Page 58 of Vicious Behaviors (The Next Vicious Generation #3)

“I must admit that wasn’t always the case,” Izzie says with a playful grin, looking up at me. “There was a time Marcello didn’t particularly care for me very much. I don’t want to throw the word hate around, but I definitely didn’t make the best impression on him at first.”

If only she knew how close I came to killing her back then. And how badly I wish she wouldn’t remind me.

“Oh, I doubt that. Though sometimes it does take men a minute to recognize what they truly feel for a woman. Isn’t that right, dear?” My mother nudges my father playfully.

“There was never a question you were the woman for me, Tesoro. ” My father lifts her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles. She melts at his words, while Izzie watches in quiet awe at their loving dynamic.

My parents have been in love longer than I’ve been alive, and still, they never miss a chance to show it.

Watching them now, is it any wonder the rumors about my mother also being in a secret relationship with Gio and Dom never stuck?

How could they, when she and Vincent are forever besotted with each other in plain sight?

Little do they know that my mom’s heart beats for all three men.

And all three would die for her without question or hesitation.

“I don’t want to be a terrible host,” my father continues, pulling my attention to him, “but may I steal Marcello for a moment? I’d like to run something by him.”

“Of course,” Izzie says, reluctantly slipping her hand from my arm.

“I won’t be long,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head before following my father toward a quiet corner of the room.

“I’m rarely surprised,” he begins, eyes sweeping the black-tie crowd.

“But you bringing your nonno’s new training instructor to your sister’s birthday party…

Well, color me surprised. The only time Miss Graham was mentioned under this very roof, if I recall, you weren’t particularly keen on her working for your grandfather.

And yet here she is, on your arm. A bold move, inviting a normal to an affair like this. ”

“No bolder than inviting the governor. Or the district attorney. Or is… that the state senator over there I see?” I counter, eyeing Senator Davis in the cheerful crowd.

“Fair point.” His smile is faint but genuine. “Still, bringing a woman we’ve never met into our home suggests you two are far from casual. You forget that I’m your father. I know you, son. You wouldn’t introduce Miss Graham to your mother unless this relationship carried real weight. Am I wrong?”

“Her name is Izzie,” I remind him. “And no, you’re not wrong.”

“How serious are we talking about?” He turns away from the guests, his gaze settling on our figures in the tall glass doors, the night beyond too black to show anything but our own reflections.

I spin around and stare at his reflection. “Serious.”

“I see.” His gaze never wavers from mine. “And does she know about your… condition? ”

“In a sense.”

“In a sense?” he parrots. “I’m going to need more than that, son.”

“All you need to know is that I have it under control.”

Even though my father’s penetrating gaze is directed at my reflection, I can still feel the weight of his scrutiny.

I know what he’s really asking. He wants to know if Izzie is safe with me.

If I won’t wake up one morning to find her dead body lying by my side, and my hands covered in her blood.

The monster in me would love nothing more than for that to materialize, but I’ll never allow it to have its way with Izzie.

So far, I’ve been able to satisfy his bloodlust by breaking bones and spirits in the ring. And at night, when I close my eyes and hold Izzie in my arms, he comes to me in the form of nightmares to feast on my soul. It’s a small bargain to keep Izzie safe.

“Very well. I won’t probe on the matter further,” he finally relents. “However, if this woman is to be part of your life, she must still be vetted. Have you done a background check?”

“Already handled. Enzo did a deep dive on her. Besides, you did one on her too before you let Nonno hire her, or has that slipped your mind?”

“That was before she started dating my son.” He presses his lips together. “I prefer to be on the side of caution.”

“She’s clean,” I lie without flinching.

“So, you keep saying. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to get someone else to double-check, now would it?”

Instead of answering, I meet his stare head-on this time. “Is this going to be a problem, Father?”

The arctic chill in my voice earns me the faintest flicker of surprise in his eyes. I’ve never spoken to my father in such a harsh, insubordinate tone. However, as I brace for him to put me in my place, I’m taken aback by how his lips begin to curve upwards.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, as my frown deepens.

“What? Why are you smiling all of a sudden? I don’t understand.”

“For Izzie’s sake, I hope that’s not true.” His hand gently settles on my shoulder. “Or is your sweet mother right? Are you still blind to your feelings for this woman?”

“No.” My jaw tightens. “I’m not.”

His smile softens. “Have you told her? Women usually like to know when a man has fallen in love with them.” I shake my head, my nerves starting to prickle at the base of my spine.

“Ah.” His smile dips. “Though it saddens me to say, perhaps that’s wise.

This life… it isn’t for everyone. Make sure she’s ready to stand at your side before burdening her with your love.

” His gaze drifts across the room, landing on my mother with something almost wistful.

“I got lucky. But not every relationship survives what the Outfit demands of it.” Then his eyes cut back to me.

“Does she know what your future will look like?”

“We haven’t discussed it yet.”

Not a lie. We’ve avoided every conversation about the world outside of us, and for good reason. Explaining that to my father, though, would be the same as asking him to put a bullet in Izzie’s head. And like hell, I’ll ever let that happen.

“Then maybe you should,” he says at last. “If you trust her as much as you claim, put the cards on the table. Let her decide.”

I nod, though that thought terrifies me more than admitting to my father that my girlfriend is the same FBI agent he once ordered me to kill.

“What… what if she doesn’t choose me?” The words slip out before I can stop them, my real fear finally breaking through. “What if it’s all too much? What if I’m too much?”

“Then she doesn’t deserve you,” he says, his stone-cold reply edged with a dangerous, protective glint in his eyes.

For one fleeting moment, I almost let myself believe he cares.

That he loves me, the way a father is supposed to love a son.

“Come,” he announces after regaining composure.

“Let me get better acquainted with your Isobel.” But just as we’re about to head back, my father places a hand on my chest and stops me mid-step.

“Just one more thing,” he interjects, planting a fake smile for the guests looking our way.

“Have you dealt with that little pesky problem of ours? I’m referring to the undercover special agent sent to take you in? ”

My blood immediately runs cold. Fuck.

“Yes,” I breathe out, the lie like poison on the tip of my tongue.

“Permanently?” he insists. My jaw clenches as I offer him a nod in return. “Good. Good.” He smiles. “Then let’s save your girlfriend before your mother starts talking wedding dates.”

That’s all the encouragement I need to quicken my steps.

Not only do I want to run away from this topic of discussion, but I also want to be near Izzie.

She has enough to deal with being tied to me, so the last thing she needs is my mother piling on talk of marriage and babies.

Though the thought isn’t as repulsive as I once imagined.

The image of Izzie walking toward me in a white gown down the aisle slips into my mind and, before I know it, I’ve got myself a new private obsession.

And the vision of her carrying my child…

fuck. That’s a dream I don’t even let myself entertain.

Thankfully, when we rejoin them, Frankie and Lucky are also with my mother and Izzie, serving as a perfect buffer against any baby talk.

“What did I miss?” I ask as casually as possible, slipping a protective arm around Izzie’s waist.

“Nothing much,” she answers with a bright smile, completely in her element. “Your mom was just telling me what a shy kid you used to be growing up. More so than Annamaria.”

“If shy is code for emo, then sure, that’s what he was,” Lucky snorts.

“Speaking of Anna, where is she? I’ve got tickets for Taylor Swift’s concert burning a hole in my pocket,” I say, steering the conversation away from my awkward childhood and the reason behind why I mainly stuck to myself.

“Oh, I saw her a few minutes ago. She just went to the bathroom to freshen up. She’ll come down any second,” Izzie explains a little too quickly, a lie embedded in her autumn eyes.

She’s fitting in with my family so well, I don’t have the heart to call her out on it. I’ll ask her later why she’s covering for Anna and why she keeps looking over my shoulder outside.

“You got her Taylor Swift tickets?!” Frankie squeals, practically bouncing. “Let me see!”

“Oh, Marcello did more than that. He got tickets and backstage passes for all of us girls.” Izzie laughs as she digs into her clutch to show them to Frankie. Lucky drifts closer to me while the others ooh and ahh over the tickets.

“I thought we didn’t like her,” he mutters under his breath while eyeing my woman.

“And what made you think that?” I snap quietly.

“Enzo. He told me to stay clear of her. Said that she was bad news. And now here she is, meeting Mom and Dad, no less. Did I miss something?” he asks with genuine confusion.

Leave it to Enzo to poison his twin against the woman I love with little to no info.

Fuck my life.

“And where is Enzo?” I ask darkly, needing to find him before he runs to our father to claim he doesn’t trust Izzie, mere minutes after I told the old man she was as clean as a whistle.

“Where do you think?” Lucky rolls his eyes.

“Unlike you, Enzo can’t exactly bring his problematic date to Anna’s party.

Alejandro’s Roman collar would steal the spotlight from her for sure,” Lucky explains as if I should’ve known that already.

“Don’t worry. He’s bound to make an appearance, even if only to help Anna blow out her candles. ”

Good. If Enzo’s mind is busy with Alejandro, maybe he won’t run off to our father about Izzie. Unless, of course, our father goes to him requesting another background check on her.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

All I wanted was to introduce my girl to my mother. How did this whole night get so fucked?

When the waiter passes by us, I grab two champagne flutes and down them both in one go, grabbing another to keep on hand. Everyone stares at me as if I’d grown another head.

“What?” I wipe my mouth with my sleeve.

“You don’t usually drink,” Izzie says, concern stitched across her lips.

“I think the excitement of the night is getting to our boy,” my father smirks, sliding an arm around my mother’s waist.

“Not at all. I’m just celebrating,” I counter, doing my best to mask the fact that the alcohol is already rushing to my head.

“Of course you are.” My mother winks before strutting to stand beside me. “Like I said, I know all my children’s tells.” But then her teasing grin falls from her lips, staring into the crowd. “All of my children.”

I shift sideways to see who she is looking at, only to find Stella laughing away at something Jude or Mina just said to her.

“Everything alright, Mammà? ”

“Yes. Yes. Everything is fine,” she quickly says, forcing a smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t worry about me,” my mother says. “I’d rather you focus on your date and show her a good time—though God knows it will be a hard thing to accomplish in this stiff, uppity crowd.” Then she leans into my ear and whispers, “Izzie is lovely, Marcello. She’s perfect for you.”

“Yeah?” Heat creeps into my face.

Fucking champagne. And this is why I don’t drink.

“I mean it.” Her smile softens, sincerity breaking through. “Now go. Drink. Dance. Show Izzie how we Romanos have fun.”

I don’t need to be told twice. After a quick kiss on my mother’s cheek, I take Izzie’s hand, threading my fingers through hers, and pull her away from the group.

“What are you doing?” She giggles as we speed away from the crowd.

“My mother said I should show you a good time tonight.”

“Okay… and?” She laughs, not fully grasping where I’m going with this.

“I know only one way to guarantee that,” I say, rushing down the hall and opening the door leading to the piano room. I urge Izzie inside and lock the door behind us.

“What are you up to?” She continues to giggle, walking backwards as I prowl forward. Before she has time to get far, I grab her waist and plant her on top of the piano. “Are you going to play me something?” she says, eyes heady, finally on the same page as me.

“If you want me to,” I mutter, my hands already on her thighs, the fucking backless dress on her making me salivate at the mouth. “But I’ll leave that for the good boyfriend to do.”

“Is that so?” She mauls at her lip, just as she places her six-inch heel on my chest. “And what is the bad boyfriend about to do with me?”

“Anything you fucking want, bella. ”

And with that, I pretend to take the pin we put in place when we first arrived off the imaginary board.

Showtime.