Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
NICO
“ H ow are things with Arria?” Lucy says, looking across the living room at me, her laptop screen reflected in her reading glasses.
I’m sitting in the living room, supposedly watching TV but actually counting down the seconds until it’s time to drive to dinner with Dominic. My nerves are making my gut tight, honestly. I could take it if it were just my life on the line, but it’s Lucy’s—my friend’s—life. And Arria’s, my… I don’t know.
“Huh?”
Lucy frowns at me. “That seems like an evasion. Something’s going on between you two, isn’t it?”
“We’re going in circles,” I groan. “I’ve got enough to worry about. I don’t need to have conversations like this as well.”
She sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just want you to be careful.”
“You kissed Giancarlo in her house, Lucy.”
Lucy takes off her glasses, cleans them, then replaces them slowly. It’s her way of buying herself a few seconds to register what I just said. Friends become good at reading each other. “You’re getting defensive.”
“I don’t want to talk about me and Arria,” I snap. “Tonight’s going to be complicated enough as it is without getting into that.”
“So, there is something to get into?”
“Just quit it, Lucy.”
I’m standing in the elevator, taking slow breaths, just like I used to before a job. When I meet with Dominic, I’m going to have to push the past few days out of my head. I’m going to have to pretend I’ve never tasted my niece’s lips, never fantasized about her, never gotten myself off or talked dirty with her. To avoid all that, I have to pretend I never felt a surge of pride and respect watching her with Destiny; I must ignore her maternal instinct that heats my blood. Every emotion she's awakened in me needs to be squashed so my cold side can navigate what comes next.
The elevator door opens. As expected, a mafioso is waiting for me. His name is Tony. His flat face perpetually wears an angry look. He doesn’t look happy to see me, which makes sense. He was one of the three men Dominic set on me that night—one man I handled with relative ease.
“Don Caruso wants you checked for weapons.”
“Seems severe,” I mutter. “I thought I was here as a friend.”
“Don’t be cute, Nico. You know he’s got to be careful.”
“There isn’t a war on.”
“There’s always a war on. It just depends on whether we can see it or not.”
“Fair enough, Tony.” I raise my hands. “Pat me down. I’d be an idiot to bring a weapon in here.”
The old Nico might’ve growled. I am the fucking weapon . But that arrogance left me when I left the life. It was never really me, anyway, more a defense mechanism to protect me from the cruel reality of what I had to do to survive, to help my parents, to keep Lucia safe.
He pats me down, then steps back with a nod. “I was hoping you’d have a weapon.” He pats his hip, no doubt where he’s packing.
“Those days are behind me.”
“They’ll never leave you, Nico. Leave none of us.”
I walk into the restaurant. Dominic is sitting alone at a table in the corner. The restaurant is dark except for the light above his head. He always had a flair for the theatrical, and this is an obvious example of that. The man probably thinks he’s being impressive, presenting himself like some twisted angel.
He’s a big man, round-faced, the signs of indulgent living are apparent in the blood capillaries breaking across his cheeks and neck. But underneath his worn expression, it’s like there’s a young wolf in there, always ready to come out. He doesn’t stand. Instead, he takes a long sip from his glass of wine, looks up at me, and takes another sip. Finally, he says, “Sit.”
I don’t like his tone very much, but I’m going to have to put up with a lot of crap this evening. I sit and place my hands in my lap, waiting for him to take the lead.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
I offer a smirk. “As hungry as you are, Don Caruso.”
“Don’t be a kiss-ass,” he snaps.
Ah, so the charm I used to use won’t work. I was pretty good at disarming him once. But clearly, it’s not that sort of dinner. “Yes, I’m hungry,” I tell him. “How could a man come to Lupa Osteria and not be hungry?”
“Order anything you want,” he says dismissively. “It’s a gift from the Caruso Family.”
“Please, Don Caruso, allow me to give you the gift of this meal.”
“Are you trying to insult my hospitality?”
I can’t win. “No, sir.”
“What’s with all the titles, all the respect? You used to call me Dominic.”
“That was before,” I say, shrugging. “But I can drop the?—”
“The what? The act? Is that what you were going to say? You’ll stop pretending? Is that it?” With each question, his face grows even redder.
“I was going to say ‘the formalities,’” I tell him.
It might not seem like it to an outside observer, but this is one of the most dangerous experiences of my life, including my time as an enforcer. One misspoken word, one moment of disrespect, and he’ll call his men in here and have me executed. Lucy won’t know what happened. Arria won’t know. Somehow, the thought of never seeing Aria again hurts more than never seeing my best friend, my so-called wife.
“Steak, bloody?” he says, somehow making it a demand.
“That sounds good to me… Dominic.”
I wait for the bait-and-switch, for him to demand that I speak to him with some respect. But it doesn’t come. He claps his hands together loudly. A terrified-looking waiter immediately opens a door hidden in the darkness and runs over to the table. “Yes, Don Caruso?”
“Bring me the special item,” he says.
“That’s a funny name for a steak.” I try to make it sound like a joke, but Dominic isn’t smiling. I know that look well—he’s about to play some twisted trick. It’s the same look he got before he arranged the fight between me and his men. Whatever this is, the bastard’s going to enjoy it.
“Hmm, funny,” Dominic says. “Do you know what’s funny to me, my old friend? I went my entire life never caring about a woman. Enzo’s mother, as you know, was a relationship of convenience—a relationship which ended when she disappeared to Europe, doing her runaway job so effectively that even I couldn’t find her. She left, and then I found another. I saw Lucia dominating the room with her eye for art, knowing exactly how to orchestrate her artists, her patrons, her world. I fell in love, Nico. I suppose it surprised you. I suppose you thought I was a monster.”
He is a monster. That’s why Lucy came to me and begged for my help.
Instead of food, the waiter brings out a large box. My gut tightens. Fuck. It’s a lie detector test. A small man with wire-framed glasses follows, looking at the floor. Another waiter appears and clears the table, while the first places the big box down. The man with the wire-framed glasses pulls up a chair.
“This is Hugo,” Dominic says. “He’s going to administer a little test.”
“What’s this about?” I growl. “All these years, and now you’re playing games with me? I paid my debt, Dominic.”
“This is about truth, my dear friend. Enzo noticed something between you and your niece. You’ve always been so cold, so collected, so in control, just like I was. But when he made some flippant comment about her , you changed. He said you were like an animal protecting what’s his. It was rather shocking. It seemed your change was like mine.”
The small man moves to take my hand and strap the lie detector gear onto my finger. I move away. He looks at Dominic.
“Are you going to make this difficult?” Dominic snarls.
“These machines are bullshit,” I snap. “They can’t detect lies. They can show heightened states, spikes in adrenaline. I’ve been out of the life for a long time. Of course I’m going to have a goddamn spike in adrenaline right now. This won’t prove anything.”
“We’re doing the test,” Dominic says flatly. “Let Hugo set it up. Or I’ll assume the answers are already what I expect them to be.”
I swallow. What choice do I have? Fuck. This is terrible. I can’t figure a way out of this without causing problems—bloodshed. Is he going to hurt Arria? Is he going to claim Lucy after all these years?
Reluctantly, I let Hugo strap the mechanism to my hand, then he puts some suckers on my chest.
“Really,” I tell Dominic. “These aren’t even admissible in court.”
“Does it look like we’re in court?”
Hugo leans back. My mind fills with ugly thoughts, real murderous shit, memories of killing people, visions of Arria getting hurt. I can’t stay calm, can’t psychopathically cheat the machine. But I can make myself so amped up that none of this is useful.
“Is your name Nico Barberi?” Hugo asks me in a small, reedy voice.
“Yes,” I say. The needles go tsk-tsk , moving up and down.
“What does that mean?” Dominic snaps.
“I’m trying to establish a baseline,” Hugo says. “Did you work as an enforcer for Dominic Caruso?”
“Yes,” I answer, knowing I’ve got no other choice. Dominic might have men waiting outside Arria’s house. Is he going to take this out on her? I imagine her in a genuinely depraved situation, something so sick I can barely acknowledge it. But I have to.
The needle dances even more. Hugo frowns. Maybe it’s working.
“He was an enforcer for me,” Dominic says. “Why is it moving like that?”
“He’s nervous,” Hugo mutters.
Dominic narrows his eyes at me. “Stop the fucking games, Barberi.”
“I can’t help it.”
“I’ve seen you take on three men and remain completely calm.”
“That was before I left the life behind. It’s duh-different now.” I have to make my panic believable.
“Are we sitting in Lupa Osteria?”
I imagine both Arria and Lucia in a sickening pattern of bloodshed. I see them as corpses. It’s horrible. I think of all the pro bono cases I’ve worked on, the kids, in the same way. It’s evil. My heart is hammering now. Sweat slides down my body.
“Yes,” I say, but the needle dances even more.
Dominic slams his hand on the table. “Enough!” he roars. “I want the truth, Nico. Are you in a relationship with your niece? Were you ever in a relationship with Lucia? Did you steal her from me? ”
He stands up, slamming his fists on the table, his eyes wild, spit clinging to his lips. He looks insane. Despite his pitiful appearance, I can’t pity him because he might shoot me at any moment.
“She’s my wife,” I say, making my voice tremble, not even having to try very hard anymore. If I thought fighting back was an option, maybe I wouldn’t be so panicked. But I know I can’t do that. It’d only make things worse. “Our relationship is genuine. I can’t force myself to calm down. I’m not the Barbarian anymore.”
“You’re cheating the fucking test,” Dominic growls.
“No, Don Caruso. I’m telling you the truth.”
He reaches into his jacket, takes out a gun, and aims it at my head. “What do you think would happen if I pulled the trigger?”
“I’d die.”
“After,” he hisses. “What do you think the consequences would be?”
“Nothing—nobody would know I was dead. I’d go missing. My body would never be found.”
“So what’s stopping me?” he growls.
“You’re a man of your word. We had a deal.”
“Decency?” he snaps.
“Not decency. If word gets out that Don Caruso goes back on his word, it would be bad for business. That’s what this is all about, after all. Business.”
The barrel of the gun wavers. The needle squeaks and hisses as it scratches the paper as if it’s going to set it on fire. Finally, Dominic puts the gun away. “Get out of my fucking sight. You make me sick. I know you’re lying. I’m going to prove it. And when I do, you’ll give me my Lucia back. Go— now .”
I practically run from the room, my heart pounding. But it’s not my life I fear for. It’s hers . Not my wife—my niece. It’s Arria. There’s no telling what Dominic is going to do now.