Vicious Minds (Children of Vice #4)(4)

“Wow,” he whispered like a child. He’d get along well with Giovanna, I could see it already. “Her mother…who is she?”

Sighing, I got on the elevator and he followed. “Good question.”

“How do you not know? You’re different from me—”

“Thank God,” I muttered.

“Meaning,” he went on, speaking much louder despite the fact that were right next to each other. “That you don’t just sleep around with women. You’re careful. You’ve always needed to know everything about them before they can even get in front of you, let alone in your bed. For years you have lectured me half to sleep with making sure I don’t get trapped or caught up by a woman. You were worse than Dad! Who’s her family? What does she do? What did she study? Have you made it clear she’s nothing but a toy? You had one of my girlfriends killed for mouthing off about our family! And you don’t know who the hell the mother of your fucking daughter is!”

Breathe, Ethan. He’s right. He does not have tact. But he is right.

When the doors opened, I stepped out and paused, waiting for him to step out beside me. When he did, I faced him.

“Wyatt, over the last few weeks you must have realized this, but I will say it so we don’t have to have this conversation every time something happens…I. Am. Not. God. I do not know everything. I cannot stop everything and I, yes, I, even make mistakes. 99.9% of the time, you’re right, I am vigilant about the women around me and I often lecture you, as you call it, because I’m your older brother. I look after you. I try to make sure you don’t fall, and in the process sometimes I do, and it makes me look like a hypocrite, I understand that. But that doesn’t mean what I did to and for you was wrong. If I could go back, I’d give you all the same lectures and this time much more severely. I’d never want you to wake one day and realize you have a child who you have failed. But if you would like to make jokes or laugh or call me a hypocrite I’ll give you this moment to do so.”

He cracked his jaw to the side and looked annoyed. Shaking his head, he said, “I hate it when you take the high road, you know that?”

If only he knew I never really took the high road at all.

“Now that this is settled, go rest—”

“Don’t start acting like my father now,” he said. “I’m not resting for shit, I feel like if I blink, I’m going to miss another grand revelation.”

Yes, my fist in your face.

“Fine, do whatever you please.” I waved him off, walking to the dining room where a bruised-and-battered Greyson and…

“You. I didn’t hire you.” I pointed at the blond-haired, lanky boy-man standing on the opposite side of Greyson, whose large form loomed in front of the door.

“Oh right,” Wyatt spoke up behind me. “Ethan, this is—”

“Mannix Ward…aka Monk.” I said his name and even he seemed surprised. Looking to my brother I said, “Didn’t ask for introduction. I know my people. I said I did not hire him, so why is he standing as a guard in my house? Well?” I asked, looking to the stick man.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Wyatt spoke up instead.

“I hired him,” he stated, looking over to Greyson. “As you can see from Greyson’s face, we had a little falling out. Is there a problem?”

Was there a problem? Yes. Me. I had forgotten I’d left him on his own while I’d…spent time “resting.” And since he’d been away for a few years he didn’t know my system for promoting guards. Monk was new. He hadn’t done any work on the streets. He hadn’t proven his loyalty yet. Fine. I can work with this.

Greyson straightened under my scrutiny.

“Make sure he knows the rules or else we’ll have a falling out and if that happens, be assured you’ll never come back to work,” I said to him.

“Yes, sir.” He nodded, moving to open the door.

“Everyone out,” I said once I was inside the dining room where both my uncles were sitting across from Fiorello, who seemed to be really enjoying his cup of coffee. “Mr. Orsini and I will be speaking privately.”

Once they left, he looked to me and grinned. “So you’re the bastard that knocked up my granddaughter.”

“I know who my father is thank you,” I said as I walked to my seat at the head of the table. “Just like I know you aren’t the one who killed Ivy.”

Because I killed Ivy.





Chapter 1





“Now this is not the end

It is not even the beginning of the end.

But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.”





~Winston Churchill





CALLIOPE - AGE 7

Chicago, Illinois

July 28th





Everything sparkled.

It was like the movies.

“Your coat, Miss?” the butler asked me with a smile. I took it off, giving it to him. “Thank you, Miss.”

Another butler, who was tall and stood proudly but didn’t smile looked us all over. “I’m Mr. O’Phelan, please follow me.”

I walked on the left of my sisters, they were arguing about something stupid again. I wanted to tell them to shut up, but Daddy told me not act up or else I wouldn’t ever be allowed to come to a party again. The hallway we walked down was made of all marble, the floors were so shiny I could see my face in them. But I really liked all the art on the walls. It was like a museum.