Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
NICO
Regina fell asleep soon after her first lesson, and I spent the rest of the journey on my phone.
The fact that hers is tucked into my inner pocket is a fact I overlooked telling her.
When I placed it on charge, there were several texts flashing up from her friend, begging her to call her.
Trent cracked her password, and it amused me to read every one.
Call me honey. I have news about Prince Charming
Where are you Reggie, we need to talk?
Fuck, Reggie, I’m worried now. Pick up the phone.
Listen, honey, Aston discovered something bad, call me.
Fuck, Reggie, are you even alive right now?
Okay, honey, I’m just giving it to you straight. Nicholas Ravera is the fucking mafia! Run like hell.
I deleted every single message and missed call, but I’m guessing there are several more already waiting.
Regina doesn’t need to know the true nature of my business, and keeping her phone from her is stage one in that.
Three days with my family will be enough to let that particular cat out of the bag, but by then it will be impossible for her to leave.
My little bird will be firmly shut in her cage and will only be released when I have no further need for her.
To be honest, as I glance at her sleeping, a small smile makes a rare appearance.
She is slumped against the window, her mouth open and drool down one side, her breathing heavy and her hair wild and messy.
She is wearing a cream skirt and jacket with a diamond choker, a gift to remind my family exactly who she is.
She’s mine, the woman I will mold into the perfect fiancée and, if I must, the perfect wife.
She won’t question me, won’t answer back and will bend to my will, and what happened in the car was the first step in that.
Fucking her with my fingers is nothing compared to what’s happening next because she sleeps with me from now on.
I won’t let her out of my sight because, knowing my father, he will attempt to change her mind, and I will not let that happen.
Then there’s Desiree. She will be pissed that Regina is even here, and knowing she is in my bed will send that bitch feral.
I wouldn’t put anything past her because she’s a conniving woman who majored in Machiavellian, and Regina would freak out if she realized exactly what she’s walking into.
I must control her, and I’m fast realizing that the key to controlling Regina is through kindness and desire.
It’s obvious she wants me; hell, I’m even thinking along the same lines because despite the reason I chose her, she is probably the sexiest, most attractive woman I have ever met in my life, and that’s praise indeed.
She jerks awake the moment we turn onto the treelined drive that leads to my parent’s estate in the Hamptons. The gate was opened as soon as Trent called ahead, and as it closes behind the final car, I breathe a little easier. She is in the trap, and there is no way out of it.
“Are we there?”
Her voice is sleepy, and she looks adorable as she yawns loudly, her hand covering her mouth as she attempts to rearrange her disheveled clothing.
“Yes,” I state simply, and she gazes out of the window and gasps. “Oh my God, is that the ocean?”
On one side of us is the sparkling ocean, sweeping around the property from three sides. My family estate is almost an island, and as we turn the corner, the house rises majestically in front of us.
“Nico!”
Her shocked gasp echoes around the car. “This place is amazing.”
I am immune to its charms because what’s inside dulls the beauty of the place, and yet I can see why she is impressed.
The house is painted white and gleams in the sunshine.
It consists of several wings, and there are many outbuildings and cottages set in the vast grounds.
It’s not a home; it’s an experience, and I doubt it will be a good one.
“Look at the trees.”
She laughs with excitement as she regards the lit trees lining the driveway and the huge Christmas trees set on either side of the huge portico. The double front door holds the largest wreath, and it resembles a Christmas cozy movie.
My family demands the best, and this house is no exception. As the cars roll to a stop outside the door, it immediately swings open, and several guards spill out.
Trent is the first to reach them, and as they approach, I grip Regina’s hand in mine as she whispers nervously, “Wow, more security. Your family is really serious about their safety.”
“They are.”
I smile reassuringly, knowing that nothing will dull the shock she is about to experience when she gets up close and personal with a family like mine.
I help her out of the car, and Giuseppe, one of my father’s most loyal soldiers, smiles. “Good evening, Nico.”
“Giuseppe.” I nod, clasping Regina’s hand tightly as I pull her after me, her heels clattering on the marble floor as we head inside the overlarge hallway.
Regina is speechless as we enter a space that resembles the most luxurious hotel. The staircase is covered in a red carpet leading up to a galleried landing that circles the hallway. The biggest chandelier dominates the ceiling, glittering like a fallen star above us.
There is a huge, low glass table set on a Persian rug in the center, around which an elegant couch and two stylish chairs reside. A huge floral arrangement takes front and center, and as entrances go, this one is stunning.
“Look at the tree.” Her eyes widen at the majestic Christmas tree that is probably twenty feet tall, resplendent in fairy lights and gold, shimmering in pride of place. Its top graces the upper levels, and as statements go, this one could win awards.
She glances around. “Are we the only ones here?”
“No.” I add under my breath. “Unfortunately,” but she doesn’t hear me as she gazes around with fascination.
“My parents will be waiting to greet us in the living room. We may as well get this over with before we head to our room.”
She falters. “Our room?”
I take great satisfaction in fixing her with a firm glare. “Yes, Regina, our room. It is expected when two people love one another as much as we do.”
I fix her with a pointed glare, and she nods, swallowing hard. “Of course, um, well, our room.”
I give her no time to dwell on that and, grasping her hand, head to the living room to get this shit over with.
As we enter, the familiar sight of a room straight from the designer’s hall of fame greets us.
Like the entrance, this one is home to the biggest chandelier they could get away with, commanding the room from its great height, sparkling down on pure luxury.
The lighting is warm, illuminating the ivory paneling, cream couches dominating the room set around another huge neutral Persian rug.
The atmosphere is almost intimate, and yet staring at us with interest are the two people we must impress the most.
“Mother.” I approach her first and, dropping Regina’s hand, I respect my mother by kissing her on both cheeks, allowing her rather hesitant embrace as if she’s afraid I may break.
I do the same to my father and experience another violent slap on the back, and with a smile I reach for Regina’s hand.
“Allow me to introduce my fiancée, Regina Stone.”
She steps forward and smiles nervously and then surprises me by pulling my mother in for a hug, much the same as she did me, and kisses her several times on the cheeks, gushing, “I am so pleased to meet you. I must say you have a stunning home and well, I love what you did with that Christmas tree out in the hallway, stunning actually and if you don’t mind, I’d love to film it for my vlog. ”
“Regina.” My voice is low and controlling, and she steps back and giggles nervously as she registers the astonishment on my mother’s face.
“Please excuse me; I’m just so freaking nervous.”
She slaps her hand over her mouth. “Did I say that out loud? I’m so–”
“Regina, this is my father.”
I speak over her, and she turns to him and checks herself and this time offers him her hand. “Sir, I’m so pleased to meet you, especially at Christmas, which as we all know is about family after all and I well, I’m not there yet but, well, your son is a hard man to refuse and–”
All the time her words trip over themselves as if they’re running a sprint, she pumps his hand vigorously and the bemusement in his expression almost makes me laugh.
The fact that she’s even touching him at all is surprising because I’m not sure I have ever seen him shake the hand of a woman before.
My mother is staring at her as if she’s an alien, and I suppose she is in their world.
With a sigh, I rest my hand on Regina’s back and say softly, “It’s been a long drive; perhaps we should settle in first before conversation.”
My mother surprises me by shaking her head, amusement flickering in her eyes.
“I won’t hear of it. Regina must be desperate for refreshment. Come, I’ll show you to the kitchen where we can get to know one another over coffee, or champagne if you prefer.”
My mouth drops as my mother steers Regina from the room, and my father’s expression is almost comical.
He shakes his head and sinks low on the couch and fixes me with an incredulous frown.
“Are you serious?”
“Of course.”
I drop down into the seat opposite him, and he shakes his head.
“She’s easy on the eye, I admit that, and dressed impeccably, which I expect is down to you, but does she ever stop talking?”
“Of course.” My eyes twinkle. “When I have a better use for her mouth.”
My father chuckles softly and then adds, “Do not confuse attraction with marriage, Nico. Looks fade, personality not so fast. You will require a woman with nerves of steel and one who knows when to keep her mouth shut. This girl–”
“Regina.” I fix him with a hard stare.
“I have serious concerns.”
My heart sinks, but I’m not giving up yet.
“Then I will enjoy watching those concerns disappear over Christmas.”
He offers me a cigar, and as we light them, he blows smoke rings into the pristine room.
“And if they don’t, you will honor our agreement.”
“I never said that.”
I blow smoke rings into his, and he sighs. “Don’t be a fool, Nico. Would you seriously give up your birthright for that woman?”
“Regina.” I remind him and, leaning forward, stare him straight in the eye. “If you had the option all those years ago, father, would Gigi Constantine be wearing your wedding ring now?”
He says nothing, but the resignation in his eyes is my answer, and he scoffs, “That’s different.”
“Is it though?”
I inhale the smoke, regretting accepting the hated cigar. It’s customary for our father to share a cigar with his sons on Christmas, and as I can’t stand them, it’s a cross I am unwilling to bear.
He nods toward the drinks cabinet.
“Then we will toast your engagement with the customary bourbon and let fate decide if we are being presumptuous.”
As I stand, I reach over and grabbing the blade, I slice the end off the cigar, placing the rest in my pocket as I head to the drinks cabinet. This is going to be a long few days.