Page 102 of Brutal Revenge

“I’d like to see you try.”

We’re a breath away from swinging at each other, but Nico and Elio move faster than our fists. Nico plants a hand on my chest, shoving me back a step, while Elio grabs Giovanni’s arm.

“Enough!” Nico shouts, his head bobbing like a spectator at a tennis match. “What the fuck? This isn’t us.” He grips my shirt firm enough to pop several threads. “This isn’t you.”

He stares at me as if he doesn’t know me. I’m not surprised. I don’t recognize myself. I respect my brothers. I love them. They’re not whom I’m angry at, but I’m too drug-fucked and hurt to remember that right now.

Nico pushes me back with more strength than I knew he had. “Go spend time with some ladies instead of coke. You’re fucking unbearable when you’re usingandnot getting any.”

The room falls silent. Not just because they had no idea I was using again, but because I didn’t even face a day of abstinence when I had my appendix removed. The nurses were hot, and I was horny. Sue me.

But now, his comment stirs something ugly inside me. I’ve tried to move on, but I have no interest in anyone else. None. Zero. I was so uninterested last night that before the woman at the private event could get her sloppy mouth near my lips, I threatened her. She still lunged, but her lips landed on the side of my mouth instead of smack-dab in the middle.

I thought I had rubbed off the evidence of her near kiss until I stormed out of Giovanni’s office and caught my reflection in the mirror. The lipstick smear was as obvious as the anger searing my face.

I assumed it was why Azra said she wanted to marry Antonio, but then she went through with the purity test and climbed into the SUV. When she sat there for an hour, I thought maybe she had changed her mind, that she had chosen me.

She hadn’t. She walked straight into Antonio’s arms, and I got lost to drugs for the second time in under twenty-four hours.

I’d still be there now if they hadn’t called this meeting.

Dante clears his throat and then looks me in the eye. “You’re not needed for this part. We’ll call you if we need you to obstruct a foster care placement.”

Translation:You’re useless right now. Go deal with your mess.

“Fine,” I mutter, pushing back from the table. “I’m out.”

A few hours later, Nico finds me in the cold, stonewalled room where we’re meant to interrogate people, not where I’m meant to sleep. I’ve not slept in my room since my fight with Azra. I’ve camped on the couch in my man cave. And despite what Azra most likely believes, I’ve done it alone.

Sitting on the floor with my back against the wall, I stare at nothing but feel everything.

Nico doesn’t ask if I want to go out. He just says, “Come on.”

“I’m too far gone.” I drag a shaky hand over my head. You’d think the shame they hit me with when Nico admitted I was using again would have stopped me from hitting the drugs.

It did the opposite.

Nico grabs my coat off the hook and throws it at me. “You’ll probably want to be even more gone for this. Let’s go.”

“I’m not?—”

“It wasn’t a question,” he snaps. “Move.”

He hauls me out of the dungeon like I’m a sulking teenager, and I’m too exhausted to fight him.

We end up at the nightclub I took Azra to. The music is loud, and the flashing lights are annoying. I’m eager to drown my sorrows, but I’d rather do it anywhere but here.

As I stumble into a booth more than I slide into it, a waitress comes over to take our drink order. She flashes me a flirty grin, and I’m shocked to realize my cock is mildly interested. It’s not hard, but there’s an occasional twitch when she rakes her teeth over her lower lip.

The fuck?

I must have snorted too much cocaine. Her lips are fat enough to announce she’d give fantastic head, but I’m not interested. So much so that when I notice her phone number scribbled on a napkin as she returns to serve our drinks, I leave it on the tray.

She scoffs, shocked, then dartsaway.

I throw back half my drink and almost choke when Nico says, “Antonio moved the wedding forward.”

My head snaps toward him as my molars grind. “What?”