Nico (Ruin & Revenge #1)(14)

Mia’s hand froze in place. “He didn’t—”

“No.” Kat let her go. “He doesn’t hurt me like he does you.”

Mia let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and sat on Kat’s fluffy pink duvet. She had protected Kat when she lived at home, taking the blame when Kat did something wrong, intervening when she thought their father might lose his temper. When she’d finally had enough and walked out the door, she begged Kat to come with her, but Kat assured her Papa wouldn’t touch her, even with Mia gone, and she’d been right.

Kat sat down beside her and leaned against Mia’s shoulder, threading their fingers together. Mia squeezed Kat’s hand. It had taken her a long time to get used to Kat’s physically affectionate nature. Their mother rarely hugged them, and the only touches she’d had from her father involved pain.

“Tell me all about school.”

Kat filled her in on her classes, her friends, and her after-school activities. She showed Mia some of the paintings she’d done in art class and Mia flipped through Kat’s portfolio, amazed at her sister’s talent.

“These are good, Kat. Really good. Have you thought about going to art school?”

“I can’t afford it on my own, and I’m afraid to ask,” she said quietly. “After what you went through…”

Mia pressed her lips tight together. She’d applied for the computer-science program at UCLA without discussing it with her parents. When she received the acceptance form, she announced she was leaving home and suffered the worst beating she’d had since the night in the restaurant. But even bruises and a broken arm hadn’t deterred her. As soon as she was able to stand, she’d packed her bag and walked out the door. She’d paid her way with scholarships, loans and by working two jobs while going to school. For the first few months, she lived in dreaded anticipation of seeing the family enforcers come to drag her home. But her father left her alone except to demand her presence once a month for a family dinner. They never spoke about it, and only Kat showed up at her graduation.

“He won’t do that to you,” Mia said. “You’re special, Kat. He doesn’t hate you like he hates me. And if you do want to move out and go to school, you can always stay with me.”

“I couldn’t leave Mama alone with him. He’s nicer to her when I’m around, and I think she’d get very lonely.”

Mia felt a twinge of guilt that she’d never had the kind of relationship with her mother that Kat did. Although her mother had always been there for her in every way but defending her against the constant abuse, they had never been close. Mia had just chalked it up to the fact they had very different personalities. Mia had never enjoyed shopping or getting her hair or nails done. She didn’t care about entertaining, fashion shows, what movie stars were doing, or what celebrities were wearing. And her mother had no interest in computers, the Internet, gender politics, or feminist punk rock.

They talked until Mia’s mother came to tell her Dante had arrived and she was needed in her father’s study. Mia gave Kat a kiss on the cheek and went down the ostentatious stairway and along the marble hallway decorated with gilt-edged tables, replica Grecian statues and huge vases of flowers, to the back of the house. Alfio fell into step beside her, his footsteps surprisingly quiet for a man so large. He had been her father’s top enforcer for as long as she could remember and never once had she seen him smile.

Mia knocked on the door to her father’s study. After a few brief moments, her father called for her to enter. Taking a deep breath, Mia walked into the room that had seen the worse of her punishments and borne the brunt of her fears. Dark and gloomy, paneled in rich, dark wood and hung with thick green curtains, her father’s study reminded her of something out of the Victorian era. He sat behind a massive desk in a throne like chair, that he’d had shipped over from his grandfather’s house in Italy, along with most of the office furnishings. His consigliere, known as the Wolf for his peculiarly angled face, long nose, lean body and thick mop of gray hair, stood by his side along with Dante’s massive muscle-head of a bodyguard, Rev, who had been with the family almost ten years.

“Papà.” Mia bent her head in respect, not wanting to start out the meeting with a punch or a slap that would mean she would be more focused on the pain than on the real reason she had been summoned to the house. She spotted Dante standing by the window, and greeted him with a smile. “Hi Dante.”

Tall and slim, with a long, thin face and chiseled cheekbones, Dante carried the heavy burden of being heir to the family. Although he had not inherited their father’s vicious temper, or his ruthless streak, Dante never hesitated to do their father’s bidding, and never challenged him, even when Mia was forced to bear the brunt of their father’s rage. As a child, he had been a fun, teasing big brother, but he had changed when their father forced him into the life at the age of nine, sending him on errands for him and his men. After that, he had become detached and distant, and she still missed the Dante she used to know.

Dante gave her a curt nod, and Mia’s smile faded. “What’s wrong?”

“Madre di Cristo!” Her father snarled before Dante could answer. “You look like you’re dressed up for Halloween.” He took a deep breath and bellowed. “Gina! Get in here!”

Mia’s mother, who no doubt had been waiting by the door in case she was summoned, rushed inside, her face pale and drawn. “Is something wrong?”