The Truth Hurts: Part Two: The Twisted Betrayal Duet

Chapter 41

Asick feeling churns through my stomach, my entire body feeling like I’ve just been hit by a semi-truck. I groan as agony ripples through me. My chest feels like it’s on fire and the pounding in my head feels like I’ve gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson and lost every single time.

The last thing I remember is the explosion, the one that took out my building and sent me flying to the ground. Before that, we’d all stepped out as Enzo went rushing across the street to the exploded SUV. After that… it’s all a blur… or more like darkness because I vaguely remember the ringing in my ears as I staggered upright, only to fall back to my knees.

The ringing drones in my ears and my eyelids flutter open. Bright lights assault my eyes and the strange smell of unfamiliarity invades my senses. It’s not a bad smell, but it’s not something I’m comfortable with and it’s certainly not a clinical hospital smell I’d expect.

Relief doesn’t wash over me like it should at the feeling of being alive. Instead, I’m filled with dread, an anxious heat crawling up my spine as I turn my head and come face to face with the last person I expected to see.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” his deep voice drawls.

Venom shoots through my veins, but as I try to push up from my position on the… I look around me. A couch? Panic chases through me, my heart rate elevating and palms growing sweaty. I clutch my ribs, my head swimming so hard I feel nauseous.

“Take it easy,” Nico releases a deep chuckle, filled with light humor. “You took a nasty hit.”

My eyes land on Nico Rocco. He’s wearing a black button down and matching slacks. His muscles bunch and flex, the shirt tightening over his unmistakable broad chest. With his brown hair brushed back, he eyes me warily. He’s not a bad looking guy by any means. Nico has that typical Mediterranean skin like me, brown eyes that could stare deep into your soul if you let him. He’s a strong man, a smart man. A man who holds all the power right now.

My blood crawls with fear of the unknown. “What did you do to me?”

“Me?” Nico sits back in the armchair across from me sighing as he crosses his ankle over his knee. He looks far too relaxed for someone who’s just kidnapped their leader. Too calm, too collected.

“Nothing.” His lips kick up in a smirk that looks unmistakably familiar. I’ve met Nico enough times to know that he doesn’t do anything without reason. But the fact he’s denying this fills me with unease.

“My bar,” I stutter as flashbacks hit my brain at full force, causing me to groan. “My father.” My voice cracks under the weight of my guilt and fear. Guilt, because the target on my back caused my father to get hurt. Fear, because right now I feel so alone, despite the company I’m keeping.

“It was someone else, Sera.” Nico shakes his head, his eyes alight with amusement and knowledge that I wish he’d hurry up and share with me because if it wasn’t him, who was it?

“I saw you. You were there tonight.”

Nico sighs, not even attempting to deny my accusation. I know what I saw, he was standing talking with Enzo. I don’t really know how to unpack that thought because he didn’t even seem too surprised to see Enzo there, which suggests he also knew about Enzo being very much alive.

“So my presence means I’m the culprit? I thought you were smarter than that.”

Pain suddenly lances through my head, like a warning that I’m thinking too much. Grabbing my head, I hiss out when my fingers touch something warm and sticky. That would explain the throbbing that hasn’t disappeared since I woke up.

Standing, Nico sighs and walks to the other side of the room to pick up a small first aid kit. Instead of handing it to me, he takes his seat opposite me and starts unpacking items from it.

A phone rings out on the table beside the kit, Nico freezing as he glances at it. His face morphs into the last thing I expected. A smile. The satisfaction on his face doesn’t leave as he slides the phone towards me. “It’s for you.”

My gaze slides to the screen, my breath catching with relief when I see the name flashing up. Without hesitation, I slide the button to answer the call. “Enzo,” I croak.

“Fuck, Sera! Where are you? Are you okay?” He pummels me with questions, not even waiting for me to answer them. “Sera? Sera!”

“Yeah…” I look down at my torn dress, the cuts and dirt decorating my arms and legs, my bruised bare feet. I’m almost certain I look in a state of disarray, no doubt proof of the way my night turned out. All of this was for Greco, to catch his attention. But we fucked up massively, and I’m struggling to comprehend how.

Glancing at Nico, I second guess how I’m going to answer Enzo’s question. Physically, I hurt. But other than that, Nico has made no attempt to harm me. If anything, he’s probably saved my life. That’s not a conclusion I’m jumping at too quickly, but I’m not stupid enough to think that if I wasn’t here, I might very well be dead. “I think so,” I breathe out.

“Where are you? Are you safe?” More questions.

“I’m…” My gaze lands on Nico warily, who’s pulling fresh gauze out of the first aid box. “I’m okay.” For now. “My father?”

“On his way to hospital. Where are you?”

That’s the problem. I don’t know exactly where I am. I could be anywhere right now, alone with Nico Rocco, who has done nothing to support me in my vendetta to avenge Enzo. Which hits a little different since seeing them so cozied up at my birthday party. I make a mental note that if—when—I get out of here, Enzo and I will be having words about their little interaction.

Since my silence has caused Enzo to start screaming down the phone, Nico takes it from me, hitting the speakerphone icon. “She’s with me, LaRosa,” he says calmly.

“I swear to god if you’ve touched a single fucking hair on her head—”

“Chill out, LaRosa.” Nico’s dark gaze locks with mine. There’s no animosity swimming in them, though, but the way he looks at me tells me all I need to know. “She’s safe.”

“You better fucking make sure she is.”

“I’ll stop you there, Enzo. I can promise you that no harm will come to your girl, there’s no need for threats.”

My blood fizzles with something close to pride and lust at the mention of being Enzo’s. Despite the dynamic, his words are true. I am his. I’m Luca’s, I’m Levi’s. I’m theirs.

“We’re just having a much needed conversation,” Nico continues. “Come on over, it’s about time we cleared the air.”

“Nico,” Enzo warns.

He just chuckles in response, a wicked laugh that leaves nothing to the imagination. “I’m just kidding. I’ll see you soon.” Nico hangs up and places the phone on the table, then without a word, he picks up the gauze and leans forward, gesturing to my forehead. “May I?”

I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t have some skepticism over Nico’s actions. It feels all too coincidental that Nico happened to be there tonight when shit was hitting the fan. While he denied being behind the attack, he’s not completely off my shit list. It’s important I keep my wits about me, at least until Enzo gets here.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you, Sera.” Nico nudges forward a little closer, his fingers gently brushing the hair away from my face. There’s nothing sexual or intimate in the action, and for some strange reason, it puts me at ease a little bit. I’m not bound, I’m not exactly being held against my will. So what do I have to be afraid of?

Taking a deep breath, I nod for him to continue. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen when he’s cleaning my wound?

With ease, Nico cleans up the blood from my face like it’s second nature. I suppose in our line of work it is, but that doesn’t mean he should be offering that service to me. I might be his leader, but he’s shown little effort to support my position until now.

“So are you going to tell me why I’m here?” I ask when he scrunches up the seventh wipe and deposits it on the table. “Why my bar was blown up and I magically ended up here?”

“I’m no magician, Sera.” He keeps his eyes trained on my wound, using my hand to put pressure on the gauze he placed there so he can tape it down. “But I do have the answers to who’s behind the attack. As for how you got here, Enzo and your bodyguard were otherwise occupied. Stupid mistake on their part, but I’m sure you’ll rectify that.” I don’t miss the disapproval in his disgruntled tone. “And poor Marchese and Fontana.”

A chill sets over me, guilt wrapping around my throat. I never thought to ask how everyone else was, and that’s an error on my part I know I’ll regret.

Nico must notice my reaction to his words, because he smiles. “Don’t worry, Sera. They’re fine.”

“So you felt the need to kidnap me?” I wince when I try to raise my brow at him.

He laughs, shaking his head like I just made the joke of the century. “By all means, if you want to leave, I’m not stopping you.” He gestures to the door, and in a split second I make the decision to leave. He’s right; he’s not holding me against my will, but things aren’t adding up and that leaves me speculating why I’m even here. He’s not been tasked with protecting me, so what the fuck is his deal?

Because my stubbornness gets the better of me, I stand up and make my way to the door. I instantly regret my decision as soon as I take my first step. My head spins, vision blurring. Defiance takes me a step closer to my exit, but I don’t get much further.

“Word has it you killed Verdi.”

His statement stops me in my tracks. A cold sweat ripples down my spine, and I swallow past the dry lump in my throat. Verdi’s death only happened days ago. There’s no way he should have that information. Fear spins me around, until I lock eyes with Nico. “I don’t—”

His chuckle fills the room, deep and filled with amusement. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“At what cost?” I scoff. Everything comes at a cost.

“You have me all wrong, Serafina.”

Dismissing the friendly demeanor, I take a step towards him. He’s not using my title, which means he’s either pushing his luck or really has no respect for me at all. Both infuriate me to the point my fists bunch up at my sides.

“Do I?” I ask through gritted teeth. “Because the last I remember, I had a target on my back and you refused to help me.”

“My father had his reasons,” Nico replies sourly, clearly not expanding on the details, but obviously not happy with them either.

“Then maybe I should be speaking to him.”

“By all means, I’ll send you his location. Although, I don’t think you’ll get much out of him.”

My blood runs cold, his words spearing uncertainty over my safety.

“In fact, I doubt there’s much of him left.”

I freeze. Every bone in my body screams with agony, yet it’s telling me to run.

“Weren’t expecting that, huh?”

My eyes follow him as he stands up and heads to the drink cart on the other side of the room. With his back to me, he goes about pouring himself a glass. “Guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me and the family. Our family’s traditions were… outdated. My father’s need to marry his way up the ranks was…” He turns around to look at me, offering me a lopsided smile as he thinks on words. He doesn’t continue that train of thought, though, he just finishes making our drinks with a soft clink of ice. “I can assure you his greed for power isn’t something that was passed down to me. I’m happy in my position, extremely happy.”

Nico heads back towards me, gesturing back to the couch I was previously situated on. Cautiously, I guide myself down onto the soft cushions, taking the drink he offers me.

“That”s why I had to take him out. He was never going to accept you or… how did you put it? La Cosa Nuova?” I shiver at the reminder of those words. “It’s time things changed, don’t you think?”

Those were the same words I used at my inauguration, the day all this shit started. The same day I lost a friend and gained an enemy.

Frowning, I take a sip of the amber liquid, relishing the burn that travels down my throat. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because the old ways are just that. The businesses these old men run are barbaric, idiotic if I’m honest. The flesh trade is a dangerous and despicable way to fund this organization, and I for one, think it’s time we did something about that.”

I sense that there’s a lot more to his words than he’s letting on, a lot more personal experience I don’t think I want to entertain. Whatever his dealings with the flesh trade have been, it’s not something he enjoys or is proud of.

“You’ve been working with Greco, with the Verdis. You’ve been funding their business.”

“Hmm…” Nico tilts head in thought, taking a large gulp of whiskey. “Yes and no.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes at that contradictory response. But I’m not surprised; nothing is ever that clean cut when it comes to this organization.

Swirling the drink in my glass nervously, I watch Nico finish his with ease. He doesn’t offer me another, nor does he go make one for himself. He just sits and stares at me, pondering what I believe to be his next move. When he finally decides, his actions surprise me.

He stands, holding his hand out to me as he places his glass on the table between us. “Come with me.”

“Where?” I stare at his hand like it might burn me if I touch it.

“It’s a surprise,” he shrugs.

“I don’t like surprises.” The bitterness in my tone leaves little to wonder why that would be and it wouldn’t take a scientist to realize why.

“Fine,” he smiles, not the slightest perturbed by my retort. “Call it a peace offering.” He gestures with his hand again. I suppose it’s pointless me fighting him on this. Since he’s not so much as laid a finger on me—that wasn’t in the way of patching me up—he leaves me no reason to doubt his sincerity.

With a long exhale, I place my hand tentatively in his. He helps me up and guides me towards the door, holding it open for me like the perfect gentleman. Though the Rocco family are known to be anything but chivalrous, Nico’s words stick in my head. He killed his father because of greed? Because he wanted more power? Nothing seems to add up, but the lack of remorse in Nico’s features as he admitted what he’d done tells me there’s more to it.

It’s a short walk from the room Nico had me in to where he wants us to go. After we’ve navigated a few rooms, we stop at what I can only assume is a garage, or maybe it’s a basement. Either way, the sudden ripple of doubt has me pausing.

That is, until Nico places a blanket over my shoulders. “It’s cold down there,” he answers my silent question, then hands me my shoes. “What’s a leader without the right pair of shoes, right?” He winks.

My intrigue is officially piqued, because if he was going to kill me, why go through the effort of keeping me warm and offering me shoes? Skeptically, I take them from him and slip my sore feet into them.

He places a hand on my lower back, then pulls the door open for me. Helping me down the stairs to what is now obviously a garage, filled with various cars and motorbikes, he guides me to the far corner that hosts a single metal door. Nico was right about the temperature, there’s a definite chill in the air that comes with either being below ground, or through air conditioning units. Judging by the smug look on Nico’s face as we walk down a short corridor, I’d say the latter is very possible.

We stop outside another metal door, this one protected by two guards who tip their heads at me in acknowledgement, muttering my name in greeting. Seemingly, the respect isn’t lost on them, which only makes me wonder what Nico is up to.

My question is answered a second later when he pushes open the door.

The stench of piss and sweat hits my nostrils with a refound strength. I’m suddenly thankful for the blanket provided because I have to cover my face to protect myself from the smell emanating from the two men in front of us.

“Wake up!” Nico barks at Don Greco, who’s strapped to a chair in one corner, though it doesn’t look the least bit comfortable judging by the way his body is slumped and restrained. He’s got a black eye and a broken nose, and a whole lot of blood staining his once crisp, white shirt. He doesn’t wake up, though.

To the right, his son hangs by his feet from a chain linked to the ceiling. My gaze drifts over the room leisurely, quietly, methodically, taking in what I now understand to be a human-sized refrigerator. And when I say human-sized, I mean one specifically designed to hold… humans.

“How… why…. Wh?” My thoughts interrupt one another until I’m unable to actually form the question I want to ask.

Greco’s son, Tomas, looks like he’s seen better days. He has what looks to be a bullet wound in his stomach and a nasty gash across his cheek. But what catches my attention the most is the hook embedded in his leg, the same hook holding him in place from the ceiling.

“It seems we’re much more similar in our methods than you thought.” Nico heads towards a clinical metal table to the side of us, his fingers dancing over the various knives. In an instant, he reminds me of Enzo, the way his eyes light up when he’s choosing his weapon of choice. I don’t miss the fire in his eyes when he turns back around, twisting the knife between his fingers like some circus talent.

“Nico, what’s going on?” My eyes dart between the two men. Though I should feel sorry for them, the darker parts of my soul know that this is how it was always going to end for these two. Since Verdi pretty much gave up their involvement in an instant, he effectively transferred the target onto their backs. They hold the information I need, and I don’t care what Nico knows about this, I’m just grateful I’m one step closer to finding Gabriella.

“I found one of their soldiers planting explosives near Haze,” Nico explains, running the knife over the stomach of a whimpering Tomas. He swings back and forth as he starts to thrash against Nico’s blade, but he’s gagged and bound, there’s no way he’s escaping the inevitable. “I figured you might want some one on one time with them.”

“How? How did you find them?”

Suddenly, I realize how redundant my question is. Of course he would know how to find Greco if they were working together. “Is that why you were trading with them?” I hazard a guess. “Because you want to take them out?”

Nico circles Tomas like prey, eventually coming to stand beside me like it’s where he belongs. “I want to take them down for what they’ve done. For what they’re doing. What better way to take them down than from the inside?”

Slowly, the pieces are slotting together. Though I don’t know the full extent of Nico’s motives, I sense he knows why Greco is important to me. It’s probably the reason he’s kept them alive, so that I can get the information I need.

Tomas lets out a loud groan as blood trickles down his face and into the drain below his head. I have to say, I’m definitely impressed with the set up and I’m taking mental notes. Everything is clean, hygienic, which is more than any captive deserves.

Nico gives the hanging body a swift kick in the face, Tomas’s groans going cold. “Human Trafficking,” Nico tuts. “It’s a disgusting line of business that should have been wiped out a lot sooner.” He turns to me, sliding the handle of the knife into my hands.

My fingers wrap around the hilt without hesitation, anticipation burning through my bloodstream.

“I figured you’d have some questions for these two? Want to do the honors?”