Hi guys, chapter 2 is here! I think I'll only be able to update during half term, which will be every six weeks or so at maximum. Thanks for being patient with me. :)

(Also, if anyone notices any typos or mistakes, feel free to mention them in a review and I'll fix it ASAP :D)

Enjoy!

Edit 31/10/13: Just realised I forgot to add the Italian translations! They're at the bottom now - sorry! ^^'

'Luciano, open this damned door! I don't understand why you keep it locked all the time.'

Voldo gave the door in question another hard shove with his shoulder, cursing.

'Ugh, will you keep it down?! Some of us need our beauty sleep,' came the irritated reply from within the bedroom, 'and it's not locked, brother – you are simply useless at opening doors. It is simply a little faulty, that's all!'

A moment later, Voldo succeeded in opening the door and strode in. Luciano's bedchamber was large and spacious, a utopia of cream and gold, with large windows flanking a dressing-table overlooking the town below and a huge armoire in one corner. A large, full-length mirror stood in the corner opposite, and a four-poster bed dominated the room, along with a bedside table either side of it. Underneath the thick covers Voldo saw the shapeless mass that was no doubt his elder brother trying to sleep.

'What do you want?' he groaned from underneath the duvet.

'What I want, Luciano, is your – ah – makeup,' Voldo smirked, making his way over to the dresser and searching it.

'Shut up,' came the muffled reply from under the covers, 'make up is for women. And what would you want with my products? It's rather unlike you to start caring about your appearance.'

Voldo drew back the curtains and threw the covers off his elder brother, to the latter's annoyance. Burying his head in the pillows, he swore at Voldo.

'Bastardo! Shut the curtains! Are you trying to piss me off, first thing in the morning?!'

'First thing in the morning?' Voldo replied incredulously, 'Luciano, I take this as being news to you: it is half past twelve. You've even outdone Francesco – and that's saying something. Is this really your precious 'beauty sleep', as you put it, or are you just so hung over that you've decided to waste half the day in bed? And anyway… your powder is not for me, but for Tore – or were you so oblivious to everything but Giulia last night that you failed to notice how our so-called 'father' humiliated him in front of the entire banquet hall?!'

There was a silence, and Voldo continued. 'Just as I suspected – too drunk to even remember last night. Why does that not surprise me?! Let me fill you in, then! While you were so busy groping your fiancée, father got drunk, came onto Flavio's wife, got into a fight with Flavio, lost the fight, and took his anger out on Tore in front of everyone – giving Tore a massive bruise in the process. But no, silly me, I can't have expected you to have remembered – you don't give a shit about Tore, do you? While the rest of you are too wrapped up in your own lives, it's only me who cares about him. And that has always been the case!'

At this, Luciano frantically clawed for something on his bedside table before grabbing a trinket and throwing it at Voldo, missing by a few feet.

'Just take what you need and get out of my sight, Voldo,' snarled Luciano, 'and – merda, look what you made me do!' The snarl turned into a wail.

Voldo turned around to see his elder brother inspecting his hand. Raising his head, Luciano bared his teeth. 'I broke a nail,' he growled slowly, his voice dangerously low, 'out.'

Voldo burst into peals of laughter at the shallowness of the statement. 'God, stop being such a divo, it's only a na-'

'OUT!' Luciano screeched, his blue eyes wide and furious.

Voldo grabbed the product from the dressing table and stalked out of the room, still laughing. Slamming the door on purpose to give his brother as much of a headache as possible, he headed downstairs to the red-and-gold-themed drawing room where Tore was sat, reading. At Voldo's appearance, the sixteen-year-old looked up and smiled nervously.

'I think I would have heard Luciano a mile off just then – what's upset him?'

Voldo held up Luciano's powder with a grin, and Tore's eyes widened.

'Did you take it without his permission? You know what he's like! He'll probably –'

'Calm down, Tore, I had his permission – not that it means much.'

Tore frowned. 'Then why was he screaming like a stuck pig?!'

Voldo giggled. 'Because – because – '

He pretended to inspect his nails in horror, his words coming out in a mock falsetto. 'I broke a nail!' he wailed, before laughing, 'mio Dio, è molto melodrammatico, no?'

Tore chuckled. 'Sì, infatti.'

'Anyway – let's get this on you,' Voldo said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. Squatting down so that he was level with Tore, he applied the powder quietly. Seeing the ugly purple mark made him fall silent, but he tried to keep a vague smile on his face all the while. After a few minutes he was done and he stood up, grinning.

'There. It's unnoticeable now.'

'Graz-'

'VOLDO!'

Voldo rolled his eyes at the interruption and turned his head towards the door through which Francesco came striding through, holding a sword in each hand. The middle Giordano was of medium height and strongly-built with short, dark hair and small, dark eyes and, upon seeing Voldo, tossed a sword in his direction, swaying on the spot a little.

'Spar with me.'

Voldo caught the sword and looked his elder brother up and down in disgust. 'Part of me was hoping you'd fatally injured yourself last night when fighting with great uncle Lorenzo, but apparently not. Are you even sober enough to start sparring again yet?'

'Who cares? I'll still beat you. Out in the courtyard, come on.'

'If you're so sure of your abilities, Francesco, then what is the point in fighting me?' asked Voldo in a bored tone, twirling the sword around in his fingers. Despite having fought with it many times, however, it had never felt… natural. 'Besides, I'm busy.'

'Busy? What, talking to this rat over here?' Francesco replied with a snort in Tore's direction, 'he's not worth your time. I need practice. Courtyard. Now.'

'No.'

Francesco glared at Voldo. 'Then I'll fight you in here, seeing as you're so stubborn!'

'Stubborn? Hah, I'm not the one demanding a battle, Francesco!'

'And if we break anything, I can simply blame it on one of you and father will believe me,' Francesco continued, his eyes glinting malevolently, 'ooh, that'll be entertaining, seeing him finish off last night's business with Tore here. Sì, I heard all about that…'

Voldo gritted his teeth, knowing Francesco was saying this deliberately to get to him.

All the same, it was working. 'One more word and you will regret it.'

'Hah! You threatening me? All for the sake of him over there?'

Voldo gripped the sword. 'Tore,' he muttered, 'out of here.'

Tore did not need telling twice. As soon as he left the room, Voldo lunged furiously at his elder brother, aiming for his chest. Francesco dodged but in doing so lost his balance and grabbed hold of the table to steady himself. The 'fight' was short-lived as Voldo knocked Francesco's weapon out of his hand and aimed a punch to his face before turning towards the door.

'Come back when you're sober,' he spat, 'you may be good with a sword but even I can beat you when you're still half-drunk.'

And with that, he exited the room, flinging his sword to the ground.

No sooner had he come through the doorway, however, than he almost walked into Aurelio who glared at him furiously. 'It seems as though you're trying to anger everyone in turn today, Voldo,' he said, disapprovingly, 'Luciano and father are both trying to sleep, have some respect!'

Voldo laughed. 'Ah, yes, respect, just like you have respect for Tore and I, you hypocrite,' he replied, his eyes flashing, 'you're turning more and more into father each day – before you know it, you'll have turned to drink as well, to make up for your inability to keep a relationship. The wine appears to have replaced women for father – it's only a matter of time before you go the same way. You've seen what a vicious, abusive man he has become. You're following in his footsteps, Aurelio. Shame.'

Aurelio's fists clenched. 'Shut up. You know nothing of the pain father went through when mother died; you're too young to remember.'

'I remember that you've all taken it out on Tore ever since!' he said angrily, 'it wasn't his fault! Where were you last night, when father hit him in front of everyone? I didn't see any of you come to his defence, or try to console him afterwards! You all enjoy seeing him humiliated, don't you? Or, rather, you all make out as though you do.'

'What is that supposed to mean?'

'Leave him, Aurelio, he likes talking shit,' came Francesco's voice from behind them, as he emerged from the drawing room. Voldo noticed with mild disappointment that he hadn't drawn blood. 'And that's rich, coming from you, Voldo! Voldo Felice Giordano, the saint of the family, the pacifist, the peacekeeper, hah! Funny how you disapprove of father using his fists when you quite happily used yours on me just now.'

'Father's actions last night were uncalled for,' Voldo replied, 'you, on the other hand, are just a prat who enjoys provoking everyone.'

'If we annoy you that much, Voldo, why don't you just move out?!' sighed Aurelio.

'Believe me, I'd love to, but then that would mean sitting back and watching the four of you tear Tore to shreds! The only reason I'm still here is for him!'

'You get involved too much, playing the role Salvatore's guard dog all the time! He is old enough to fight his own battles,' said Aurelio firmly.

Voldo's eyes narrowed.

'So what you're saying is, despite the fact that you all know how badly you treat Tore, you have no intention of stopping unless he learns to… man up and argue back? We all know how that's not going to happen overnight – you've been diminishing his confidence so much over the past sixteen years, there's hardly anything left of it!'

'Silence!' Aurelio screamed, his wild, dark eyes piercing Voldo's calm blue ones.

'And who are you to give me orders?' spat Voldo, 'you're only telling me to shut up because you know what I'm saying is true. Only you're too proud to admit it, aren't you, Aurelio?'

'You ought to know your place within this household, Voldo,' Aurelio replied, his voice shaking with anger.

'Yes, father,' Voldo replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, 'and you ought to shut up. You sound like an idiot.'

And with one last contemptuous look at his brothers, Voldo pushed past them and made his way angrily upstairs to his chambers, locking the door behind him.

His room had a purple-and-gold theme to it, with one large window that took up almost the entire wall. The bed dominated the centre of the room with an armoire in one corner and a writing desk and a chest of draws in the other. Crossing the room, Voldo opened the top draw and pulled out a dagger that was well-hidden among the objects in it. It was a fine object, given to him by Flavio a few years back for his birthday, with its ornate black hilt and gleaming silver blade. Yet Voldo had never used it until recently, when his mood had been as black as the hilt of the dagger.

He sat on his bed and stared at the dagger, twirling it around in his hands. How he wished he could use it on his brothers, particularly Aurelio.

Conceited, spiteful prat, he thought, and a flash of fury suddenly bolted through him.

Voldo rolled up his sleeve where the scars from last time awaited him.

No, he thought, you swore you wouldn't. Not again. Sibling rivalry is no excuse for this.

And yet it wasn't just 'sibling rivalry', was it? It was pure hatred that had boiled up over the past two decades.

But… perhaps he was getting in the way. Perhaps Aurelio was right and –

No. That would never be the case. Aurelio would never be right, and Aurelio would never stop terrorising Tore.

Along with father.

Yes… the two of them, the leader and the right-hand man. It was clear that Voldo's father favoured Aurelio, saw himself in him.

And oh, how Voldo hated it.

Hate. Hate. Hate.

The dagger was inches away from his skin now.

Just one cut. That's all. You know you enjoy the pain.

'No!'

Voldo stood up suddenly, flinging the dagger away to the ground. Pacing, he ran his hands through his hair and stared out the window to observe Aurelio and Francesco leaving the house, hearing the front door slam distantly. He narrowed his eyes at the hurriedness with which they seemed to be leaving, when –

'SALVATORE!'

Voldo flinched at the sound of his father's voice boom through the house. He walked quietly to the door, listening against it as loud footsteps thundered past. It was evident that Rosario Giordano had now woken from his slumber, but whether the alcohol was out of his system by now was debatable.

Voldo closed his eyes in a silent prayer which he knew would be useless.

Hopefully the beating wouldn't last too long this time.

Translations:

merda! - shit!

divo - male form of diva

mio Dio, è molto melodrammatico, no? - My God, he's so melodramatic, isn't he?

sì, infatti - yes, certainly

How was that? Events of the morning after :3 Expect the next update to be around Christmas. Reviews gladly accepted!