Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Nicolette
I froze, my entire body tingling at the all-too-familiar sound of that deep, smoky tone laced with a certain combination of cynicism and rage that was Giovanni Vitale. I’d known he would come, eventually, when his sidekick stayed away too long. Yes, one could say I’d anticipated his arrival, but nothing prepared me for the effect he’d have on my body after all this time.
But his being here was not for me. He would have never come for me after what I did, but for Marko. The Vitale men protected what was theirs, and Gio had always felt like Marko, as his best friend, was his to protect.
I’d heard the story repeated so many times by one or the other of them. How Marko had seen a boy standing alone, surrounded by a group of bigger boys. How Gio had seemed unfazed, and despite that, Marko felt it unfair and stood at his back.
He wasn’t family, not in the traditional sense. No one who didn’t share the Vitale name or heritage could be, but he was family to Gio by choice, and I’d interfered in their relationship dynamic not once now, but twice.
After Marko vacated the bedroom, I threw on one of his t-shirts and slipped downstairs, unnoticed by the two men. They were on the deck having a heated debate, that I could hear due to the doors being open.
When Marko shared the conversation that took place between us several days ago, I could feel the anger and danger rolling off him. There was a moment of silence and I peeked through the blinds opposite my hiding place to see Giovanni sitting on the edge of a deck chair, his elbows on his thighs and his fingers steepled, a habit a few of the Vitale brothers had inherited from their father.
I felt a coil of attraction in my core that had me instinctively pressing my thighs together. Gio was the epitome of beautiful danger, and time had been good to him. He was the same, yet different. Bigger, more attractive and way more dangerous than the last time I’d seen him from atop Marko’s shoulders as we celebrated the big win for our team. His eyes had remained fixed on me until I’d disappeared around the corner toward the dressing room.
Bitterness filled me with memories. I had my reasons for secretly disappearing that night, although I told no one of them at the time. After a long, sweaty victory kiss from Marko, he’d disappeared down the tunnel to the male changing rooms, but I’d stayed rooted for a few breaths until the danger I’d felt receded and I’d gotten the courage to peak around the corner to ensure I was alone, but that danger was still there, just waiting for a chance to pounce.
“This is stupid.” I pulled myself out of the memory of the last day I’d seen the guys. I was a grown woman with a life of my own. Being around the two of them had reduced me to my yester-self, and although it wasn’t such a bad thing, I’d momentarily lost who I was now.
“Explain what you're talking about, and Marko, my patience is wearing thin, so speak clearly and quickly. I’m warning you.”
I wasn’t Marko, but that threat sent a shiver down my spine. I had to question how much Gio had changed on the inside after years of being in the family business. Was he so far gone that he would he hurt a woman?
“Someone is trying to kill Nicolette. They’ve made several attempts, but luck has won out each time, and she’s walked away. The night she called me, the police had been to her place. A note was left on her table, saying that next time she wouldn’t walk away alive, that next time she wouldn’t see them coming. After the police left, offering her no help, she called me. I would have told you that night, but I didn’t want you to get upset. I thought she’d been raped and was being held captive.”
“That was almost a week ago, Marko. So why not come clean before now?”
“I’ve been hunting for the person responsible. He sends dead black roses daily, and no one has seen anything, and video surveillance hasn’t caught anyone either. This person is a ghost. I didn’t want to leave her unprotected.”
“I assume you’ve fucked her?”
My eyes popped wide, and crimson bloomed on my cheeks at the question. Of course, Gio would want to know what Marko and I had done, but he made it sound so shoddy that shame filled me. Isn’t that why I’d gotten drunk last night, to get up the nerve to jump on top of Marko? I wanted to get lost in a world of orgasms as he speared me in half with his enormous cock.
Gio had a way of cutting out all the bullshit and breaking things down to their most basic element. A tear trailed down my cheek and then another until I had to cover my mouth so they wouldn’t hear me sobbing.
“Get her ready to leave. I’ll go and speak with the director. What’s his name?”
What? Did he think he could make me walk away? Panic welled up in my chest and I flew down the few remaining steps.
“Where are we going?” I demanded with a glare, adopting the same facade I’d used for years to intimidate the competition and push myself to the top of the company.
Giovanni stood, his presence way more intimidating than I remembered. He bristled with primal male energy as he moved toward me like a lion stalking its prey. His deep- blue eyes shifted to a gray so dark they looked almost black. He was in a rage, and it was all I could do to not to flee back up the stairs and hide behind a locked door.
He bent me back, caging me against the stairwell banister. I almost groaned when the mixed scent of leather, bergamot, forest, and wine barrels assaulted me. Home. Wait! Not home, just familiarity.
Then he said the one word that was my undoing, the one I’d dreamt of all the years away from the people I loved the most on the planet. “Home, sweetheart, and the company is coming with you.”
His words and the tone in which he delivered them were an aphrodisiac for my starved libido, and burdened heart.
“But—” I began to protest, but anything I said would be flimsy at best.
“There are no buts,” he responded darkly. I couldn’t stop my pupils from dilating. Seeing my reaction to him, his sexy mouth pulled into a knowing smirk that worked perfectly with his handsome face.
He hesitated before speaking again. “Now be an obedient little ballerina and get ready to leave.”
He would not stand for me arguing against him, but I felt poised on the edge of a cliff with Gio and he'd either push me off or tug me to safety.
I had to know what his intentions were with me. How far he’d take this based on our shared history. “And if I don’t obey?”
“It’s your choice as to what condition you're in when you arrive home, but home you will go, even if I tie you up and put you in my trunk.”
His voice held a dark promise, like it had in the past when his word was absolute and meant to be obeyed. What I hadn’t expected was the lifelessness in his eyes when he spoke.
This was a newly minted Gio, the mafia man who never lost, and never took no for an answer, who always got what he wanted, even if it was just to torture a naughty brat like me.
I knew he saw the look of shock on my face, and the tears that threatened, but no way would I let him have the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I turned and fled back up the stairs.
I began throwing clothing into my new suitcase—a gift from Marko—along with the stuff he’d purchased for me the day after arriving. He’d escorted me to the studio on Friday and stayed with me all day. With no classes on the weekend, he’d taken me out that evening, giving us a chance to catch up.
Shopping had been fun, reminding me of the good old days when the boys would have me trying on heaps of sexy lingerie and dresses they wished to see me in. Until this morning, I’d thought things were progressing nicely with Marko. Now, after seeing Gio, I wasn’t so sure.
My tears blinded me, and I gave up trying to pack and slid to the floor with my back against the bed. That’s where Marko found me a few minutes later.
“Nicolette, why are you crying?” His gentle, soothing voice transported me back to when he’d found me at school in the girl's bathroom after a beatdown from my father.
I hadn’t wanted him to know and came up with a lame excuse he didn’t buy. When he reached out to grasp me and tug me to him, I’d cried out in pain. He’d quickly pushed my sleeve up my arm to see the handprint-shaped bruises on my skin.
Instantly the soothing Daddy tone he used with me when I was upset vanished and replaced with a hard tone from a man who wouldn’t blink an eye at destroying whoever hurt me.
But that wasn’t what scared me—it was him telling Giovanni that scared me. Gio would destroy whoever hurt me and I didn’t think I could live with the guilt of knowing I was responsible for my father's death, even if he was awful.
“Please don’t tell him,” I begged.
He’d known exactly who I was referring to.
“Marko, what the hell are you doing in there?” Gio’s voice came from the hallway outside the bathroom.
“Tell him, tesorina.”
Before I could beg some more, Gio entered the bathroom, exuding his presence and swallowing up what was left of the vital oxygen.
“What’s going on?” he’d asked darkly.
I’d tugged my sleeve down when Marko let go of my arm.
“Nicolette has something to show you. Don’t you, tesorina?”
There was no way he was going to let me keep my secret. Without saying a word, I’d pulled up one sleeve and the other. There were other places, but there was no way I was going to show them, overwhelmed as I was by the anger in Marko’s eyes and the disgust in Gio’s. That my father marked me this way was embarrassing, and I wouldn’t blame them if they walked away and found an actual mob princess instead of the daughter of a low-level mob soldier.
“Where else?” Gio’s voice was such a low growl I wasn’t sure what I’d just heard had come from him.
“Where else?” he said louder.
I couldn't answer him with words. Instead, I turned around and lifted the back of my shirt, glad he couldn’t see the tears that cascaded like a waterfall. The humiliation I felt was so consuming that all I wanted to do was go somewhere safe and hide under a blanket forever.
“Nicolette,” Gio said gently. He lowered my shirt and pivoted me around. “He won’t ever touch you again. I promise.”
I’m pulled from my memories when I hear, “I promise, Nicolette.”
“Huh? What did you say, Marko?”
He leaned down in front of me and handed me a tissue.
I quickly wiped away my tears.
“I said, things will work out, I promise. Now, time for you to get in the shower while I pack our bags.”
“I’m not going.” I pouted. We both knew that wasn’t true, but I had to say it to show I wasn’t on board with Gio’s plan.
Marko stood and pulled me to my feet. “Go. Get ready,” he demanded, turning me toward the ensuite door, and delivering a resounding smack on my ass that was so unexpected I cried out from the surprise. A stinging flame quickly morphed to delicious wave of heat that set my clit throbbing.
Only then did I realize that Marko no longer had the vanilla cookie scent I associated with home. It had been replaced with an intoxicating combination of musk, cayenne, and dark chocolate. Yet another change indicating that both of them had become hardened mafia men. I was questioning the wisdom in choosing to bring Gio and Marko back into my life.