17. Jazz
17
JAZZ
T he city blurs past my window as Angelo drives me to meet my friends for brunch. My head rests against the cool glass, thoughts spinning like the wheels beneath us. Every shadow holds a potential threat now. Every stranger could be the one who wants me dead.
And then there's Nerio. God, Nerio. The way he moves, speaks, commands attention without trying. The dangerous glint in his eyes when he's angry. The gentle touch of his hands when he thinks no one's watching.
I squeeze my eyes shut. What kind of person falls for someone like him? Someone who orders hits and runs criminal enterprises like they're just another business venture? The worst part is knowing exactly what he is and still wanting him.
I have been quiet lately. I can't seem to get out of my own head. My thoughts are at war, so loud I can barely think, and most days I just sit curled up in front of the window. I spend every night wrapped up in Nerio, enjoying his body but wondering what the hell I am doing.
I feel so lost.
Angelo pulls up to the restaurant, a trendy spot downtown with exposed brick walls and hanging plants. My friends are already seated on the patio, mimosas in hand. Angelo takes position at a nearby table, trying to blend in and failing spectacularly in his black suit.
"Jazz!" Mikayla jumps up to hug me. "We were starting to worry."
"Sorry I'm late." I slide into my seat, noting how their eyes track Angelo. "Traffic was brutal."
Skye leans forward, perfectly manicured nails wrapped around her glass. "So we're just not going to address the suited gentleman watching our table?"
"He's...security." I grab the menu, hoping to change the subject.
"Security?" Mikayla's eyes go wide. "Jazz, what's going on? First you move suddenly, now you have a bodyguard?"
"It's complicated."
"Complicated like the fact that you've been missing brunches?" Skye arches an eyebrow.
I swallow hard. "I've been busy."
"Never been too busy for brunch. What's going on?" Mikayla reaches across the table, concern etched on her face. "We're worried about you. You've seemed off lately, distant."
"I'm fine, really." The words taste like lies. "Just dealing with some work stuff. The security is temporary."
"Work stuff that requires armed protection?" Skye's voice drops lower. "This has something to do with him, doesn't it? Your boss?"
I take a long sip of water, buying time. How do I explain that yes, it's about Nerio, but also about rival crime families and death threats? That I'm both terrified and thrilled by the danger he represents?
"Can we just...enjoy brunch?" I plead. "I promise I'm being careful."
They let me get through ordering at least. But that's it.
Kendra sets down her fork with a clatter. "Careful isn't good enough. You need to tell us what's really happening."
"It's nothing-"
"Don't." Kendra's voice cuts sharp. "Your hands are shaking."
I glance down. She's right. My fingers tremble against the white tablecloth. "Things are just... intense right now."
"With Nerio?" Skye leans closer. "Everyone knows he's dangerous, Jazz. The rumors about what he does-"
"They're not rumors." The words slip out before I can stop them. My stomach drops as three pairs of eyes lock onto me. "I mean..."
"What exactly do you mean?" Kendra's jaw tightens.
"He's... connected. To certain organizations." I pick at my eggs benedict, appetite gone. "And there might be some people who aren't happy with him right now."
"Organizations?" Mikayla's brow furrows. "Like..."
"Like the kind that makes problems disappear." I drain my mimosa. "And sometimes those problems fight back."
"Jesus Christ." Skye pushes her plate away. "You're sleeping with a mob boss?"
"He's not a boss, he's a capo." Another slip. Shit.
"That's not better!" Kendra throws her hands up. "Have you lost your mind?"
"He protects me." I hate how defensive I sound, especially when I feel so uncertain already. "The security, the new apartment - it's all to keep me safe."
"Safe from the danger he put you in!" Skye hisses.
Mikayla touches my arm. "But he must care about you, right? To go through all this trouble?"
"Girl, don't encourage this." Kendra shoots her a look.
"I'm just saying - if he's making sure she's protected, maybe he really does have feelings for her." Mikayla shrugs. "Love can change people."
"Or get people killed." Skye's voice drops low. "Jazz, please tell me you have an exit strategy."
I stare into my empty glass. The truth is, I don't want an exit strategy. Despite everything - or maybe because of it - I'm drawn to Nerio like a moth to flame. The danger, the intensity, the way he makes me feel both safe and terrified... I'm addicted.
"I know what I'm doing," I lie.
But I leave brunch feeling worse than before.
The elevator doors open to my floor and I dig through my purse for my keys. But that's when I realize my phone is missing.
I shove my hand through the purse but come up empty. I check the side pocket. Nothing. Frantically, I dump the contents onto the marble floor of the hallway. Lipstick, wallet, gum wrapper - no phone.
"Shit." The car. I must have left it in the car after checking my messages.
I jab the elevator button repeatedly, willing it to move faster. The doors finally slide open and I rush through the lobby, heels clicking against the polished floor. Please still be there.
Relief floods through me as I spot Angelo's black sedan still idling in the private garage. But as I approach, I notice he's standing outside the car, phone pressed to his ear. His back is turned toward me.
"Yeah, Frankie, I got it covered." Angelo's voice echoes off the concrete walls. "Boss won't suspect a thing. Those Bueti bastards won't know what hit them when-" He pauses, listening. "Mantione's guys are ready? Good. Just waiting on the signal then."
My blood runs cold. What the hell?
Angelo shifts his weight and I quickly paste on a bright smile as he turns.
"Oh thank god you're still here!" I call out, waving. "I'm such an airhead - pretty sure I left my phone in the backseat."
His face smooths into an easy grin, all traces of his previous conversation vanishing. "No problem, Miss Holliday." He ends his call and opens the rear door. "Take your time."
I lean into the car, spotting my phone wedged between the seats. My hands shake slightly as I grab it.
"Found it!" I straighten up, holding the phone aloft like a trophy. "Thanks Angelo. Have a good night!"
"You too, Miss Holliday. Stay safe."
I force myself to walk normally to the elevator, resisting the urge to run. Only when the doors close do I let out the breath I've been holding.
What the hell did I just overhear? And more importantly - who do I tell?
Once upstairs again, I pace my living room, phone clutched in my hand. After three tries, I finally manage to type out a message to Marco.
Not feeling well. Won't make it in tonight.
The response comes quickly.
Everything ok?
Just need rest.
I add a sick emoji for good measure.
My stomach churns as I think about Angelo's conversation. The Mantiones. A signal. Something about the Buetis not knowing what hit them. The implications make me dizzy.
I need to tell Nerio. The thought comes with crystal clarity, cutting through my confusion. Whatever's happening, whatever Angelo's involved in - Nerio needs to know.
I consider typing out a message to him, asking him to come, but I decide to wait. He'll be home — when did I start calling this place home? — later. But I don't expect him to show up as the sun sets, painting the penthouse in deep oranges and purples. I hear the private elevator whir to life, followed by the distinct sound of Nerio's footsteps.
"Little dove?" His voice carries through the apartment as he opens the door. He's gotten to where he knocks less and less.
I meet him in the entryway, wringing my hands. "We need to talk."
His expression shifts, gray eyes narrowing. "What's wrong?"
"I overheard something today. It's Angelo." The words tumble out as I relay everything I heard in the garage.
Nerio's face darkens with each word. His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking. By the time I finish, his hands have curled into fists.
"That fucking rat." His voice is deadly quiet.
"I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier. I didn't know who to tell. Who to trust-"
He crosses to me in two strides, cupping my face. "You did the right thing waiting for me." His thumb traces my cheekbone. "Smart girl."
The kiss he gives me is fierce, possessive. When he pulls back, his eyes have gone stormy.
"Stay here tonight. Don't leave. Don't let anyone in." He's already reaching for his phone. "You can trust Marco if you need to. I need to handle this."
"You're not staying?"
"Can't. Not tonight." He kisses me again, briefer this time. "Lock up behind me."
I watch him stride to the elevator, his movements controlled but radiating fury. The doors slide shut and I'm alone.
The penthouse feels massive suddenly, empty. I curl up on the couch, hugging a pillow to my chest. It's strange how quickly I've gotten used to falling asleep in his arms. How much I miss his warmth, his presence. He doesn't always spend the night but he'll at least stay for a few hours…
At least make me forget everything else for a little while.
Sleep feels impossible tonight.