Vicious Minds Part 3 (Children of Vice #6) - J.J. McAvoy Page 0,2

guest bathroom?” I snapped, annoyed.

One of the security men had notified me after the party that they had seen Ethan enter with a girl. When I spoke to Ethan about it, he just brushed it off, saying she was weird. And I was more focused on explaining why he shouldn’t be in the bathroom with girls…at least not at his age.

“I expected you to be annoyed that she was alone with your precious Ethan. However, sending her to Italy is a bit harsh, Mel. They are just children. They don’t know—”

“I’m not the one sending her.”

I paused. “So, why do we care again?”

“She has a one-way ticket to Lazio, Italy. Do you know who lives in Lazio, Italy?” she questioned, and before I could answer, she did. “Fiorello Orsini. Do you know who Fiorello Orsini is?”

“He used to work for your father, right?”

“My father use to call him mano sinistra?”

“Left hand?” I snickered. “The nicknames your people come up with.”

“A right-hand man is an indispensable aid, someone you can count on, someone who is a soldier and ready to follow every command, in the most efficient way. But a left-hand man? He is hard to control. He gets the job done but not in the prettiest or best way. He follows orders but also has a mind of his own and sometimes desires to take control. No matter what they do, they are always crooked.”

“And Fiorello was okay with that nickname?” I snickered because it felt more of an insult than an honor.

“My father only told me that,” she said humorlessly, with a serious tone I didn’t quite understand. “My father warned me never to get too close to Fiorello, which was strange to me. I was raised around bad men. Yet he’d never really warned me about anyone except Fiorello Orsini. Normally, I wouldn’t have listened, in order to find out the truth about him myself. If he were completely a loose cannon, my father wouldn’t have him.”

“And what did you discover?”

“Fiorello is a complete and utter psychopath.”

“Mel, I hate to break it to you, but people say we are psychopaths.” In fact, we’ve been called sociopaths, narcissists, narcissistic sociopaths, the list is endless.

“Do you rape women for fun?” She questions.

My eyebrow rose at that, and she simply nodded. “Thought so.”

“He apparently liked a ‘good fight’ in his women. And it was none of my father's business so long as he did his job and didn’t screw us over. Everyone was criminal in some way. My father never really cared about any other women but me…and maybe my mother. But that’s not my point. My point is, no matter how hard and brutal my father was on me, no matter how depraved he was to his enemies, he still wanted me to be as safe as possible.” She frowned as her finger tapped on the now-empty glass of brandy. “We have a daughter the same age as this Calliope. Is there any reason that you would send Dona to a man like Fiorello Orsini?”

I cracked my jaw to the side, now annoyed with the mere question. I glanced down at the phone again. “Who the fuck sends their little girl to a rapist?”

“The son of a rapist,” she answered with ease.

“What?”

“Roman Affini used to be Michelangelo Orsini—the only son of Fiorello Orsini, after your father killed his other sons.”

Now it was coming together. “That nobody family you insist on inviting to all our damn events because you think they’re out for revenge? How long has it been? You warned me about them when we got married. And they have done nothing but make lipstick and eyeshadow. Now you are worrying about why their daughter is going to live with her crazy rapist grandfather?”

“No one just lets go of their children’s murders. My gut tells me something is very wrong with that family. I just can’t put my finger on it. I’m missing something.”

I sighed, tossing the phone onto the table. “So, what do you want to do? Go massacre them all?”

“I knew you would fucking dismiss me,” she cussed, rising from the chair.

“I’m not dismissing you.” I sort of was. “I’m just saying, a plane ticket is not evidence of some massive plot against our family.”

“She told me she was going to get stronger.” She stared me down. “And now she’s going to hell…where a little girl becomes ash or a phoenix.”

“How poetic,” I replied, rising to my feet. “But we have actual enemies to face now. Today. Let’s