42
Mia
The engine roars to life as the car speeds along the winding road, the city lights fading into the distance behind us. I sit in silence beside Nico, his smile unnerving in the dim glow of the dashboard lights.
”So, are you taking me home?” I finally muster the courage to break the silence.
Nico”s smile widens, his eyes glinting in the darkness. ”Yes, I am,” he says. ”But not to your old home.”
My brow furrows in confusion. ”What do you mean?”
Nico”s hand reaches out, his fingers gently brushing against mine. ”You”re coming home with me, Mia.” His tone fills me with an unsettling certainty. ”You belong with me,” he finishes.
My heart skips a beat at his words, a sudden rush of fear flooding through me. ”But Seb...” I begin, my voice trailing off as I think of Sebastiano, the only man I want to go home with.
Nico scoffs, shaking his head. ”He doesn”t deserve you,” he says. ”He never did. It should have always been you and me, Mia.”
I feel a lump form in my throat at his words, a bitter taste rising in my mouth. ”Nico, I...” I hesitate, not sure if I should tell him, but here goes nothing. ”I”m pregnant.”
There”s a brief pause as if he’s trying to think before he speaks. ”It”s not the first time a Don has taken another man”s child as his own,” he says, sounding surprisingly calm. ”I”ll be his dad,” he says like it’s no big deal. “Besides, it’s not like Sebastiano will be around long enough to see the baby be born.”
Fear grips me, and my mind races with a million different questions. ”But you”re not the don,” I manage to say, my voice trembling slightly. ”And what do you mean he won”t be around to see the baby be born? What are you planning to do?” The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and my belly sinks with an unsettling feeling.
Nico”s smile fades, replaced by a look of cold determination. ”You”ll see,” he says cryptically, his eyes flashing with a hint of something sinister.
Before I can press him further, the car pulls up to a grand mansion, almost as large as Sebastiano’s house. Nico opens the door and steps out, offering me his hand. ”Welcome home, Mia,” he says, his voice echoing in the empty night.
We walk through the lavish front double doors, and a woman with striking features and an air of confidence greets us. ”Mom, meet my fiancée, Mia,” Nico says proudly, as if he actually believes the nonsense he is telling his mother.
Before I can correct him, Nico”s mother speaks, her voice sharp and commanding. ”You”ll do as you”re told,” she says, her eyes narrowing in on me. My throat tightens, a knot of anxiety forming at her response, and I swallow around the fear, trying to comprehend what the heck is going on.
Roman appears from another room. ”We need to go to the docks tonight,” he says, turning to Nico”s mother. ”The final delivery will be arriving soon. Bring the girl,” he adds, gesturing in my direction as though he doesn”t know me. ”She”s collateral.”
My heart sinks at his words, a cold dread settling in the pit of my stomach. ”Nico, what”s going on?” I ask.
But Nico”s smile remains, his eyes shimmering like a kid on Christmas morning. ”You”ll see,” he says, not bothering to look in my direction. ”You”ll see,” he repeats a second time. Maybe he can see the fear that I”m feeling because after he makes eye contact with me, he steps toward Roman. ”You will not lay a finger on my fiancée. She”s carrying my child.”
Roman”s response is dismissive as he scoffs before turning on his heel and walking away. Perhaps he realizes how severely unhinged Nico is acting right now.
Nico”s mother”s grin stretches from ear to ear, closing the distance between us. ”You may call me Rinna,” she says, her voice laced with false warmth, like she believes every crazy words Nico is spewing.
Before I can respond to her, Nico grips my arm, his touch surprisingly gentle. “I’ll take her to her room until it’s time to leave,” he tells his mom. With a gentle tug, he leads me upstairs and into a bedroom. The room is modest, in contrast to the rest of the mansion, with only a simple bed in the center and no other furniture.
”The room is a little bare,” Nico remarks, his tone tinged with little nostalgia. ”It used to be my old room before I moved out. But we can spruce it up later. It could really use a woman”s touch.”
I bite back a retort, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at what he’s referring to. I”m so tired of these men trying to dictate my life, but for now, I”ll smile and play along until I can come up with a plan to get out of here.
”Sounds like a project for another day,” I reply casually, trying my best to hide my frustration. ”I”m a little hungry,” I lie, my stomach is churning with anxiety.
In reality, I need a moment away from Nico”s smothering presence to collect my thoughts and figure out my next move.
”Of course you are,” Nico responds. ”I”ll have Roman whip up something for you. Don”t leave the room,” he adds sternly before walking out of the room, locking the door behind him.
I roll my eyes, knowing I have no choice but to follow what he says. Because as much as I want to escape, I can”t risk jeopardizing me or my baby’s safety. But I have no intention of eating anything cooked by Roman, and with the door locked, I”m effectively trapped until Nico decides otherwise.
Nico returns a few moments later, with a plate of grilled chicken and veggies. I can”t help but notice the glint of the knife on the tray. My heart races, but I force a smile as he sets the tray down on the bed, beside me. When he turns to close the door, I seize the opportunity and knock the tray over, sending the plate to the ground in pieces with food scattering across the floor.
”Oh, my goodness, I”m so sorry. Darn my clumsiness,” I say. ”Let me clean that up,” holding my hand over my stomach.
Before Nico can stop me, I kneel and start to pick up the mess, my fingers trembling as I quickly grab the knife and swiftly move it under my leg. ”No, no, I got it,” Nico insists, reaching for the broken pieces.
He walks to the bathroom to grab the small trash bin. I take the time to stand up smoothly, sliding the cold metal up the sleeve of my shirt. He returns to the room, and I force myself to maintain a calm facade as he finishes cleaning up the mess, all the while shaking on the inside.
”I”m so sorry,” I repeat, the words tumbling out of my mouth in a spew of apologies, the sincerity in my voice surprising even me.
”It”s okay,” he reassures me gently. ”You rest. I”ll go see if there”s anything else left for you to eat.” With that, he leaves me alone again, his footsteps fading away down the hallway.
Nausea hits me out of nowhere, and I barely make it to the ensuite before I double over, retching into the toilet. The bile rises in my throat, burning my throat as it spills out of me.
I”m not sure how long I have been hunched over the toilet, when Nico eventually finds me on the bathroom floor, his soft tone cutting through the haze of nausea.
”Hey,” he says softly, crouching beside me. He offers me a cold bottle of water, and I accept it gratefully, gulping it down to soothe my burning throat. ”We have to leave,” Nico”s voice breaks through the fog of nausea, and I struggle to focus on his words.
Can I make it downstairs?
I shake my head weakly, feeling utterly drained. It”s not like I have an off button, but if he insists on me getting up, I hope I throw up in his stupid, expensive car.
Before I can gather my strength to respond, Roman barges into the bathroom, his tone harsh and commanding. ”We have to leave now,” he barks, and the sound sends a chill down my spine. This isn”t the Roman I know—the one I shared early morning pancake breakfasts with or the one who would bring me ginger ale when I was sick.
This Roman sounds like a monster.
I hover over the porcelain toilet, my stomach heaving with another wave of nausea. Roman reaches down to grab my arm.
But before his fingers can touch me, Nico jumps in front of him, his gun pointed right between Roman”s eyes. The sight makes me vomit again, the bile rising up in my throat.
”I told you not to fucking touch her!” Nico”s voice reverberates through the small room, his anger coming off in waves.
Roman raises both hands in surrender. ”Bring the bin so she can puke in the car. We have to leave, now,” Roman says more calmly before striding out of the room.
I can”t shake the unease creeping up my spine. So, I try to focus on clutching the bin tightly in my arms. It also works as a shield to hide the blade tucked up my sleeve.
The whole car ride is uncomfortably silent. But it’s not like there is a lot to talk about. Any question that I ask is either ignored or answered with a cryptic reply.
Finally, the car comes to a stop at the docks, a place I”m familiar with, but parked in front of what seems to be an abandoned warehouse tucked away behind the main building. It”s a building I’ve never been before. It”s hidden out of plain sight from both the main road and the water.
Nico offers his hand, but I wave him off, feeling like a stubborn toddler insisting on doing things myself. I shuffle out of the car. He”s like a hovering parent, guiding me inside with a light touch on my back. When we step into the building, I freeze. It looks worse inside than it does on the outside. This place looks like it will crumble at any second. The walls are corroded with so much rust that it seems to seep into every inch of the building, and the air reeks of mold. This can’t be safe for anyone to breathe in, let alone my baby.
I shoot Nico a look, and he just shrugs like it’s another day in the office. I can”t help but chuckle nervously. ”Well, at least it”s got character,” I mutter under my breath, walking up a small flight of stairs.
The warehouse isn’t a huge place, but being up high gives the advantage of seeing who is coming in or out.
The sound of metal scraping against the floor echoes in the empty building, as it makes the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
”Sit,” Roman commands, his voice cold and hollow.
I comply, taking a seat on the chair with Roman standing behind me. Nico walks off out of sight, and Rinna stands on the other side of me, facing the front door, like we”re waiting for someone to barge through the front door.