Page 23 of Vicious Behaviors (The Next Vicious Generation #3)

We arrive at Serendipity, the cozy little ice cream parlor tucked between rows of boutiques and bookstores, and order one of their signature sundaes to share. Chocolate, hazelnut drizzle, two spoons. We take a booth in the corner where I can keep a vigilant eye on the door and dig in.

“Mar,” she says after a few quiet bites, brows pulling together like a knot. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“You can talk to me about anything, angel,” I say, leaning in a little, reading the subtle worry in her eyes.

She gives me a little, shy smile, then looks down at the sundae, stirring it softly with her spoon. “Have you noticed that Stella’s been… a bit off lately?”

I straighten up, getting caught a little off guard by the question. “What do you mean, ‘off?’”

“I don’t know… just off.” She shrugs and drops her spoon. Her shoulders sag a little as she leans back into the booth. “Ever since she got back from Russia, she’s been distant. Like she’s hiding something from me.”

I chuckle, not to brush it off but because… well, it’s Stella.

Stella loves her privacy. Loves her secrets even more.

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 she is 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 the omertà? ”

“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 would stop 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.

Of course, Izzie doesn’t wait for an invitation. She just struts over, all bright smiles and deliberate charm before my ass has time to even get off the seat.

“Hi,” she beams, eyes flicking between me and my sister. “Looks like we had the same idea. Sunny days like these deserve to be celebrated with ice cream, am I right?” Her voice is sweet, singsong, but I know her well enough to hear the intent behind it.

The moment her gaze lands on my sister, my body goes rigid. Every protective instinct I have spikes to red, and it’s a miracle the devil in me doesn’t claw her eyes out this very second.

“Marcello,” Annamaria says curiously, unaware of the building tension in the air. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

‘She’s not our friend. She’s our problem,’ the voice hisses.

When I don’t answer, since I’m using all my strength to keep the demon at bay, Annamaria introduces herself.

“Hi. I’m Annamaria,” she greets, smiling at Izzie. “Marcello’s sister. And you are?”

“Izzie. I’m a trainer at De Luca’s gym. I’ve actually already trained with your sister, Stella,” Izzie says, smiling wide. “But I have to say what a serendipitous little run-in this is. I was just thinking about your brother… and poof, here he is.”

She flashes me a grin meant to disarm, but all it does is make my jaw clench harder. My fists stay hidden beneath the table, tight enough to turn bone white. I don’t return her smile. Not now. Not ever.

“You were thinking about my brother?” Annamaria asks, curiosity lighting up her face as she gives Izzie a quick head-to-toe once-over, probably filing away the entire image to report back to Stella later.

“Yes,” Izzie says with a pleasant smile. “I have a client interested in taking up some kickboxing, and since Marcello far excels at it than I, I was hoping I could sweet-talk him into giving her a few lessons.”

“Is that so?” Annamaria coos, holding back a cheeky grin. “That sounds like a great opportunity for you. What do you say, Mar? Can Izzie sweet-talk you?”

I groan under my breath at the spark in my sister’s eyes.

“I’m not a trainer,” I say flatly.

“I know that,” Izzie replies, flicking her hair back so it flows effortlessly over her shoulder, her voice a feigned coy. “But maybe you could make an exception? For me?”

My eyes lock onto hers in an unyielding stare. She’s never flirted with me before. Not even a hint. So why is she putting on this act now? Just to charm Anna?

No. This isn’t about charm. It’s about control. She’s demonstrating hers, picking the perfect opportunity where I’m unable to demonstrate mine.

“I don’t do exceptions,” I snap, standing up. “Come on, Anna. Let’s go home.”

My sister’s bright smile drops like glass to the floor. But not Izzie’s. No. She’s thriving on this.

This woman is dangerous. Very fucking dangerous.

“Oh, well. Had to ask,” she says before turning to my sister. “Nice meeting you, Annamaria.”

“You too,” Anna replies a little more quietly, sliding out of the booth. She waves Izzie goodbye and starts walking toward the door.

“Go ahead,” I say, when she looks back and doesn’t see me following her. “I’ll meet you by the car.”

Annamaria nods, suspiciously glancing between us before walking out. The moment she’s gone, Izzie’s fake-friendly smile fades.

“She’s lovely. Wish I could say the same about you.”

I lean in close, her perfume clashing with every defensive instinct I have.

“Never, and I mean never, approach me when I’m with my family again.”

“Ouch,” she says, placing a hand on her chest as if I just stabbed her. “And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

“Is that what you want?” I ask, my voice low and venomous. “For us to be friends?”

Her gaze flickers to my mouth for a split second, and just like that, my pulse quickens.

What game is she playing?

“If you’d rather we be enemies,” she says with a wicked grin, “that could be fun, too.”

And with that, she walks out of the parlor before I can make any sense of what she means by that remark.

‘She’s toying with us,’ the voice grunts.

I know. And I don’t fucking like it either.

There’s a difference between dangerous and lethal. She’s the former, I’m the latter. If Izzie keeps pushing her way into my life, I’ll ensure she understands exactly what that difference means.

By the time I get to the car, I’m fuming. Annamaria waits patiently in the passenger seat, and once she senses I’ve calmed down—at least on the surface—she ventures to speak.

“She seemed nice,” she says carefully.

“That woman is not nice,” I growl.

“Are you sure? She seemed like she wanted to be more than nice to you.” Annamaria presses her lips together, trying not to laugh.

“It’s not funny, Anna.”

“I disagree.” She giggles. “It’s very obvious she likes you, and you can’t handle it.”

“She doesn’t like me,” I mumble, checking the mirrors to ensure we aren’t being followed.

“Again, agree to disagree. That whole bit about training her client? It was just an excuse to come and talk to you.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t.”

It wasn’t about a client. Because there is no client.

This… was a warning. A message that she can get to me whenever she wants.

‘You let your guard down, and now we’re paying the price. What if she came for Anna? What then?’ the voice hisses through my mind, angry for not putting Izzie in her place.

“I can’t wait to tell Stella.”

“What?” I snap, turning toward her. “You’re not telling Stella anything.”

“Why not?” she asks, confused.

“Because.”

“That’s not a reason, Mar. Besides, when was the last time a girl showed any interest in you?

” Never. I’ve never let anyone get close enough for that to happen.

When I don’t reply to Annamaria fast enough, she fills the silence.

“Stella will want to know that you have an admirer.” She wiggles her brows.

That’s exactly why she can’t. If Izzie is a Fed like Kirill warned me, then either he or Stella will slit Izzie’s throat before she can even open her mouth to offer an excuse.

And that can’t happen. My father’s instructions were very clear.

Keep my head down. Nothing raises more alarm bells than an FBI agent getting killed.

‘That’s not our problem. Let them kill the noisy bitch,’ the voice whispers, laughing. ‘Tell Stella. Tell Kirill. Let them handle the problem. Since you’re too much of a coward to do it.’

“No!” I shout, punching the steering wheel. Annamaria instantly flinches, cowering towards the door.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Now, I’ve scared her. I’ve scared my own baby sister.

I take a deep breath and let the rage bleed off. Let the monster inside me crawl back to the depths of hell where he came from.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize once I regain full control. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay, Mar. I know you’d never hurt me,” she replies gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

Shame and guilt suffocate me as I look at Annamaria and see nothing but love in her eyes. She might not be afraid of me, but sometimes… I even scare myself.

I hate this. I hate that the people I love most still have to worry if I’ll lose control. That I can snap like this without meaning to.

“And don’t worry. I won’t tell Stella about us seeing Izzie today either. I can keep a secret, Mar. Promise.”

“Thank you,” I retort, suddenly feeling drained and exhausted.

I’m not ready for anyone to know about Izzie being a Fed. Not yet. Not until I figure out exactly what she has on my family. What she has on me.

If she’s a real threat to my family, then I’ll deal with her the only way the monster inside me knows how. But I need to be sure.

If you’d rather we be enemies, that could be fun too.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe having her as an enemy doesn’t have to be such a burden. This game she’s insisting on playing—the looks, the jabs, the cat-and-mouse chase—perhaps I can make it fun for me too. Make it work for me. Just long enough to learn what I need to.

And then?

Then I’ll make her disappear. Izzie Graham will be no more.

Just a name engraved on a tombstone.