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With lightning speed, and with animalistic agility, Zane is in front of me once more, our bodies thrust so firmly together I only know to allow his lips to crash upon mine. As arms engulf me, keeping me flush against him, my hands come up to his head, helping to deepen the kiss.

This is all too criminal. The way he caresses my body as his lips string a story upon mine should never be allowed. It should be a felony that I should fall back into my old ways when he’s even a few feet away, but to allow him to this point... it’s illegal.

Before, any man I kissed, I could toss my feelings aside, keep objectivity alive, and survive the thrill of the kill. But with Zane, I become unbidden as if a bittersweet poison courses my veins and I crave it. I want red-hot fury to pulsate through my body and keep reminding me that this is the fate at its absolute strongest.

As I feel myself falling, my hands rise up across his chest until I have the perfect opportunity to push him away. With a look of agitation, Zane watches as my left hand comes up to his lips
and he questions my motives.

“I’m not allowing you to have the power,” I tell him; I can feel my eyes light up as a rush of seduction enamours me. I steal another kiss, my lips lingering on his, dragging themselves as I pull away. “Stand here,” I tell him, forcing him to stand in the middle of the room.

I drop away from his body, the heat freezing instantaneously. I go over to my closet, open the door, and pull a scarf out. I don’t want too much time to pass, so I advance on Zane, bite my lip with anticipation as I fold the scarf in half, and lift my arms up behind him. I pull the scarf down, covering Zane’s eyes; he jumps immediately and raises his hands and sniggers.

“I knew you wanted power, but I didn’t realize that would render me vulnerable,” he muses, twisting his head as if to look at me blindly.

“This is just phase one,” I tease, tying the last knot. My hands fall onto his shoulders, I go on my tiptoes and rest my lips right beside his ear before whispering to him. “There’s one more thing,” I continue to command him. “But I want this all gone before I get what I want,” I say, tugging on his boxers. Zane listens and I watch as he slips them down his toned, tanned body and tosses them across the room. “Good, now get down on your knees and put your hands behind your back.”

“Amelia,” Zane breathes, an ounce of trepidation washes into his tone.

I use a little force on his shoulders, and kiss the back of his neck as he begins to lower himself slowly. “Do as I say and it’ll all be over and you can get some form of revenge.”

As he continues to drop to his knees, I rush to my bed and pull the belt from my robe. The silk band falls between my fingers and I walk back to Zane, crouching behind him. His hands sit behind him, keenness now shakes from him and as I loop the silk tie around his wrists, dancing and weaving the material to entrap him.

“Right,” I whisper, standing up to move in front of him. “Can you see?” I ask, and he shakes his head. “Good, can you move?” Again, he shakes his head. “Even better.”

“Amelia,” he pants in dry anticipation as he struggles with his bindings a little.

I say nothing, just back out of the room, grabbing his shirt as I do so and leave him bound and helpless. I might go back to him before the hour’s up, but with the way I’m feeling, I’ll let him sweat a little.

“Amelia!” he cries out, obviously feeling my neglect.

I don’t go anywhere far; I simply slip down the wall and sit by my open door, making sure I have a direct view of Zane helpless in the middle of my empty bedroom. I watch him tug and fight and try in every way possible to get free. I know I’m cruel and this is punishment I would hate to have bestowed upon me, but he made me feel how every other guy does - like I’m an object.

I allow ten minutes or so to pass before I decide I’m going to indulge myself while I allow Zane to sit and panic. I pull myself up, and button the shirt all the way as I head for the stairs. I take note of how quiet the house is as I descend each step, which makes me happy that my brothers are all occupied and won’t ask questions. When I make it to the kitchen, I see them all sitting in the garden just like when I came home. I ignore them to go to the freezer and pull out a large tub of chocolate ice cream. The first scoop melts on my tongue and I groan in pleasure. The second and third follow in quick pursuit and I fall into one of the barstools. However, when I hear laughter, I drop the spoon and run up the stairs. Shit. I know that laugh, it’s Carlo; I didn’t know he was inside, but he is! And I all but run into him when I make it to my bedroom. He’s standing chortling in hysterics at Zane while Zane cries out for help.

“Fuck,” I swear as I rush into motion.

The moment my hands touch Zane’s, his struggle stops and I can feel the heat radiate from him as he kneels vulnerable, humiliated and, quite possibly, enraged.

“Where the fuck did you go?” he asks me, his tone becoming fraught. “And why is your brother now here?!”

“I told you I like power,” I say, pulling me back, stalling my release of him. I lean my head over his shoulder, making sure he feels the intimacy I’m forcing on him. “You ever use me as a means to fit in and this, what I did, will be something you beg for, got it?”

“Don’t sound so menacing, sweetheart, it’s not you,” he snarls as I struggle to undo my own handiwork. “This isn’t you getting even.”

“I didn’t know Carlo would walk in!” I declare and shot a death look at my brother who’s crying and unable to do anything but stare. He catches my glare and finally leaves us. “I just wanted to make you sweat a little!”

“Hey, Enzo! You’ve gotta see this,” Carlo yells out, walking down the corridor. “There is some kinky shit going on up here.”

“You are so dead, Amelia!” Zane bellows as I finally free him and he quickly reaches up to tear the scarf from his eyes and cover up his modesty.

I start to laugh as I stand back up. “That’s the push and pull of us, Zane. Death threats, breakups, make ups, expensive liquor, intense sex,” I say, pausing to grin at him wickedly, “
Power
.”

All I do is swing the belt of my robe around and strut away. When I hear him groan, I know payback’s definitely been served.

“Are you going to be in a mood with me forever?” I ask, talking directly to Zane’s back.

He doesn’t move much. If anything, he merely bristles on his seat. I’ve garnered the same reaction from him for days. I know I deserve it, but at the time, I didn’t think I did. He pissed me off and I got payback. How was I to know that Carlo would walk in?

“C’mon, Zane,” I try to coerce him into idle chitchat, but he doesn’t budge. This makes me walk around the kitchen counter, working my way to the front of him as he sits waiting for the others. “I’ve said I’m sorry.”

“You left me in the middle of your room stark fucking naked, Amelia!” he bellows at me, his words a ferocious roar to me. “And to top it off, your brothers haven’t let me live it down for the better part of three days! So, I’m
sorry
if your apology isn’t helping to improve my mood.”

“Look, you used me to make yourself look like one of the guys. I don’t appreciate that and you should have known that. Christ, Zane, you should have known above everyone else, and you didn’t. So, I took matters into my own hands.” My explanation does nothing to dwindle his harsh, dark expression. “Zane,” I say exasperatedly. “The definition of a
Femme Fatale
is an attractive and seductive woman, especially one who will ultimately cause distress to a man who becomes involved with her. It’s textbook. That’s in my blood now, and it’s something I use to make it through events like that one the other night.” I then lean across the counter at him, keeping my eyes wholly on him. “And just because we have potential doesn’t mean you get an exception to my rule. Make a joke of me; I’ll make one of you. That job was done three days ago. Now, grow up and get over it. ”

Zane’s eyes go wide, and I see the absolute humiliation smother his beautiful face. “He saw everything!”

I bite down on my lip to splutter my laughter. “Just be thankful the room wasn’t cold and you’re a well hung male,” I sarcastically tell him, standing back up. “Be an alpha Zane, beat back! It’s banter, get used to it if you’re really hell-bent on being a part of this horde.”

“Sorry if your brothers and I aren’t at the point of comparing the length of our penises!” Zane defends, his tone turning into a growl.

I decide to ignore and shudder as the mental image I’m granted is one I’d rather not see. “Ew,” I utter and turn away from him to approach the double door freezer. I throw the doors open and simply grin to myself. “Want some ice cream to try and melt that anger?” I ask, still facing the freezer as I pull the drawer. “Or are you sulking too much?”

“I’m about to go out on some job for Costello with Enzo and Carlo,” he tells me, declining gently. This will be the fifth time they’ve liaised with Costello and it still hasn’t gotten easier. Before it was just stupid jobs – getting money, sending a threat, seeing a delivery and shipment of sorts. Now, they’re going on a heist. How am I ever supposed to be at ease with that?!

“Ah, that,” I mutter and turn back, forgetting about the ice cream. If anything, I need wine or strong liquor for this. “Is it wise to go?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Zane asks me, incredulity hanging from his every word. “I’m still proving myself in this life, and I won’t be backing down easily. If this sort of thing what I have to do for now, so be it.”

“How angry was Gio over it?” I ask, casually aware of the storm that ripped through the house just after Costello had called my father as part of a deal.

“He wants blood,” Zane mutters mirthless, offering a chuckle of the same caliber. “Preferably mine. He hates how Costello has thrown him aside for me, but hey, at least I can offer some penance to that asshole of a brother of yours.”

“It won’t end well,” I dare to say, opting for the wine option of my diet for the evening. I quickly open the bottle and fill a glass, preparing for it to calm my nerves.

“Don’t fret so much, Amelia. He’s just getting a little dose of karma. I’m sure he’ll cope with it,” Zane comments coolly. He looks so calm and at peace with the fact he’s about to face his biggest job.

He may have successfully infiltrated the treat we hold by showing he’s an alpha with a will to do harm, but how will he cope when he’s faced with a roomful of brutes who Costello wants dead who will go down with
all
guns blazing?

It’s a dead man walking job.

And as if that wasn’t enough, I’m panicking at the fact that Giovanni is now being neglected from duties in favor of the new boy. Zane says he’ll cope, but I think otherwise.

I’m sure Gio won’t cope
, my thoughts speak, caressing my doubts. I know Giovanni. I have grown up alongside him, watched him eat, sleep, breathe this life, and welcome it with such adoration that he, himself, has become a watcher of death. He’s the devil’s advocate and the grim reaper’s protégé all rolled into one. He won’t pay kindly to being left to sit on a sideline while everyone else has all the
fun
.

Hearing the approach of voices, Zane hops down from his stool.

“There aren’t shortcuts in doing the right thing,” he announces, gives me a wink just as Enzo and Carlo enter the kitchen.

“Guess it’s time to go?” I ask, Enzo giving me a head nod. I feel a pang of doubt ripple coldly to life in the pit of my stomach. “Well then, you better get going. Don’t go bringing down half of Manhattan with you,” I warn, albeit sarcastically.

“See you later, Lia,” Enzo remarks, noticing my tone with him. “Don’t stay up too late; we have a big day tomorrow.”

I pout at his will to smother me with brotherly love and just hold my glass of wine up to him as the three of them leave the kitchen. Once I see them disappear from view, I top my glass off and head for the patio. It’s a warm July evening, and I intend to get merry and strive to forget what they’re up to.

As I sit myself down and look out at the backyard, the sun beginning to set, dusk settling in across the acres of land we live among, I realize how small I feel in this world. I used to feel like a big fish in a little pond, where everyone would bow down to me and I would have an effect. Now, I feel the opposite. I’m a little fish in a big pond and I’m about ready to be eaten alive. All of my charms and attributes no longer seem as powerful, nor do they bring about fear. Instead, I feel like everyone knows of me as the fallen one, the one who couldn’t do the job, the fickle one.

This has me wanting to run. The thought of failure is a heavy sin to carry and I’m burdened with it every day that Zane is here – he’s the one who beat Amelia Abbiati. Even as my love for him grows strong and I thank every day that I didn’t have to go through with my task, it still brings about my defamation. It’s all so bittersweet. I know, as I’m sure my father does, the feeling would diminish the moment I’m free of this house, this life, this family. But that is all wishful thinking.

“Hey.”

Manuel’s voice penetrates the calm I had gathered around me. I sit up, setting my glass of wine down and look at him. He stands in the doorway of the kitchen, looking impish and forlorn and an immediate frown pulls across my forehead, dragging my eyebrows together.

“Hey you,” I say, giving him a small smile. I gesture for him to come and take the seat opposite me. “Want a glass?” I ask, picking my glass up again as I watch him cross the patio.

He gives a small nod and I get up so I can quickly grab another glass. I down mine before I go back out and set to pouring us both a drink. I only sit once I’ve passed him the glass. I take a moment to study his face, and I deduce that my brother has never looked more haunted in all his years than he has in the weeks since I’ve been back home.

“You want to talk about anything?” I casually ask, not trying to sound too precautious with my tone. “I know it’s been a little crazy with me here and Zane, but I want you to know that I’m still here for you one hundred percent, Manuel.”

“I know,” he whispers, and I hate how troubled he seems to be.

“Then talk to me, baby brother,” I reply, offering a gentler tone than before. “I can’t help otherwise.”

He looks up at me, his bright blue eyes swimming with ample amounts of discourse and sorrow. We sit there for a moment while he gathers his bravado to speak, and I realize the detrimental effect my absence had on him, of all people. He used to just blurt words out at me, and now there’s hesitancy. My heart clenches at the damages I’ve done to my relationships in this family.

“It’s nothing,” he responds, diverting his gaze back to his full wine glass.

Taking the glass out of his hands, I place it onto the glass table beside us and set into motion a quick plan. I stand up, grab his hand, and drag him back into the house. He doesn’t fight and I guess that’s a good sign. I push him to the stool Zane left vacant and take my leave to finally pull the ice cream out of the freezer. My fingers instinctively go to mine and Manuel’s favorite – mint chocolate – and I turn back with a bright grin. Immediately, I see a bright light in his eyes and I move across the room, only stopping grab us a spoon each. As I make my way to occupy the seat beside my brother, I notice the time and realize I had been sitting outside almost an hour before Manuel had interrupted. Now, my thoughts wander to how the boys are getting on.

“I thought I was meant to be the brooding one tonight?” Manuel asks as I freeze to stare at the clock on the wall.

I shake my head, forcing myself back into reality. I say nothing, take my seat, and place the tub of ice cream between us. I offer my brother a spoon and pull the lid of the ice cream once he’s taken it. We both sit in silence for a moment, taking another spoonful of the delicious dessert. The calm that settles is easy, and I hope it’ll be enough for Manuel to open up. I don’t push him, nor do I want to. I know I’ve been an absentee sister, but I want to right my wrongs. My brothers should never have to pay for my shortcomings. All this time, I wanted to protect Manuel, and I abandoned him – maybe not by force, but the impact measures all the same.

"Do you ever feel like you were born into the wrong family?" Manuel asks, and I can hear essences of desolation dance upon his words. I can see the worry dangles in front of him and he knows my opinion on this will mean the world.

I offer a small smile for reassurance, drop my spoon into my ice cream, and turn my entire body to face him.

"Manuel, there are parts of this family that weren't made for you, but you were never born into the wrong family. I feel it too, but then I look at you, and Carlo, Bruno, and Enzo and I thank all of my lucky stars I was born into the right family. Without you four, my life would be meaningless. You're what keep me alive most days."

He looks at me disbelievingly, and I can’t help but smile.

“For the most part, this family is full of crooks, but Madre made sure we’d have a soul that wasn’t something easily corrupted. I look at you and want nothing more for you than a life away from Papà, but in the same sense, I look at you and see that one piece of you that’s a lot like the rest of us. You have the same compassion and sense of loyalty to some of us that we all have. The one that Enzo made sure we grew up with.”

There’s a small smile now pulling across Manuel’s face. “I’m really glad you finally came home. I like having you to help fight in my corner.”

"I will always fight for you, Manuel. Even when all your fight's left you. There is no way I'd ever let you go it alone in this life. Not when I love you so much, baby brother. You do understand that, right?"

"Yes," he whispers, and I watch his gaze fall. "But Giovanni seems to think I don't deserve to be here."

"Giovanni doesn’t think any of us deserve to be here, but there's one thing he can't change... you fight to be here just as he does. You don't have to kill people or abuse your position, but you have to be tougher and respect yourself. Manuel, you're not weak. I know that, and I'm sure Gio knows that, too. Just find a little strength to play him at your own game." I watch my brother survey my face, obviously trying to see if it’s just that easy. “I don’t ever expect you to kill someone to be a part of my family. The same goes for Enzo and Carlo.”

“But with Zane here, it’s looking worse for me,” Manuel says as he stabs his spoon back into the defrosting ice cream. “He’s making it uncomfortable for a lot of people and he’s making me look bad.”

“Zane is here for other reasons than upstanding you.” I find myself getting angry at how belittled my brother has come to feel. “He’s here for me, but he has to do this right in order to.”

“And when he’s done with that?” Manuel asks, his tone stiffening in agitation. “Are you going to leave us like Bruno?”

“Manuel,” I begin to say, my voice nothing more than a guilt-riddled whisper as I realize my brother is suffering immensely at the plans already set into motion without any of us noticing. “I’m never going to do what Bruno did. If I leave, it’ll be with you by my side. You do know that, right?” I ask and he shrugs. “Shall I let you in on a little secret?”

“What?” he asks me, his eyes scrutinizing me slightly.

“Back when Papà first gave the hit on Zane, I asked Carlo to free me from this house. I was going to cut free and run with Zane. Admittedly, do exactly what Bruno had done just to secure some sort of future. But when you came out gay and I saw how much hatred that inspired in Giovanni, I asked Carlo to forget about me and get you out instead.”