We head into the dining room, where everyone else is seated around the table. I make a beeline for Cammi, kissing her head and greeting her first, before I move on to Eloise and then Zoe. It’s no secret that Cammi is my favourite sister-in-law. I don’t know why I connected so well with her. Perhaps it’s because she’s young. She and Vin are the youngest out of all of us. And yet, sometimes I think they’re the most grown up too.

“Sorry we’re late,” I say, taking my seat next to Aria. My hand lands on her thigh.

“No, you’re not.” Marcel laughs. “You’re late every fucking week. Some of us actually want to eat before the food goes cold.”

“Language.” Daisy glares at Marcel.

“What? He’s a De Bellis. You know he’s going to cuss like a baby sailor anyway.”

“No, he is not.” Daisy aims a finger at Marcel.

“Okay, can we get on with the eating part?” Gio grunts.

It’s not until halfway through the meal that someone mentions the elephant in the room. That someone being Marcel.

“So what are we doing about the curse? Just pretend it’s not alive and living in a filthy MC clubhouse?” No clarification is needed. We all know he’s referring to our mother.

“She’s dead,” Gio insists.

“You kill her?” I ask him. I don’t care either way. I have the same kind of hatred for our mother that my oldest brother does.

The younger ones, though, they don’t remember her like we do. They never knew her. She wasn’t a bad mother. When she was around to do the mothering. But then she walked out and left us behind with the monster that was our father. If she hadn’t done that, Vin wouldn’t have had to go through what he did.

And that pisses me the fuck off. Fuck, I might kill her if someone else hasn’t.

“Not yet,” Gio answers calmly.

Chapter Four

Cursed. I’ve always known our family was cursed. I thought it was in the love department. And really, if you look at how each and every one of us has had to fight for our relationships, then you could see how my theory is feasible.

But recent events have me thinking the woman who birthed us started this whole thing. Cursed us. I’ve always had good thoughts when it came to our mother. Now, even thinking about her has me wanting to throw up. She’s not a mother, because a mother wouldn’t do what she did.

I knew she was alive for a lot longer than my brothers. I kept it to myself, almost believing I made the whole thing up when I saw her in that clubhouse. I wanted to believe that I was seeing things, that the woman just looked like her.