I clung at Shane's red sweatshirt. The place where I pressed my face to it soaked with my tears. My sobbing was hysterical, my arms trembled and even the kind words that my brother repeated from time to time to calm me down didn't help here, nor his hand that lightly stroked my back.

My breathing was shallow and my heart was pounding. A large and greasy lump stuck in my throat, which only intensified my desire to vomit. My cheeks were sticky with tears that flowed in endless streams from my swollen and red eyes.

"Hailie, take a deep breath. Come on. Take a deep breath," Shane instructed me and seemed to be trying to sound a little more firmly than he had just before because he noticed that his previous words were ignored by me. When he realized that this time I really wanted to listen to him, but I just simply couldn't and only managed to hiccup, even more, he immediately softened again.

I heard him sighing and suddenly his loose embrace, in which I was desperately seeking comfort, tensed and tightened around my small body. Oh God, I needed that. That someone would hold me tightly and never let go.

Shane smelled of mint and kind of a tad of fresh mixture of salty and caramel popcorn. It's possible that it was because he was gorging himself on it a few moments ago. His sweatshirt was baggy and soft, probably made of very good material, which gave more comfort than most of the pillows would. Finally, I closed my eyes not to be distracted by the view of his not exactly tidy room.

Such comfort, affecting almost all my senses, meant that after a while I finally calmed down. My head ached and I got sick, and even though I stopped crying, sudden, intermittent breaths were still occasionally attacking me.

Shane heroically survived one of the worse outbursts I have ever experienced. It was almost as bad as when I yelled at my brothers and got sick afterward, but this time my brother's support turned out to be a huge help.

We sat on his large bed messily covered with a black bedspread. Eugenie was still not back and her absence was slowly beginning to be visible at every step in the Monets' residence.

Shane's bedroom had a large desk on which for some reason two laptops were lying, there were also large, menacingly-looking loudspeakers that he probably never used, because I imagined that if he played anything on them, he would probably sweep away this house from the earth's surface. In one corner of the room, there was a large punching bag, similar to the two ones that were also hanging in the gym. A flat TV screen was attached to the wall, and on the ground beneath it, a gamepad connected to PlayStation was carelessly dropped.

"Done?" Shane asked gently.

I sniffed and shook my head, staring blindly at the floor. I didn't bawl anymore, but a heavyweight in my chest didn't disappear.

He, loosening his embrace, leaned toward his bedside table. I was attached to him like a koala bear, so I certainly didn't make his task easier. With one hand he reached into the drawer and pulled it out, then fished out a pack of tissues from its depths. He shared it with me. How grateful I was for it! I immediately sniffed my nose and wiped the tears, which didn't dry from my face yet.

"All right, now tell me what's going on," Shane demanded again, rubbing my arm with encouragement.

I sighed.

"I-I don't think I want to talk," I mumbled and if I was able to cry more, another portion of tears would flow out of my eyes.

"Well, you have no choice because I want to know," he replied, and when I looked at him I saw that slight amusement lit his face.

At first, I got a little annoyed and frowned, but when Shane raised his brows and even the corners of his mouth quivered in response to my grumpy face, I just sighed again. I couldn't be angry with him and I decided to tell him the truth. I owed it to him for his comfort.

"I've had an argument with Vince," I confessed quietly, and I twitched at the very memory, still so fresh in my head.

A very small and sympathetic smile appeared now on Shane's lips.

"You've had an argument? Or was it just him yelling at you?"

I looked at him.

"Vince doesn't yell, remember?"

"Well, yeah, true, he just whispers ominously," Shane chuckled and I won't say, although I was far from being happy, I snorted. As a result, I had to again quickly wipe my nose on a crumpled tissue that I was squeezing in one hand all the time.

Shane seemed pleased with himself that he had been able to evoke the first signs of change in my mood. However, I quickly became gloomy again. I looked down and started playing with a completely used tissue. In the end, I gained courage and confessed.

"I told Vince that I hate him and that he's hopeless and... and the worst brother ever."

I thought that if I said it out loud, I would feel better, but in fact, it was even worse. I still thought I had the right to be angry with Vincent, but when I spoke these words, I felt something was not okay, that it definitely sounded wrong, and even though I was still feeling this great anger at my eldest brother, my stupid, sensitive heart filled with guilt.

Oh, but I was right, wasn't it...?

In my head, I came back to Vincent's office. Just a moment ago I was sitting in the armchair in front of this huge, massive desk, in the perfect position to be scanned by my brother's sharp eyes. Naturally, according to my habit, I was biting my lip.

I lied to him and it was so perfidious that I didn't even know how to defend myself now. I saw no hope here or any solution other than simply admitting the truth. Vince had a recording with sound, he knew that going to the bakery was fully planned and further lies would only add oil to the fire.

Avoiding his gaze, I confirmed Leo's version, revealing the backstage of our plan. Vince listened carefully to what I was saying and I could literally feel him judging my fault.

"You knew perfectly well that I wouldn't like the fact that this whole Leo accosted you at school, so together with him, you plotted a way to trick me," he concluded aloud. He wasn't really delighted.

"It wasn't to trick you..." I broke in quickly. I didn't really think about it like that. Trick sounded like cheating. It was way too serious and used in this context, it seemed a little exaggerated to me.

Vince looked at me with his terrifying look. I don't know whether he made such an impression intentionally or just that it was his innate quality, but anyway he brought me to a state where I could only wait for a heart attack.

"Ah, no? So what was it for?" he asked with honest and cool interest.

I didn't have a good answer to this question and for now, I really couldn't focus on thinking of it but apparently for Vince it wasn't a problem as he gladly continued.

"You know, Hailie, why your friend told me the truth, although he probably expected it to cause you trouble?"

I shook my head somberly. I haven't had time to analyze Leo's betrayal yet.

Vince leaned back in his chair, ran his hand through his swept-back hair, and closed his laptop with a calm, careless movement. Well, at least he wasn't going to torture me by examining frame by frame this recording.

I waited tensely for him to speak again, which he did after a while.

"Because he's smarter than I expected him to be. He risked telling the truth because he hoped that I would appreciate it and agree to his request, which I theoretically did. He was ready to help his mother at all costs, even at the price of giving you, who helped him, up to me. Do you know why he did that?"

At this point, my eyes began to burn, because I understood what Vincent was driving at. Still, I preferred to shake my head. He knew I knew, but he didn't mind answering for me.

"Because he chose a family over a girl he barely knows," Vincent hissed, and the sound of venom and anger hidden in these quietly spoken words sent a green light to tears that immediately rolled down my cheeks.

Vince stared at me intensely and shook his head slowly. He was really angry. Not exasperated or annoyed, as sometimes. He was terribly angry.

"Tell me, dear child, how many times do you have to burn yourself to stop purposely stepping in a fire? How come people around you know that family always comes first and you still have trouble understanding this?"

I wrapped my arms around myself. I was cold and the ice emanating from Vincent didn't warm me up. In addition, I was sorry because what he said and how he interpreted the whole situation was completely wrong. This was not the point! Instead of politely listening to my brother's perspective, I chose a different path, irritating myself a bit.

"Maybe people around me don't have families in the mafia?" I blurted sharply, putting the emphasis on the last word, and immediately after that, shivers went through my whole body. One of my hands twitched desperately as if it wanted to go to my mouth and cover it tightly so that nothing else escapes them. I stopped it because it was too late anyway.

Vince wasn't surprised or upset or even worried. At least he didn't show it, because he was still staring at me with the same expression as if his face was stone.

"Probably not," he finally admitted coldly, then tilted his head. "So this is your problem?"

I opened my eyes wide. He didn't even bother to lie!

"You won't deny it?" I asked in amazement and a trace of panic because part of me really wanted Vince to laugh at me and assured me that this was not true.

"No."

I stared at him as if he was a ghost. Did I hear him right? I leaned forward and was all nervous, as if in contrast to him, who was calm.

"Vince... Why, when I asked questions before, no one wanted to answer me, and now suddenly you just reveal your big secret to me? It doesn't make sense, it.." I shook my head in disbelief, trying to sort it all out. I didn't have the energy to finish the sentence. My brothers were simply something else.

"I don't reveal you a secret, Hailie. I only confirm what you have learned on your own. After all, the fact that some of our businesses are illegal is nothing new to you. However, the secret you will not know is all the details that are hidden under this elevated name "mafia"," Vincent explained, quoting this word from my speech with a little amusement.

I was blinking for a moment, feeling the rebellion rise in me. I was so nervous that I didn't even register that I jumped to my feet and caught the edge of the desk that separated me from Vincent.

"Details such as attacking other people's businesses and stealing their money? How can you do that?!"

"Be careful, Hailie. You're talking a lot," he warned me ominously.

"You don't even try to deny it!" I groaned reproachfully. How much would I give him to tell me that I am wrong! "So there are more people like Mrs. Hardy?"

"Oh, there are plenty of debtors. People love to borrow money."

I watched his impassiveness and indifference with disgust on my face. An uncomfortable thought also occurred to me. Is Vincent a bad man?

That was too much for me.

"You have so much money! Why do you need more? Why do you lend it to others knowing that half of them won't be able to give it back? And you still impose some inhuman interest on them!"

I breathed quickly and felt uncomfortable with taking such breaks because I preferred it when words just spilled out of my mouth. The thick silence was killing me very much. I stared at him like a small child who bruised their knee and whom nobody wants to comfort now.

Vince chuckled under his breath, but in such a defiant way that had nothing to do with humor. Then he shook his head slightly, as if to himself, and then fixed his sharp and serious look back at me. First, he straightened up, raised his chin, put his hands straight on the counter, and slowly rose from his place. I was still standing too, but of course, Vincent was towering over me in the blink of an eye. He was like a tsunami wave that was slowly gathering to sink me in a moment. It didn't even help that he leaned a little. I immediately became small and wished I was the first to get up because I probably provoked him to do the same.

"First, Hailie," he began in a very quiet, balanced, and insensitive voice. "Be careful, please. Don't forget who you are talking to," he said, and my jaw almost dropped. I saw him looking masterfully at me and I was eager to bring him down because he openly considered himself a god, a fricking ruler of the universe. Or he deliberately wanted to impress me. At his words, I even blushed a little, I don't even know if it was because of shame or anger. Meanwhile, he continued. "Secondly, don't you think that your comments about our family's funds are out of place? Please leave business management to me. We can possibly talk about this in the future when you get the appropriate education or experience. Certainly not now, when you are only childishly shouting things that you think you know and understand."

My blush increased when I realized that Vince could only see me as a child and nothing else. Part of me thought it might be better because he'd be more lenient with me, but the other part rebelled against his attitude.

"If I don't understand, why don't you explain it to me?" I asked, frowning. I tried to keep up appearances, but I was very nervous. My heart was about to leap out of my chest, and the hands, with which I squeezed the end of the desk, began to sweat heavily.

"Because I have no such obligation or willingness," my brother replied simply. "Nothing has changed. I still don't think you should be initiated into a family business. That is why I am telling you again that you should stay away from it and stop intensely interfering in matters which I do everything to protect you from," he growled and raised a finger, pointing to my healing cheek. "Thank God, it's only a bruise, girl. Thank God."

If he tried to scare me, he succeeded. I lowered my head a little and fought tears.

"I just wanted to help Leo's mom..." I mumbled, returning to this subject.

Vince leaned toward me even more.

"Next time worry. About. Yourself," he advised quietly and stared at me for a moment. He turned his head a little to the side without looking away from me and added, "You should've come to me with it right away."

I gazed up at him.

"And what would you do? You wouldn't help him, would you?" I squeaked.

"No. But I'd listen to you and maybe change my mind in the future," he leaned forward again without taking his hands off the counter. "And I would still trust you."

I lowered my head again immediately. Hearing such words directed at me was an experience terrible enough, let alone looking at those blue iris whose seriousness and coldness only confirmed them.

"I just... I... I-I don't want to use money from an illegal source," I finally choked out because I wanted to change the subject and sum up the sense of my earlier statements. I kept twisting my fingers, but I looked up in surprise as Vincent clicked his tongue impatiently.

At first, he lowered his head as if collecting his thoughts, but then lifted it back.

"Hailie..." he started tiredly, but at the same time also irritably. "Get finally over the fact that you were born in a family like that and not another. I'm sorry if you think you were unlucky. Neither you nor I will change that, so I advise you to just accept the situation..."

"I'm just saying I don't want any more expensive clothes if they are paid with money from Mrs. Hardy's pocket!" I called out a little too loudly.

"Do not interrupt me," Vincent growled, now seriously annoyed. I shut up immediately, but it was too late. I made him angry. "And I'm telling you it's impossible because with this type of money the house where you live was built years ago. With this money, we buy food that's in our fridge. With this money, I pay your school fees and, in the future, your college. Your bedroom has been decorated with it, your cosmetics, clothes, every pen, and every single hair clip have been bought. Your vacation. And when you were wondering if you were in a mood to swim rather in the pool or the sea, your friend Leo was slaving in some miserable-paid, summer job to help his mother pay her bills. This is the world. It's unfair. Therefore, enjoy and appreciate that you are privileged." Vince fell silent for a moment, looking irritably at my big eyes and shaking lower lip, then he continued, a little calmer. "Yes, Hailie. That is the way it will be as long as I am your legal guardian. If you don't like it, that's tough. Believe me, there are teens in this world who have it much worse than you."

I didn't dare look at him again. Am I really ungrateful? My mother didn't raise me like that, and suddenly I felt stupid that I let Vincent think I felt so bad here. I didn't, it was about something else...

"To be honest, I am already tired of constantly explaining to you how important respect for the family is for us. Since you are learning so slowly, all I can do is increase the intensity of your lessons," Vincent continued, and I froze. "You let me down and you lost my trust. You should know that it will be very difficult for you to rebuild it. If it wasn't for you being my sister, I would even say that it's impossible."

Then the beginnings of my hysteria appeared. That lump in my throat and all the trembling. His words hurt me terribly.

Vince finally sat down, but I couldn't move, although I also really wanted to rest. He focused his attention on something, probably on his phone, because he murmured a quiet "Come in" and the door behind me opened almost immediately.

A blond-haired security guard entered the office. He stopped next to the other chair, but of course, he didn't take it, just looked at Vincent in full readiness to follow his instructions. I gave him a quick look out of the corner of my eye, and then I also looked, slightly suspicious, at my brother. I didn't know what to expect.

"Do you remember our conversation over the weekend?" Vincent began, obviously addressing the employee. I was even more stressed. What is going on?

The security guard nodded and, unknowingly, looked at me for a split second.

"Yes, sir."

Vince, immediately after this assurance, also looked at my poor person.

"Sonny was supposed to replace your old bodyguard. He was supposed to watch you when you go out without the company of me or the rest of our brothers," Vincent began flatly. "But I changed my mind."

The security guard didn't change his expression. He was very concentrated and staring at his boss, who turned to him again.

"From now on you will watch her all the time. At home, you don't have to sit in the same room with her, but I want you to always know exactly where she is. You won't have access to her bedroom unless you have reason to believe that she is in danger. She goes to school with Shane and Tony, but I want you to always follow their car, then during the classes, to wait outside the school area and to return, also accompanying them. As for her going out alone, her previous guards tried to be as discreet as they could. I am not asking you for that, I don't care anymore. As for me, if you think it's necessary, you can even hold her hand."

"Yes, sir," Sonny, the blond-haired bodyguard, replied at once and I almost shouted at the same time:

"What?!"