster inside me. The things I’ve done… the things I still want to do. And despite all that, she’s never turned me away. She knows me.

There’s no way she’d hide something important from me. But then again, I didn’t think Stella was capable of keeping secrets from Annamaria either.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” I tell Annamaria gently, my voice steady. “But if it’s bothering you this much, I’ll look into it. Quietly. She won’t know.”

She looks relieved but not entirely comforted. “I just don’t want her to get in trouble.”

I smirk faintly. “Stella lives for trouble.” But Annamaria doesn’t smile. Not even a twitch.

“Mar…” she says, more hesitant now. “Do you think maybe Dad has something to do with it? I mean… the Outfit?” She lowers her voice as if the syndicate’s name alone could summon something dark.

“You think he put her on a job already? Before taking theomertà?”

“He put you on jobs before you were initiated,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe that’s what she’s hiding from me. So I don’t worry.”

I reach across the table and offer my hands. Annamaria slips hers into mine without hesitation.

“If Stella was doing Outfit business, I’d know,” I say with full conviction. “Whatever this is… it’s not that.”

Her shoulders relax a little, her fingers still curled around mine. “Okay. If you’re sure, then… whatever it is, I’m positive she’ll tell me sooner or later. I can wait.”

I squeeze her hands once before letting go. “She will.”

What I don’t tell my baby sister is that her fears aren’t as far-fetched as I made them seem. Stella is adamant about impressing our father before her induction. So much so that she’s already taken on a couple of low-level enforcer jobs for Dom, with our father’s, albeit reluctant, blessing.

And while Anna worries about what the Outfit might do to Stella, she doesn’t realize that Stella is choosing this life. With eyes wide open.

She’s not like Anna. Or even like me. Stella is a storm contained in a bottle, just waiting to be uncorked. She doesn’t care about approval or legacy. She just wants to earn her place. And if the men pulling the strings at the top wouldstop underestimating her for two seconds, they’d see she’s more capable than all of us combined.

I might be the heir to the Romano throne, but I have no illusions that Stella would make a far better leader than I.

She doesn’t need a voice in her ear to tell her what to do. She just knows.

I’m still thinking about Stella and how close she is to proving every nonbeliever wrong, when I feel it. That prickle. The unmistakable sense of being watched.

My back straightens and my shoulders square automatically. I scan the room with sharp eyes, assessing my surroundings. And that’s when I see her—Izzie. She’s smiling at me from across the room as if it were just another sunny afternoon, instead of the powder keg waiting to blow.

“Marcello?” Annamaria follows my line of sight. “Who’s that waving at you?”

‘Trouble,’the voice whispers coldly in my ear. ‘Trouble wrapped in a red winter coat and misfit in her eyes.’

Fuck. Not now. Not fucking now!

“Give me a second, will you?” I say, grabbing a napkin to wipe the corner of my mouth, already bracing myself to shut Izzie down fast, along with the monster filing its fangs.