Page 22 of Vicious Behaviors (The Next Vicious Generation #3)

Marcello

Ever since Annamaria had that altercation with those assholes a few months back, I’ve made it a point to pick her up from school every day just to ensure her safety.

Sometimes Stella tags along, but most days, this brief window is the only real time I get with my little sister.

Not that she ever seems thrilled about it.

In fact, I’m pretty sure she feels like she’s being punished for those pricks’ actions. Nevertheless, rain or shine, I’m always there to pick her up.

I lean against the same tree trunk every day, which has a perfect view of Sacred Heart’s main entrance, watching the chaos unfold as students flood through the doors as if they’ve been trapped inside too long. Backpacks swing, laughter echoes, as everyone rushes to get home.

I spot Lucky first instead of my sister, his arm slung around Frankie’s shoulders as if he couldn’t bear to be more than two inches apart from her. A scene I have seen before. It’s as if Lucky is surgically attached to his girlfriend.

Frankie sees me before he does, her face lighting up with a smile as she guides Lucky my way. Lucky, on the other hand, doesn’t look nearly as pleased.

If I had to guess, I’d say my brother’s the jealous type. He hates it when Frankie gives any kind of attention to anyone who isn’t him. The only time he doesn’t seem offended is when she dotes on her brother, Darius.

Not that I can blame him. Possessiveness is a Romano family trait, after all. And God knows mine isn’t exactly my most redeeming quality, either.

“Hi,” Frankie greets warmly.

I return her smile, while Lucky offers me nothing more than a curt nod.

He’s been especially prickly with me lately since Kirill drove her home a few days ago and told him not to send me as his errand boy to pick up his girlfriend at his club.

Not only was he pissed that Frankie went to Little Russia without telling him, but he basically threw a full-on tantrum over her calling me for a ride instead of him.

Which she didn’t. She called Stella. Not that he gave me time to explain it to him.

I let him take his frustrations out on me, since I had bigger things to worry about than my brother’s jealous paranoia of stealing his girl one day. I had my own woman problems to sort out.

“Where’s Enzo?” I ask, noticing his absence.

“What’s it to you?” Lucky shoots back, still sour. But the attitude drops the second Frankie elbows him sharply in the ribs.

“Be nice.”

“Nice isn’t why you love me, baby. So why start now?” he says with a wicked grin.

Frankie’s cheeks turn pink, but she rolls her eyes to cover it up since she doesn’t want anyone to see how easily he melts her.

This is the second time this week Frankie’s had to step in and tell the men in her life to treat me with some respect.

And honestly, despite the whole kidnapping-in-Russia situation, I like them together.

Frankie is a good influence on Lucky. She makes him take a beat to think about his actions before he impulsively takes them.

She also makes him care about things and people, beyond himself.

And that’s a first, since Lucky has always been pretty self-involved.

On the other hand, Lucky brings out something lighter in Frankie.

Like she doesn’t have to take life so seriously all the time.

Sure, they bicker constantly and act like they’re always two seconds away from ripping each other’s heads off, but something tells me that’s just their version of foreplay.

And after the way Frankie stood up for Annamaria during the assault, she earned herself a permanent spot on my short list of people to protect.

She’s family now, even if her last name says otherwise. Though her bloodline makes her the Outfit’s enemy on paper, you can’t help who you love in real life. When someone matters, you fight to make it work, even if everything’s stacked against you.

At this moment, the image of Izzie’s pretty face—with her busted-up lip and stubborn eyes—emerges before my eyes, and I’m not sure why. But for some reason, the flashing image twists something deep within me that I’d rather leave alone.

“Enzo’s with Alejandro,” Frankie says, confusing the sudden tension in my shoulders for concern for my brother’s whereabouts. “He’s fine.”

“If I know Enzo, he’s more than fine,” Lucky adds with a smirk. “Anyway, nice to see you, bro, but Frankie and I have plans.”

In other words, he’s taking her back to Jude’s apartment again, before picking Darius up after his extracurriculars. I have no idea why Lucky insists on using our brother’s penthouse apartment to make out with his girlfriend when the Pakhan bought a penthouse of her own for Frankie and Darius.

Another reason why I should really start looking for my own place.

“Do you want us to wait with you for Anna?” Frankie offers sweetly, even as my brother scowls as if she just suggested canceling Christmas.

“No, that’s okay. You two have fun.”

Lucky grins, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Good man. See ya.”

He doesn’t give Frankie the chance to say anything else before tugging her away toward his car, afraid I might change my mind.

I chuckle under my breath, watching them go. Their chaotic energy is oddly comforting.

However, my smile fades when I glance back at the school steps and spot Annamaria. She’s standing there, grinning at her phone as she quickly types something. The second her eyes lift and land on me, her smile disappears. Just… gone. As if someone flicked a switch.

She walks toward me, slower than usual, while discreetly putting away her phone in her bag. There’s a frown on her face now, and I hate that I’m the one who put it there.

I tell myself not to take it personally. But I do. It stings a little, knowing my presence is the reason the light in her eyes went out.

“Hi, Mar,” she says softly when she reaches me, going up on her toes to press a chaste kiss on my cheek.

“Hi, angel,” I murmur, taking her school bag and slinging it over my shoulder. “Did you have a nice day?”

She shrugs noncommittally and heads toward my car without looking at me. “It was okay.”

“You don’t sound too convinced,” I probe gently, watching her closely as I step beside her.

“It’s school, Marcello. Nothing to be enthusiastic about.”

My frown deepens. Unlike the twins, Annamaria’s social presence at Sacred Heart is… quiet. Nonexistent, almost. A lot like mine used to be back when I roamed those same halls, head down and fists clenched.

Though it should be different with her. I had my reasons to keep people away. Dark, ugly reasons I still carry with me. But Annamaria? She has the purest heart out of all of us. She’s kind, soft-spoken, and generous to a fault.

Hmm. Maybe that’s exactly why people stay clear. They just don’t know what to make of her. Perhaps her soft heart is too gentle for a place that only knows how to tear things down. It’s a burden she bears alone. But if I could carry it for her, I wouldn’t hesitate.

I open the passenger door, and she slides in without a word. I round the car and get in, but I don’t start the engine just yet. My attention is still on her frown.

“What were you smiling at a few minutes ago?” I ask, remembering how her face lit up while texting.

“Huh?” She looks at me, caught off guard.

“On the steps. You were staring at your phone like it was the funniest thing in the world.”

Her cheeks go bright pink, and she quickly turns her gaze out the windshield. “It was nothing, Marcello. Just some silly meme Stella sent me, that’s all.”

Of course, it had to be Stella. Like me, Stella would do anything to bring even the smallest bit of joy into our sister’s lonely world.

I nod, though something about her tone tells me there’s more to it. Still, I let it slide since I don’t want to further dampen her mood. In fact, I’m going to try to improve the damage I’ve done.

“I was thinking,” I say, switching gears, “before we go home, we could stop in the city at that ice cream parlor you love. What do you say?”

Her eyes snap back to mine, lighting up like the damn sun. “You mean Serendipity? Really?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Oh, I definitely want to.” She grins, giving me a side hug. “Thanks, Mar.”

Watching that smile back on her face is worth every detour.

I start the engine and pull out of the parking lot.

Annamaria immediately commandeers the radio, skipping over my alternative metal playlists until she reaches her desired album—Tortured Poets Department by Taylor Swift.

Not exactly my scene since I’m currently more into Deftones’s White Pony, but I let it play regardless.

Annamaria sings along under her breath, joyfully tapping her fingers on her knee in rhythm, and easing the knot in my chest for being in her happy place.

Taylor might not scream through the speakers like Chino Moreno, but her truth is just as powerful.

And if it makes Annamaria happy, then hell, I’ll learn every lyric if I have to.

Unlike my other siblings, Annamaria is easy to please. Ice cream and Taylor Swift. That’s the magic formula. Most girls her age would rather shop till they drop or gossip about which guy made eyes at them. But not our Anna. She prefers simplicity over chaos, honesty over ego. Always has.

Money, power, status, these things mean nothing to her.

It’s ironic, really, considering she was born into a family drowning in all three.

But that’s the rub. Our name, our reputation, the weight of the Romano legacy, it’s always sat a little too heavy on her tender heart.

It’s like she wears our world like a dress two sizes too short.

Never quite fitting, always trying to shrink herself to make it feel less suffocating.

Perhaps that’s why I try so hard to give her these small moments of normalcy. Moments where she doesn’t have to be anything but herself.