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I started hating the floor the first time Bianco smashed my head against the marble. I couldn’t look at the golden china vases when Nate threw one at Rose. His excuse was always the same: ‘He hates it when there’s a fuck up on her stupid, perfect face.’
Is it normal that it took me so long to get it? Was I too young? Too naïve? Too stupid? Maybe I just refused to understand. Nate believes he was doing the right thing, that’s why he never felt bad about beating her up. That’s why he feels so betrayed that she tried to get rid of him. As I said, his priorities were always fucked up.
If he really wanted to save her, he would have left with us or at least helped us leave. But he didn’t, he helped Bianco keep us here for their own selfish benefits and he manages to sleep at night by telling himself he was saving his sister from being raped because he hit her every time we left the house. Fuck knows how Ozy’s face stayed so perfect after the beatings she took.
We cross the gallery and head straight for the dining room. None of the rooms here actually give in to the front of the house. It’s too risky, Bianco’s got too many enemies for that. We have to walk deeper into the gallery to reach the bright dining room decorated in sharp reds, greens, and yellows.
My stomach drops when I see Bianco but as usual, nothing shows. I’m a block of stone. Control over myself is all I have right now.
There’s a feast of breakfast on the table, made of pastries, fruits, and all sorts of eggs and bacon but there are only two people sitting. Bianco at the head, as always, and Ozy on his left. My throat dries up and I have to tighten my fists to stop myself from shaking.
I feel like I’m being thrown back into my childhood. Bianco in his white linen suit, my sister constantly within his reach. Always with her tight high ponytail so he can see the letters he branded on her neck when she was nine years old.
My hatred for him has never been so strong. It was easy to tame it when we were rid of him, when we thought Nate was dead and we wouldn’t be found. It’s impossible now. I hate him with my entire being.
He looks a little older but barely. A few extra wrinkles around his eyes and between his brows. He has some grey hair now, he never had grey hair before. He was young and handsome three years ago. The kind of charm that no one can resist. The kind that hides demons behind a beautiful face.
Rose is looking at her full plate in front of her, an arm splayed on the table and the other with an elbow on the edge and holding her head by the temples. She tries to act like she’s fine, but I can see her whole body tensed up. She looks like she hasn’t slept, still wearing her dress from yesterday, now with a dark grey hoodie. She looks exhausted and I’m praying that it’s only because she was waiting at the station all night for me to get out.
Bianco is beaming as if he’s been hit by the light of a thousand gods. He’s happy, truly happy because he’s been reunited with his obsession. He’s eating his breakfast talking to Ozy and making big gestures with his knife and fork, but she doesn’t acknowledge him. Neither of them has noticed us yet but Nate quickly corrects that.
“Boss, how you doing?” he asks casually as if he is just meeting with an old friend, not with someone fifteen years his elder that groomed him into becoming a gangster.
When Bianco dies, Nate will take over his organization, his precious mafia family, and Sam will be his right-hand man. Where do Rose and I stand in all of this?
Ozy snaps out of wherever she went to escape reality and looks up at us. She was probably listing shit in her head. That’s her thing, she remembers everything. Like the exact ingredients for the box of cereals in front of her. Or the names of every single previous owner of this house. Whatever she hears, sees, or reads she remembers. When she has nothing to focus on, she lists whatever comes to her head. People think it’s a blessing and call her a genius, but it drives her mad because she can’t stop it.
Nate walks over to sit on Bianco’s right. His right-hand man is always on his right and Sam on Nate’s right. Nothing has changed. Absolutely nothing. I should be on Ozy’s left but I can’t bring myself to do it. If I sit next to her, it’ll be like it’s always been, and I won’t let that happen.
“I don’t know, son, it seems you’ve been dying to waste my damn time lately.” Bianco smiles at Nate.
Nate grabs a strip of bacon and pops all of it in his mouth, taking his time to chew. Sam is casually sitting at the table, he doesn’t touch anything, doesn’t move but his eyes are fixed on Ozy.
Nate shrugs as he swallows and lays back in his seat. “Jake and I got in a bit of a disagreement.”
Bianco’s steel grey eyes snap to me and his smile sharpens. That lying smile that he uses to lure everyone in. I slide my hands in my tux pocket, that I’ve been wearing since last night, to hide my tightened fists or he’ll take it as a threat, and I don’t want to start anything.
I just want to grab my sister and leave.
Mateo replies to Nate, but his gaze stays on me. “I thought you’d be busier than that. I did give you a whole town to take over. How’s my old friend Volkov?”
Nate pulls the sleeves of his shirt up and grabs another piece of bacon. There’s blood on his shirt but Bianco doesn’t say anything. He just keeps staring at me. A housemaid walks by me and goes to Nate to pour him a cup of coffee.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he mumbles with a hand on her lower back. She blushes but he doesn’t notice. “Hiding somewhere with his puppies, as usual. I haven’t been to Stoneview much. Ask Sam.”
So that’s why we haven’t seen him much since he turned back alive. He wasn’t in Stoneview.
Bianco’s gaze finally goes back to my brother and he raises an eyebrow. The first step into showing he disapproves. After that, it goes straight to punishment. It’s his only warning. Nate clicks straight away but he doesn’t show any fear, his behavior stays relaxed, and he carries on explaining.
“I have other cities, Mateo, I can’t be in Stoneview all the time.”
Unsatisfied, Bianco puts his cutlery down and lays back in his chair. He crosses his legs, resting an ankle on his knee, and rests his arms on the armrests of his seat.
“Your other cities run themselves. I need all eyes on Stoneview, I need you on Volkov. He’s the last big head of business that hasn’t associated with our new alliance in this area.” And by alliance, he means mafia, motherfucking mafia.
Ozy slightly turns to me and digs her gaze in mine. She wants to leave. She needs to leave.
“Do you know why my other cities run themselves?” Nate insists. “Because I know how to do my job. Let me handle this my way. Sam is doing fine. We’ve taken over all Volkov’s sellers. They’ve sided with us, including the Diaz brothers. Volkov can produce all he wants, he’s got no distributors to bring it to the city. He’s got no link either. We cut all his transportation. All we’ve got left is his sex trafficking, and I need to get in with Stoneview’s politicians for that. So, again, let me handle it.”
