Dance Of Devils

One - Lorenzo

Chapter One

Lorenzo

  I would burn the world to the ground for her if she asked.

  That was the first thought I woke to, taking in the dark hair spilling onto the pillow beside me, face tucked into my neck in blissful rest as I blinked awake this morning. Her steady breath fanning across my chest, hands resting so cautiously on my stomach, even in sleep looking out for my wound. My Hell-Raiser, so delicate when she wants to be. I would gladly burn the world to the ground for her.

  There are very few things left in the world that can terrify the shit out of me. I was never afraid of the dark, heights have never stressed me out, drowning has never been a fear I've had. Maybe at some point, I had a fear of dying but, putting a gun up to someone's head enough times, a fear of death no longer becomes a problem.

  When my sister was killed, that was the first time I was reminded of what it was to be afraid. The loss of control, the dread, the heavy sickness that sits deep in your stomach. You can't shake it. That fear, however, was overshadowed by a rage that seared straight through me. I burned from the inside out. I craved destruction, to set the world on fire to feel the same pain as I did. A flame only I had the power to put out. I wanted to watch the world choke on its last breath with a smile on my face, waiting for the ash to settle.

  I nearly lost myself in those flames. Burning the world for my sister nearly cost me everything.

  "Tell me about her," Nadia had murmured into my chest, half-asleep, curled up in bed beside me last night. "Tell me about your sister. You never talk about her."

  There was a reason for that, I thought bitterly to myself. We had stayed up in an attempt to battle the nightmares that had started to shake through Nadia on a nightly basis now, talking about our families. Nadia told me the few things she remembered of hers and I avoided talking about mine as best I could through the bunched eyebrows of my passerotta next to me. It had never been easy to talk about my family. The broken pieces of it that stayed in my memories never felt worthy of explaining to anyone, but, for Nadia, I tried. And yet when she brought up my sister, I felt like I might shatter.

Lilianna was the hardest to talk about without crushing guilt threatening to tear me from the inside out. I'd failed as a big brother, as one of the men who was supposed to protect her, care for her, cherish her.

  I swallowed harshly against the flood of emotions that came over me. "She was the best part of all of us," I muttered against Dee's hair, kissing the top of her head, loving the feel of her in my arms. "Kind and loving. So strong and fearless. Even as a kid, there was something so incredibly magnetic about her. Everyone who met her loved her."

  "Sounds pretty special to me," Nadia answered, her lips brushing against the crook of my neck sending shockwaves of pleasure right through me. She grinned against my skin, knowing exactly the kind of distraction she was giving me, knowing exactly how to draw out whatever information she wanted right from me.

  "She was," I admitted, "she wasn't perfect, she still pissed me off half the time, but she was my kid sister. I loved her more than anything."

  I thrived off of the destruction I caused after her death, of the world I created out of it. For a long time, that was all there was: destruction. My brothers had to drag me out of my misery, pull me from the flames before I myself got burned, and together we forged our empire.

  "Love," Nadia corrected me, "You love her. Even if she's gone, you can still love her. It's that love that kept you going."

  How much I wanted that to be true. I didn't think I would have kept going if it wasn't for my men, for my empire. And I was fine with that for a long time. There was nothing in my life but my work and the people who depended on me to keep them safe. No close ties, no emotional attachments. Even my brothers, Giovani, Nico, Piero— I kept them at arm's length.