Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
NICO
W e’ve been at this for hours and somehow he’s managed to withstand most of what we’ve thrown at him. Well, he’s still breathing at least, although he’s a few fingers down at this point.
He’s given us some semi-useful information about the leaders of the gangs Max has been recruiting. There must be a logic to why some gangs are being absorbed into the De Luca organisation while others are being ignored. We’re sure as shit going to need to look into the latest gang to join his ranks—The Knights. Word is that they're financed largely by human trafficking and like fuck do we want that being ramped up in our backyard.
As nice as this is to know, it’s disappointing how little information on Max he has. For someone who considered himself so important, Manny’s next to fucking useless.
And now he’s about to die.
Aurora sent Sinclair and Benny back to the house after they’d both had some time to work out their frustrations on Manny. It won’t take four of us to finish him off, and Sinclair was eager to start fact-checking what Manny had already given us.
That leaves Aurora and I alone to push him as far as we can. She’s drifted back to the table I set up. There’s a part of me hoping she picks a couple of the wild cards I brought with me. I’ve no idea if they’ll pique her interest, but if they do, I will love seeing how she’ll use them. It’s exquisite to watch her work.
Aurora slinks towards him like a jaguar stalking its prey. Whatever she picked up was small. I can’t see what she’s palmed behind her back, but based on the darkness of her eyes and the malevolent grin on her face, it has something to do with the hammer in her back pocket. Manny’s about to be in a world of hurt.
He can barely stand and every time his strength wanes, he chokes on the chain around his neck. We’ve long since bound his arms to his chest with barbed wire leaving his torso littered with weeping, jagged cuts. I thought it was fitting to have him experience a fraction of what Aurora and Enzo were subjected to. Whatever we do to him will never be enough to balance the scales of his betrayal, but at least I can have fun in the process.
Reaching into her back pocket, she takes out the claw hammer and starts to roll it in her hand, flipping it from claw to face, like she’s trying to decide which part will hurt him the most.
Claw. Face. Claw. Face.
Manny starts snorting through his broken nose. The sound is ragged and strained. The break in his nose has long since clotted, but the more harsh his breathing becomes, the more blood trickles out of his flared nostrils.
“You can stop with the theatrics, little girl. I already told you everything I know,” he snaps, attempting to mask his fear and failing miserably. His eyes widen when Aurora shows him what she’s been holding in her other hand. It’s a small, clear box filled with two-inch long nails.
“There’s no need for name calling, Manny. Besides, we’re past the information gathering stage of this little chat,” she says and then glances my way. “Would you mind holding him steady for me please, Nico? This isn’t going to work if he wriggles.”
It’s difficult not to smile at his throat bobbing as he swallows nervously. “Of course, phoenix.”
I push off from my perch on the pick-up’s tailgate and saunter in his direction. As I get close to him, the snorting gets more laboured, and he winces when he tries to sneer at me. Once I’m almost toe to toe with him, I reach out and wrap my hands around his jowly neck, under the chain. I’m careful to stand clear enough away that the barbed wire won’t catch me when he flinches.
“Get your filthy fucking hands off me,” Manny sneers, only prompting me to squeeze hard enough to make speech impossible.
“Whenever you’re ready, boss,” I say, nodding to Aurora, who’s now standing at Manny’s back.
She fiddles with something and I lean around Manny to see what she’s up to. She’s pocketed the hammer again so she can take out some nails from the little box and hold them between her teeth. I arch a brow at her quizzically.
“Not enough hands,” she mumbles. I’m baffled until she shoves the box in the back pocket and takes a single nail from between her teeth, bringing it to Manny’s back, scratching around with the pointy end trying to pick a spot she likes. “Hold him tight, this is going to hurt. ”
Settling on a fleshy part between his neck and shoulder, she steadies the nail and presses it hard into the muscle. Then she retrieves the hammer and raises it high and with no preamble or warning, she whacks the head of the nail with two brutal and effective swings. The first to make sure it’s deep enough to stand on its own and the second to push it as far as it will go.
Manny screams, trying to escape her hammering, but the choke chain stops him ducking and I stop any lateral movement. He tries to twist his spine but he can’t get purchase on the balls of his feet to find enough give to escape the hammer. There’s nothing he can do, and every twitch and turn only causes the nail embedded in his flesh to hurt more if the pained expression on his face is anything to go by.
Aurora doesn’t stop. She continues with a relentless rhythm of agony. She pulls out a nail, finds a spot, hammers once, hammers twice, Manny screams—repeat. To begin with, she chooses fleshier parts, but slowly she moves on, tap-tapping the nails between his ribs, creating an abstract pointillist painting on her canvas. She pauses while she considers her next location and I can’t help but release my grip, eager to appreciate her masterpiece.
My breath catches when I see the streaks of red oozing from the pinholes across Manny’s back. They’ve merged to cover his skin in a sheen of blood and sweat. Some of the nail heads sit flat to his skin and have been concealed by the fluid that oozes from the wounds, but others sit a little proud and shine like little silver stars on a blanket of crimson.
“Stunning,” I say. The words leave my lips without thinking, but they're no less true. Aurora’s flare for creative torture has always awed me. A lot of the standard torture practices rely on brute strength, but she has a knack for delivering maximum pain with minimum effort. It’s fucking smart. It turns me the fuck on to see how her intelligence and brutality combine to summon this powerful and ruthless creature before me.
This is a side of Aurora that others don’t get to see. Our. Brutal. Queen.
I’m overwhelmed with desire and seize her by the back of the neck, dragging her to me so I can lean down and steal a savage kiss. I pour myself into our connection, worshipping her with ragged breaths and hard lips that demand a response just as wild. Our tongues clash and she escalates with eager little bites at my bottom lip.
I push her away from me before I get carried away. I’d love nothing more than to fuck her in the blood of our enemies, but not while said enemy is still breathing. It takes a few moments for me to regulate myself—for my heart to stop pounding in my chest and the pulse in my dick to stop hammering.
When I return to face Manny again, I can finally see the toll of the last few hours etched on his features. His bravado has slipped, his skin is an ashy grey pallor with beads of sweat streaking from his hairline and burying themselves in his bushy eyebrows.
Aurora starts up again, the thwack of the hammer against the nail echoing off the walls and punctuated by Manny’s pained grunts. I don’t even need to hold him anymore; he has so little left in him. His head flops forward and I hook a finger under his chin and force him to look me in the eye.
“You don’t have much longer, old man. You sure there’s nothing else you want to get off your chest,” I check.
“Fuck you, bastard scum.”
“Oh, now, don’t be vulgar, Manny. There’s still a lot I could do with you. Maybe keep you around as my personal pin cushion. Use you as a permanent stress ball till I can get my hands on my darling husband,” Aurora teases, not once stopping her hammering.
She must hit something more vital, because as the hammer strikes its target, his legs give out and his full weight falls, yanking down hard on the chain, cutting off his air supply. The raspy breaths cease and his pale skin reddens before turning a purple hue.
“Oopsie, guess I should have steered clear of your spine. It seems I’ve struck a nerve,” Aurora whispers in his ear, with quiet menace.
“What do you want me to do, phoenix? Are you done with him, or do you have anything else to say to him?” I ask.
“Lift him. See if he has anything left in him,” she replies.
I jog back to the table and pick up the wire cutters. I make quick work of the barbed wire and let it fall to the ground. Standing at his back I hoist him up, letting him heave in one of his last breaths.
Aurora stands proud in front of him, one hand on her hip and the other swinging the claw hammer gently, letting the weight of it tap against her knee. “Any last words, Manny?”
Manny is a dead weight at this point, one I can feel the life slipping out of with each rasping splutter. That doesn’t deter him from opening his mouth and trying to spew his venom one last time.
“You… you’ll be the end of the Bianchis. You’re a worthless whore. For a woman who’s so adamant she wants to destroy the De Lucas, it’s ironic that you’re fucking one.” Manny forces out the words with a vicious smile, before slumping further in my hold.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I bite out, jostling him in my arms to stop him from losing consciousness.
“You don’t look much like your father, but you have the same colour hair as your brother.” A sinister chuckle gurgles in his chest, but it only causes him to choke on the blood that’s pooling in his lungs. I can’t see it, but can feel it against my forearms where his head hangs and it dribbles from his lips.
Aurora wrenches his head back up by his hair. “What did you say?”
“You fucking heard me. Nico is the bastard son of Salvatore De Luca.”
“You’re fucking lying,” I scream, “My mother was?—”
“A foot soldier's daughter, raped and left on Mateo’s doorstep as a message to the Bianchis,” Manny sneers with a manic tone in his voice. “You thought you were free of the De Lucas? It seems no matter what you do, you’ll always be a De Luca’s whore.” He tries to laugh in Aurora’s face but chokes instead, forcing him into a long hacking cough.
I’m speechless. If what he’s saying is true, then I really am a monster. Spawned from our enemy and brother to someone who has caused unimaginable pain to the people I love. Who else knew this and didn’t tell me? Mateo knew. Manny knew. Who else?
I was told my mother died in childbirth and I was raised by distant relatives. I always knew I was a bastard. The family that raised me made it abundantly clear how much of a burden I was, but I thought it was a simple case of teen pregnancy in a catholic family. As soon as I turned sixteen, I left home and never looked back. What was the point of staying somewhere I wasn’t wanted? I swallow hard, remembering the years of being raised by people who went out of their way to ensure I knew how worthless I was.
Now’s not the time to be losing myself to a slew of memories. If this is true, there’s no fucking point asking Manny anything else. He’s only revealing this now because he knows he’s running out of time, and any words that pass his lips will either be lies, or worse, truths he’ll frame in the worst possible way to derail our plans and cause the most damage.
Aurora’s gaze captures mine and I feel like an entire conversation flows between us. The way her brow furrows and her eyes soften tells me that she wants to reassure me. There’s no part of her that fears or despises me. Manny’s words don’t affect her—they don’t change how she feels about me. It takes me aback. Of all the things I expected to see reflected back at me, understanding wasn’t one of them.
Aurora tilts her head towards Manny, and I see it for what it is. She wants my permission… and I gladly give it, nodding back at her slowly.
Manny is too preoccupied, struggling to steal a breath through his macabre cackling to notice her arm drawing back. She’s so quick I don’t see the hammer as it arcs towards his temple, but I hear the thud as it connects with his skull, and the sickening crack as the claw smashes through bone, embedding itself in his brain. The spray is unimpressive, but the result is instantaneous.
Manny Ferella is dead.
I let go of his body and the chain pulls taut against the rolls in his neck. His body rotates for a few seconds before the balls of his feet scrape on the concrete floor, stopping his momentum. I can’t help but stare. This is the least smug I’ve ever seen his face.
I don’t know how long I look, but suddenly I feel the warmth of Aurora’s touch. Her palms stroke down my face and she pulls me away from the body, turning my gaze towards hers. She’s teetering on her tiptoes to try and close our height difference, so I reach around her waist and pull her up into my arms. Aurora touches her forehead to mine, and I lose myself in the comfort of her closeness. Revel in the warmth of her breath feathering across my skin .
I walk her to the tailgate of the truck, away from the corpse, and set her down. Before I can say a word, she places a finger over my mouth.
“You are Nicolo Verardi. No matter what, you will never be a De Luca to me,” she says firmly, dragging me down into a punishing kiss, one that demands everything from me. She’s claiming me.
Her hands ball into fists in the front of my shirt and she’s pulling me with her as she leans back into the flatbed of the pick-up. Breaking our kiss, I hop up onto the tailgate and stand, leaning down to grip her by the wrists and drag her further into the truck.
“The only thing I am is yours. Yours and Benny’s,” I growl, diving back down to her and covering her in the weight of me. “If I am a monster, then I’m yours to command. I would never hurt you, phoenix.” I dip my head and watch as she arches her back when my breath dances across the shell of her ear. “Unless you wanted me to.”
She moans at my words and just as I move my knee between her thighs to encourage them open, the loud chirping of her phone ringing interrupts us.
“Fuck,” I mutter, dropping my head to the floor beside her, while she giggles. She tries to push me off her so she can answer it, but I refuse to move.
“Come on, Nico. It could be important,” she whines playfully.
“You know I love it when you beg,” I reply, rolling off her.
“It’s Sin,” she says before answering the call.
“You know we can see you, right?” A tinnier version of Sinclair rings out from the speakerphone. “Etta has a secure feed streaming to the house right now. A feed that not only Enzo, Benny and myself are watching but also Stefano.”
Aurora blushes, and I start laughing. “Oopsie. ”
“Yeah, well. Etta just called. She’s done at the safe house, so I’ve sent her and her team your way since you seem to be all wrapped up there.”
“Thank you, Sin,” Aurora says. “We’ll head out as soon as they arrive. We’ll be home soon. Tell Stefano to stay until we get back. I want to talk to him about Manny’s information.”
“Yes, boss.” There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat. “You okay, Nico? That can’t have been easy to hear.”
“I’m good,” I reply, probably a little too quickly before adding, “but… I appreciate you looking out for me.”
She hangs up before he can say anything else and takes my hand in hers. She traces her index finger along the veins on the back of my hand before lacing her fingers between mine. “Are you okay?”
I take a long breath. I should be angry. I should be lost in a sea of confusion and rage. The old Nico would be smashing this place to pieces. Raging about the lies and the secrets and how yet again I’m the monster that everyone has always feared I am.
But I’m not. I’ve spent years being treated like an outcast by nearly everyone. Years being feared for my size, my anger, my violence. But that didn’t stop Mateo making sure there was a place for me. The more I think about it, the more I appreciate that Mateo always had my back, especially when he placed me in Enzo’s team. He always knew what I was, who I was. Yet he trusted me to turn it around and be loyal.
That means something.
I can’t wrap my head around everything. But knowing that Mateo had faith in me is enough right now.
“Yes, phoenix.” I stroke her jaw and her eyes flutter closed. “I woke up this morning the bastard son of a mafioso. Nothing has changed. What about you?”
She looks up and shrugs with a wistful sigh. “I woke up this morning with one goal—to kill Manny Ferella. I should feel some sense of achievement, but I don’t.”
“Manny’s death was inevitable. Now that he’s gone, we can focus on what really matters,” I say, my expression lifting and a smile taking a firm grip of my features.
“And that is?”
I lean in close till our lips are a millimetre apart. “Making you a widow, phoenix.”