“But—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Caster,” she said shortly. “Focus on what’s in front of you.”

Fuck that. I was already two years in. By now, my father had been a detective and had started receiving accolades. He was hailed as the best of the best, and I was left standing in his shadow, a fraction of the man that he was.

“Sargeant White? My office,” the chief called.

She sighed. “I’ll be back.” She scooped up the files and dropped them into her filing cabinet before shutting it.

I nodded and watched her go. The office door shut and my hands moved before my brain could keep up. I’d shoved my leg against the file cabinet just as it closed. Sure enough, it hadn’t locked the way she thought it did. I pulled it open and reached inside. Taking out one of the folders, I scanned the info and moved to the next one.

The Vitale family was like a ghost story to a bunch of camp kids when it came to cops. An old crime family, they ran New York and what they got into was nothing short of shocking. Guns, drugs, prostitution; you name it, they did it.

I flipped through and stopped. One of their known clubs wasn’t far from where I lived. I looked at the clock on the far wall, and a grin tugged at my lips. Okay, I probably wouldn’t find anything. But it was worth checking out, right?

Glancing around, I made sure no one was watching as I snapped a picture of the page and shoved my phone back into my pocket. I closed the drawer and went back to the desk.

Seems like I have plans after all.

The soft feel of paper against my fingertips’ pads as I turned the page was soothing to the soul like a scalpel slowly slicing through warm flesh. The words were beautiful poetry that sang to my soul every single line, a piece of the author that could never be taken back.

“What are you reading now, Enzo?” Giancarlo asked, effectively bursting the bubble around me.

He knew how to ruin a perfectly peaceful moment. I should be used to it working with my half-brothers for so long. Giancarlo’s sense of personal space needed work.

I attempted to engross myself in the book once more to surround myself with the world of fiction, but no such luck. A shadow was cast over the pages obscuring the pure poetry I’d been reading. A heavy sigh slipped from my chest and out of my mouth.

“Let’s se—” Giancarlo attempted to snatch my book away.

Don’t touch my things. Agitation settled in the pit of my stomach and fizzled out just as quickly. Holding onto anything was nearly impossible for me.

The moment his fingers came within an inch of the book, I had a knife out and pressed firmly against his exposed wrist. He went still as our gazes locked. One wrong move, and he’d be decorating our oldest brother’s office in red. And after the last incident, I doubted Giancarlo wanted to pay for another renovation.