My eyes go wide and I stare at Tony, this young man who looks so much like Christian but who is clearly far, far more brazen.
Christian, to his credit, simply leans back against the arm of the couch and stares his brother down. “What makes you think I’m going to do that, Tony?”
Tony scoffs. “I’m not an i***t, Chris. I see what all of this is leading up to.”
My eyes flick anxiously to Nico and Frankie, sitting on the floor on the two other sides of the coffee table, completing our little circle. What on earth did Nico tell Tony in the car?
Why is Tony here, anyway?
What the hell went wrong?
“You don’t know anything, little brother,” Christian says, cool. “You should go home to your mommy. Have her cook your supper, wipe your ass.”
My eyes flick up to Christian, remembering that Bia
