This is not a story of love.
This is a story of revenge and the bond created from it.
The Gallo family took everything from us.
They killed my mother and sister, leaving me and my twin brother fighting for our lives.
My father was supposed to be there that night. He should have been there. Should have protected them—us.
When you strip a man of all he cares about, you’re left with a soulless entity seething with primal rage. He promised to turn Gallo’s bloodline to dust to get his retribution.
And he did.
All but one.
I was seven years old when I was taken in the night. I don’t remember much of life before that.
All I know now is the glaring eyes of a boy who hates me, and the comfort I find in the boy whose face mirrors his.
I’m not part of this family, but they’re all I have familiar as one.
To hate is easy.
And I do hate them.
But to love even in hate is what hardens you, strengthens you, gives you reason.
The truth is I shouldn’t love them, that all these years are leading somewhere I won’t want to go.
But I do…
I love them both.
The only question left now is, do they love me?