Page 51 of Vicious Behaviors (The Next Vicious Generation #3)

Marcello

Big Sal’s mansion is buzzing with life for Mom and Dad’s eleventh wedding anniversary.

Laughter rises above the soft clink of champagne glasses while the low hum of music floats through the chandelier-lit rooms. Capos from near and wide have come to pay homage to my father and his queen, their polished shoes clicking against marble floors as they arrive in sleek black sedans and sweep through the grand entryway.

The men clasp hands in firm greetings, the women air-kiss with painted lips and diamonds glittering beneath the glow of crystal light.

Every laugh, every whispered conversation, feels like part of some symphony where my parents are the conductors.

Mom has been running herself ragged, ensuring everything goes down perfectly for their big day.

She even brought in a nanny, Ms. Rinaldi, to wrangle me, Stella, Anna, and the twins—though ‘wrangle’ might be an understatement with what she has to put up with.

Enzo and Lucky tear around the backyard like wild dogs, while Anna plays in her little patch of garden, following the sparrows with her eyes as if she could will them to land beside her.

Stella and I sit on the porch steps, keeping a vigilant eye on the twins while Ms. Rinaldi is in the bathroom.

Or at least, that’s what I’m doing. Stella’s too busy peering through the windows, cataloging every guest inside.

Her attention is so wrapped up in the sight of so many capos gathered under one roof that she spares little thought for our siblings, as if it’s a parade to which she refuses to miss a second.

Stella’s focus shifts from the party back onto the garden only when we hear Annamaria’s soft sobs.

“Stella,” Anna weeps, hurrying toward us.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I threw my teddy bear for the birds to play with, and now it’s stuck in the tree.” Her lip trembles, my gaze immediately stirring to the offending toy dangling from a high branch.

“Don’t cry, angel. I’ll get it down for you,” I tell her, already stepping forward.

“Don’t even think about it,” Stella warns sharply. “With Jude gone, Dad might ask you to mingle with the guests. You can’t get yourself dirty.”

“And you can?” I arch a brow.

“I’m a girl. They don’t care about me.” She frowns.

“Stella, hurry! Teddy’s all alone!” Anna’s voice wavers again.

“Come here, angel,” I say, scooping Anna into my arms as Stella and I walk toward the tree.

“I’ll get it for you in no time. Don’t cry, okay?

” Stella coos, pressing a kiss onto our baby sister’s cheek, while sizing up the climb.

“Mom’s going to kill me for this,” she mutters under her breath while taking off her Mary Janes and then wrapping her long, ruby-red hair into a messy bun before tackling the tree trunk.

It’s only when she grabs a low-hanging branch to haul herself up that the twins spot what she’s doing and come over to us.

“What the hell are you doing up there, Stella? You’re gonna snap your neck if you fall,” Lucky calls.

“Who says I’m going to fall, cazzo?” She grins, hauling herself up higher. But just as she lifts her leg to balance on the branch, the skirt of her pale pink dress snags on the bark, leaving a large, ugly tear.

“Mammà’s going to be pissed when she sees that,” Enzo mutters, worried.

“So I’ll change,” Stella replies, still climbing.

We watch her on bated breath until she’s close enough to flick the bear loose. Enzo catches it before it hits the ground, handing it to a now-calmed Anna while I wipe her tear-stricken cheeks.

As Stella starts climbing down, her foot slips, entirely missing the branch she previously stepped onto and hitting the grass with a thud.

“Stella!” I shout, rushing over as Anna clings to my neck for support

“Well, that’s going to leave a mark,” Stella laughs, her dress now more brown than pink.

“What is going on out here?!” Ms. Rinaldi’s voice cuts through the air like a blade as she barrels toward us.

I open my mouth to explain, but the words freeze when she yanks Stella up by the arm, none too gently.

“Look at you?! You look like a pig! Are you a pig, girl? Are you a filthy pig?!”

“Hey! Don’t talk to my sister like that!” Lucky shouts just as Enzo flees the scene.

“I can talk to her any way I want. I’m in charge here,” Ms. Rinaldi seethes, eyes narrowing as she turns her attention back to Stella.

Anna presses herself into my neck, trembling, afraid the woman will turn her wrath on her too.

“What will your mother say? You did this on purpose to make me look bad!” Ms. Rinaldi snaps.

“I did not!” Stella says, too stunned to do more than shake her head.

“Oh yes, you did. I’ve heard stories about you… you ungodly child. This whole week, you’ve been nothing but a nightmare to me. But it ends today. You will not embarrass me in front of your parents. I will not have it.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Stella says, spine straight, jaw set.

“Don’t you dare talk back to me, child!”

“Or what?” Stella provokes.

“Spoiled brat!” Ms. Rinaldi swings her hand and slaps Stella across the face before we know what’s happening.

The sharp crack of the slap freezes me in place, causing my stomach to twist. This woman was hired to protect us, to keep us safe, yet she just hit my sister.

Our parents never hit us. Not once. The very idea of a hand raised in anger was unthinkable in our house.

And now, faced with it, I can’t even breathe.

I just stand there, wide-eyed, too stunned to move, as if the world had tilted and I no longer knew the rules.

“You hit me?” Stella says, more surprised than anything else.

“And it was long overdue, you insolent child. Now get to your room and change before your mother sees you like this.”

However, Stella doesn’t move. Instead, she takes a step closer. “You hit me,” she says again, her gaze burning into the nanny.

“And I’ll do it again if you don’t move.”

Stella doesn’t flinch. Her hand rises, and she slaps Ms. Rinaldi square on her cheek, hard. Lucky chuckles nervously, while Anna and I freeze, our anxiety spiking.

“You will never lay another hand on me. If you do, I’ll kill you in your sleep,” Stella hisses softly, her emerald glare filled with venom.

Ms. Rinaldi’s eyes widen at the threat. Instead of backing down, she lunges at my sister, grabbing Stella by the shoulders and slapping her repeatedly, until Stella collapses onto the grass. Lucky rushes to intervene, but is shoved aside while a hard kick lands in Stella’s stomach.

I can’t move. Fear pins me to the spot. The world narrows to Stella’s gasping form and Ms. Rinaldi’s raised hand, while Anna cries into my chest.

Behind us, my parents’ party continues. The laughter, the music, the clinking of glasses, a horrid contrast to the violence happening just a few feet away from their midst.

Tears stream down my cheeks as Anna pleads, “Make the bad lady stop, Mar! Make her stop! Please! Stella!”

Still, I don’t move. My whole body is in a catatonic state, watching Ms. Rinaldi pull at my sister’s hair just to kick her in the stomach again.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” I hear my mother’s voice cut through the air like lightning.

Ms. Rinaldi freezes mid-kick, caught between rage and fear.

“I… I… “she stammers, fumbling for words.

My mother rushes to Stella’s side, with Enzo right behind her, making me realize that he fled to get our mother to help.

“Piccolina, are you alright?” our mother asks with concern while brushing a messy lock of hair away from Stella’s face. And when my sister looks up to nod that she’s okay, instead of sadness or hurt, all I see in Stella’s eyes is fury.

Once she’s satisfied Stella is fine, or as much as she can be after what just happened, my mother rises, storming toward the nanny. A thunderous slap lands across the woman’s cheek, my mother’s wedding ring slicing Ms. Rinaldi’s skin and causing blood to ooze from the cut.

“You will never touch my child, or any child, for that matter, ever again,” my mother warns, nostrils flaring. “Get out of my house.”

“Mrs. Romano… please… let me explain.”

But my mother won’t have it. “Oh, you will have much to explain to me and my husband, I can guarantee you that. Run. Hide. Do what you will. But hear me when I say that tonight will be your last on this earth. That I promise you.”

The nanny’s eyes widen in horror at the furious threat.

Having worked for other families in the Outfit, Ms. Rinaldi knows exactly who she’s working for.

This means my mother’s threat isn’t an empty, throwaway remark.

She knows who my father is and what he’ll do to her when he finds out what she did to Stella. People have been killed for less.

Without a second to spare, Ms. Rinaldi bolts from the garden like a bat out of hell. It’s only when the wretched woman is gone that my mother helps Stella to her feet.

“Come, Piccolina. Let me take you up to your room so you can rest.”

But just as they pass Anna and me, Stella stops, turning toward me, hurt and betrayal etched on her face.

“You just stood there and watched her. You didn’t move.

Didn’t even so much as curse at her. You just watched.

You didn’t do anything to protect me.” I open my mouth to explain, but no words come.

“Coward,” she mutters, turning her eyes away from mine, as if looking at me sickened her.

Confused, my mother guides her back inside, her full attention now on Stella instead of the guests.

The rest of the day is a blur. Guilt and shame make the hours slip past until I find myself hiding in a corner of my bedroom, my chest tight, my hands trembling. I feel like I’ve failed everyone. My parents. My siblings. Especially Stella and Jude.

Why didn’t I do something? Why did I let her touch Stella like that?

Jude would be ashamed of me. My father will be ashamed of me. I was supposed to protect my brothers and sisters, and instead, I just stood there, watching.