Looking up from the stack of bills, I scan the screen. Instead of finding the results I expect—which is nothing—I find myself faced with links to news reports, all of them very recent. I click on the first search result, which is from a newspaper in Brooklyn, New York City. The article is fairly extensive and way longer than I’m comfortable reading, but I catch the highlights. Carlo Mancuso, alleged Italian mob boss to the Mancuso Crime Family, was arrested back in May for the creation, sale, and distribution of meth around the five boroughs. It takes me a few paragraphs before I realize why I should give a shit about this guy.
“Mancuso’s son, Michael (19) was hospitalized for a gunshot wound. Mancuso’s daughter, Alexandra (19) is said to be recovering from the events with family out west,” I say, reading the article aloud. On a hunch, I do a web search for Alexandra Mancuso. A few links pop up: Our Lady of the Immaculate College Preparatory School; a Facebook page; three different blogs that appear to be fan pages for criminal organizations; and several news articles that relate to her father’s arrest. I click on one of the blog links, and sure enough, the page is filled with information about suspected mobsters, and the Mancuso family takes center stage. With Carlo’s arrest being so recent, it seems he’s become something of a sensation. Three posts down, I find a few pictures of Mancuso’s daughter, Alexandra. She looks to be of average height for a woman, her outfit doesn’t do much to show off her figure, and her long, dark brown hair is very well maintained. What catches my eye is the caption: ALEXANDRA, PRINCESS TO THE MANCUSO CRIME FAMILY, OUT FOR LUNCH WITH HER AUNT GLORIA.
Princess.
My mood suddenly dissolves completely as I’m left with zero doubt that this Alexandra is Duke’s Princess. And she’s beautiful in a classy way that no Lost Girl ever will be. Her makeup is subtle, her clothes are clearly expensive, and the way she carries herself in the photos shows she was brought up with manners. No wonder Duke’s got a thing for her—or spends time with her—whatever it is, she matters in some way. Looks like the bastard biker’s taking a shot above his station. Well, if he can try to raise his standards, so can I. Taking a peek of the clock, I see that it’s nearly seven. I’m supposed to meet Darren at eight. I would rather hide out than see him, but the drama that would ensue from me standing him up isn’t worth it. I close out the browser, turn off the computer, retreat to my bedroom while doing my best to ignore the hushed whispers coming from behind Jeremy’s closed door. I have to get out of this house.
Chapter 5
I’M A DISASTER. Even after my shower, I can still feel Duke all over me. Part of me feels dirty as hell about that, and the other part of me doesn’t really feel anything. My dyed blonde hair is teased less than I usually go for when I’m going out. I also tried to keep the eye makeup to a minimum, but it looked all wrong. I suppose, in a way, I look a bit classier—more like fucking Princess—but it wasn’t me.
The girl in the mirror with the smoothed-down hair and pale pink lip gloss looks so generic that I doubt anyone would be able to pick her out of a crowd. My green eyes don’t stand out, and my roots are that much more obvious. Blotting my lips, I check my red lipstick—the one part of my normal self I decided to keep. Once I’m satisfied, I grab my purse and head out for The 101 Club.
When I open my bedroom door, I’m met with Jeremy and the girl he’s been entertaining for the evening. They’re in his doorway, and his shirtless torso towers over her petite frame. She looks so much like the last girl he had over, and it takes me a moment to realize she is the last girl he had over. My brother isn’t much for repeat visitors, so this is a new development. He must really like this one if he isn’t making her sneak out his window.
“Do your parents know you’re here?” I ask her. Slowly, she turns her head in my direction, but her eyes focus on the wall behind me. The pause is enough for me to know the truth.
“Okay, awesome. So Jer, when her dad shows up all pissed off, I’m going to let you deal with him,” I say and walk off down the hall. He catches me at the front door and places an oversized hand on the door jamb, effectively stopping me from leaving without a fight.
“Was that necessary?” he asks. I turn around and lean against the closed door.
“Yeah, Jeremy. It was,” I say, folding my arms over my chest and staring up at him.
“It’s not like what I just did is any different than what you do with the club,” he says with disgust in his voice. I blanch in a mix of surprise and embarrassment. I don’t talk to my brother about my social life, and he never asks. I guess I just assumed he was so into his own thing that he hadn’t noticed.
“I’m the adult in this house,” I say.
“So what, that means you get to do whatever you want? I’m just your stupid kid brother you got stuck with, so I have to listen to your hypocritical bullshit? Fuck that,” he yells.
“Yeah,” I yell back, “That’s exactly what it means. And if you want to keep inviting your little girls over for play dates you’ll knock it off with the attitude,” I say.