Shattered Dreams (Boys of Bellerose, #3)(48)
I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “Are all mafia families so…”
“Cruel? Power hungry? Misogynistic?” She offered all the words I’d been thinking, and I nodded. “Yep. Pretty much. They’re all run by men who have been raised to believe that no one is superior to them, no one is even equal. Power is everything, and fear is the best motivation. What better way to control your lesbian daughter than to threaten rape?”
Bile burned in my throat. “That’s disgusting. You’re his child.”
Vee shook her head. “No, I’m his failure. I had an older brother, who was my father’s glory. The male heir. When I was only four years old and Matty was twelve, he got shot and killed by a rival gang trying to move in on my father’s business deals.”
I sucked in a gasp, my heart breaking for the world Vee had been raised in.
“Despite my father’s very best efforts—and believe me, he tried—no other boys were born to his line. It was just me. So his only option was to arrange an advantageous marriage that could strengthen the family in another way.” Her smile was warm and not at all resentful like I’d have been. “I definitely hit the mafia marriage lottery with A.”
She had a good point there. “What will you do once this is all over? Will you start a new life with Giana somewhere?”
She tipped her head, considering, then gave a small headshake. “No. The mafia is in my blood. My future is in Siena, for better or worse. I just have to hedge my bets with A and hope he can bring positive changes.”
I hadn’t expected that, but just because it wouldn’t be my choice didn’t mean she was wrong. Just that she was a whole lot braver, and stronger, than she looked.
We settled in for our movies and both fell asleep covered in popcorn. When we woke up late the next morning, I had crushed popcorn embedded into my cheek and moaned about how much it hurt while Vee laughed at me.
She wasn’t going to the concert—too afraid Ricci goons would see her and report back to the Altissimo leader—but she helped me get dressed and ready to go. Part of me just wanted to crawl back into bed and continue our girl-bonding, but I couldn’t miss this concert. It was Angelo’s first appearance as part of Bellerose, and anticipation fluttered through me with every breath.
I refused to miss the concert, but I didn’t need to hang around any longer than necessary. Not while my fractured memories still screamed at me that Grayson had killed my parents, tried to kill me, and did kill my baby in the process. So I skipped sound check and had security deliver me to the venue right as they were running on stage after the opening band.
Rhett spotted me in the wings as he reached his mark and immediately ran back over.
“Uh, aren’t you supposed to be starting?” I spluttered, pointing to where Jace was picking up the mic and asking the screaming crowd “How you doing, Dublin?”
Rhett just smirked and cupped my face between his hands, guitar loose at his back, hanging by the strap. “Hey babe,” he said in a husky voice. “I missed you.”
The way he kissed me almost made me forget where we were, and my body melted against him for a moment. Then the harsh thud of Grayson’s drums jerked us back to reality, and I gave Rhett a push. “Go,” I ordered with a laugh. “Make music, Zep. You’re a rock star, remember?”
He dragged his lip piercing between his teeth, giving me a hungry look, and cupped his dick to rearrange things. “To be continued, Thorn!”
“Definitely,” I agreed, but he was already jogging back across the stage with his guitar in hand.
“Ah, there he is. Rhett Silver, ladies and gentlemen…” Jace drawled the intro into his mic while the crowd hooted and hollered. “Fashionably late, but better late than never, bro.”
Rhett just flashed a toothy grin and extended his middle finger at Jace. Fucking rock stars.
Jace gave Angelo an intro, which saw the screams reach a deafening pitch, then he called for a moment of silence in respect for Flo. More than a few sobs were heard then, and my chest tightened with grief. She’d deserved better than the ending she got. I could still see her murder in my mind clear as day, how effortlessly that knife had slipped across her throat. The blood. So much blood.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I sat on an equipment case to watch the first song Bellerose launched into. It was an old one and one I’d heard them practicing at Grayson’s house earlier in the week, but it sounded all wrong.
“What the fuck?” someone asked from nearby, and I glanced over to see the new tour manager, Hannah, scowling at the stage. She flicked a glance at me, then sighed. “Damn it.”
I frowned. “What?”
“They’re all out of sync. Grayson started quicker than they usually play, and Angelo isn’t keeping up. Rhett and Jace are just confused, trying to smooth it out. They’re a fucking mess, and I can’t say I’m shocked after that flight.” Her pointed look said she was holding me at least partly responsible for the state of Bellerose tonight. She wasn’t angry or accusing, but facts were facts.
Unsure what exactly I could do to help, I just tucked my knees up and tried to enjoy the music. But now that she’d pointed it out, I couldn’t stop hearing their mistakes.
After a few more songs, they seemed to level out and find their groove, and the vibes throughout the venue picked up markedly. But then on “Sweet Destruction” they lost it again. Grayson was a picture of frustration as he belted out the percussion, and Angelo almost seemed to be competing with Rhett for attention. It was cringe-worthy, and I wasn’t the only one who noticed.