I headed for a shower to wash the cut hairs from my flesh. When I got out again and ran some of Frankie’s product into the longer length at the top of my hair to style it, I almost didn’t recognise myself. Or more like, I recognised a man who didn’t feel like me anymore. My beard had been trimmed down to a thick covering of stubble, my hair shaved in close on the sides. Once I slipped into one of the perfectly fitting suits Frankie had bought me, I almost felt like I was stepping into an old skin.
But maybe this wasn’t the flesh of the man I’d once been. Maybe I didn’t have to be Nicoli Vitoli anymore. And maybe I didn’t have to pretend to be Angelo Romero either. What if I was Nicoli Romero? A little of both men and a lot of something new too. I liked the idea of that better than trying to play dress up as someone I wasn’t anymore, or maybe never had been at all.
It was impossible to miss the sound of the three Romero brothers arriving back at the apartment as Rocco howled like a wolf the moment I heard the elevator doors ding and the other two laughed raucously like they were all sharing some joke.
I headed out to meet them and was almost bowled over by Enzo throwing his arms around me. “Look at that handsome fucker!” he cooed, the scent of whiskey washing over my face as he seemed to be using me to hold himself upright for a moment. “Now I know you’re related to us. We’re the best looking bunch of brothers in the whole of Sinners Bay.”
Tyson completely ignored me as Coco came tearing out of whatever nook he’d been hiding in and the two of them instantly started chasing around and playing together.
I laughed as I pushed Enzo back a step, eying the tattoos which crept over his fingers as he fiddled with his tie. He looked the least clean cut out of the three of them, ink on show at his collar and cuffs, his black hair tied in a topknot and shaved on the sides and there was something animalistic about him. Although I guessed that could be said of all of us. But if I had to put a name to each creature, the others would be easier. Rocco was the wolf, leader of the pack, Frankie was a crocodile, lurking beneath calm waters, waiting to snap. But Enzo...he was something way less predictable and utterly fearless, like a tiger, beautiful but fucking deadly. I guessed I was something a lot less subtle like a bear snarling over its territory and ready to take on the damn world for what was mine, which wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
“Where’s my woman?” Rocco called as he headed across the room and hunted down the sound system, turning on some music as he started to dance to All Star by Smash Mouth and the others groaned as he began singing at the top of his lungs.
Frankie called out to offer me a drink and I followed him over to the kitchen as he poured out a healthy measure of scotch and slid it across the table to me.
“We’ve ordered pizzas,” he said with a grin. “I thought we could have a family bonding night. If it’s not too much for your girl?”
“She’s taken on worse than a night surrounded by a bunch of mobster assholes,” I replied as I took a long sip of my drink. “But if she gets overwhelmed by all of the testosterone in the air then I’ll gladly tell you all to fuck off.”
“Don’t forget this is my home, fratello,” Frankie said with a laugh. “You can’t kick me out of shit.”
“I’m bigger than you, so I’m pretty sure I can.”
He glanced at me like he was deciding whether or not that was true. All four of us were over six foot, but I was bulkier than him. His muscle was all clean cut and defined, I was just pure brawn.
“I’m willing to bet I’m faster though,” he said. “Which would even the odds.”
I laughed darkly, wondering if we should put that to the test with a brawl sometime. That was the kind of things brothers did, right?
“There they are!” Rocco called, forgetting his dance as he turned towards the corridor where Sloan had just emerged with River cradled to her chest. “The loves of my