20. Nerio
20
NERIO
T he dim lights of my office cast long shadows across the polished mahogany desk. I tap my finger against the glass of whiskey, ice cubes clinking as I study the surveillance photos spread before me.
"They're getting bolder." Marco leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Even with Angelo and Frankie's bodies, I found two more trying to case another one of our properties last night."
"And?"
"They're at the bottom of the river." He shrugs. "But it's not like the Mantiones to be this aggressive. They've always been hotheads, but this is more…organized."
I take a slow sip, letting the burn settle in my throat. “Any of the other families involved?”
He shakes his head. “Not other than the Cappalletti’s kidnapping stint. Which Don Mantione has all but covered up now, like he doesn’t want anyone to know.”
I nod, looking at the photos that show three different Mantione soldiers we caught last week - all dead now. But something doesn't add up. These weren't their usual guys, weren't even made men. Just expendable pawns.
"They're testing our defenses." I push back from the desk. "Seeing where we're watching, how fast we react."
"For what?"
"That's what I need to figure out." My gut churns with the certainty of impending violence. I've been in this game long enough to recognize the calm before the storm. "Get eyes on their usual spots. I want to know every time Luca Mantione takes a fucking breath."
"Already on it." Marco pulls out his phone. "Do you think they're pissed we took their moles away? They're just being little pests to try and get back at us?
"No." I shake my head. "This is bigger. Those moles were expendable too. Sal doesn't waste resources on revenge - not unless there's profit involved."
The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken possibilities. Every instinct I've honed over years in this business screams that we're missing something crucial. The Mantiones are planning their next move like a chess game, and we've only seen their pawns.
They might have drawn first blood with their pathetic attempts at infiltration, but I didn't become a capo by underestimating my enemies. Whatever storm is coming, I'll be damned if I let the Mantiones catch us unprepared.
I slide the photos into a manila envelope and tuck it into my desk drawer. "Call the others. Meeting in twenty."
Within the hour, my most trusted soldiers fill the back room of Carmine's. The ancient brick walls and lack of windows make it perfect for private conversations.
"Here's what we know." I pace the length of the wooden table. "The Mantiones are probing our defenses, but they're using expendables. No made men, no one who can trace back to them if caught."
Marco nods along. "You think we give them something to focus on?"
"Exactly. We give them exactly what they want - a weak spot." I pull out a map of the city, spreading it across the table. "See this warehouse district? Perfect staging ground for an ambush."
"That's awful close to their territory," Tony says, scratching his stubble.
"Exactly. We'll leak information about a major shipment coming through. Something too tempting to ignore." My finger traces the route. "But we control all the access points, every rooftop, every alley."
Ray shifts in his chair. "What makes you think they'll bite?"
"Because we're going to make it look like we're scrambling to keep it quiet. Nothing draws attention like trying to hide something." I tap the map where three streets intersect. "We'll have teams here, here, and here. When they move in-"
"We close the trap." Marco's eyes light up with understanding.
"First, we need eyes on their operation." I grab my keys. "Marco, Tony - you're with me. Time to do some recon."
We take separate cars, meeting up again in a rundown neighborhood on the edge of Mantione territory. The streets here are narrow, buildings pressed tight together like rotting teeth.
"Their main base of operations is that old mechanic shop." Marco points to a weathered building with peeling paint. "They've got lookouts on the corner stores, probably more we can't see."
I study the layout, mentally mapping escape routes and choke points. "Those rooftops will give us perfect sight lines. And that alley-" I nod toward a narrow passage between buildings that lead into my territory. "Perfect for herding them exactly where we want them."
Tony pulls his collar up against the wind. "This could work, boss. But one wrong move..."
"That's why we plan for everything." I memorize every detail of their setup. "We make them think they're the hunters, when really-"
"They're walking right into our crosshairs," Marco finishes.
"That's right."
We do another hour of looking and planning, eventually deciding what to leak and who we'll have come out here to close the trap. Once everything is finalized, I decide I'm ready to go home.
My addiction has only been growing, and I'm itching to see Jazz.
She's still up when I get home, curled up on my leather couch, legs tucked beneath her, wearing one of my shirts that drowns her small frame. The city lights sparkle through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft glow across her features.
"So you were out late." She takes a slow sip of the whiskey I hand her, those dark eyes studying me over the rim of her glass.
"Business." I loosen my tie, sink into the cushions beside her.
"I take it not the kind at The Vault?" Her eyebrow arches. "Have there been anymore… problems?"
"Always some cropping up." I trace my thumb along her jaw, feeling her lean into my touch. The tension from earlier melts away at the contact. "But nothing I can't handle."
"I hate not knowing if you're safe." The words slip out soft, vulnerable. She catches herself, straightens her spine. "I mean, who else is gonna sign my paychecks?"
I smirk at her attempted deflection. "Still worried about me, little dove?"
"I don't know how to stop." The confession sounds like she would rather keep it in, but her hand finds mine, fingers intertwining. "Just seems like there's been more... incidents lately."
"Nothing I can't handle." I pull her closer, breathe in the jasmine scent of her hair. "Though I like knowing you care."
"I don't." She pokes my chest. Even though we both know it's not true. "You're just convenient to have around. Tall enough to reach the high shelves."
"Is that all?" I toy with her hair, loving how light my chest feels as I sit here with her.
"And you make decent coffee." Her lips curve into a teasing smile. "When you're not being an insufferable ass."
I capture her chin between my fingers. "Only decent?"
"Mmhmm." But her eyes drift to my mouth, betraying her attempt at indifference.
"Liar." I brush my lips against hers, feeling her sharp intake of breath. "You're a terrible liar, Jazz."
She melts against me, all pretense falling away. "Fine. Your coffee's amazing. Happy?"
"Getting there." I trail kisses down her neck, savoring how she arches into my touch. The world of violence and vengeance can wait. Right now, all that matters is the woman in my arms, finally letting her walls down brick by brick.
And that's how I spend my next week. Planning with Marco, Ray, and Tony during the day, and pulling out small confessions from Jazz every night. I love to hear how she whimpers out that she does miss me, she does care, even if it doesn't come too willingly.
I've been obsessed with her since I first saw her. I knew for me right then I'd never want anything else as long as I had her, and that hasn't change. I've just been waiting for her to get there…
I think we're getting close.
Which means I can't let anything happen to her.
I check my watch - two hours until the Mantiones take our bait. Jazz needs to be safely away before then.
"Marco's waiting downstairs." I grab her overnight bag. "The safe house is fully stocked. You'll be comfortable."
Jazz plants herself in front of me, arms crossed. "I'm not going anywhere."
"This isn't up for discussion."
"Like hell it's not." Fire blazes in her eyes. I've seen her turn that look on others, but she's always melted before me. I like seeing her like this. "You don't get to ship me off like some fragile package."
"Jazz-"
"No." She jabs a finger at my chest. "I've spent too long letting men decide what's best for me. Never again."
The words hit like a punch to the gut. "What do you mean?"
Her shoulders tense. "My… ex. He started the same way - all concern and protection. Then it was control. Isolation. Until I wasn't allowed to make any choices for myself."
A haunted look passes through her eyes that makes me grit my teeth. "What did he do?" I can tell it was more than that.
She shakes her head, but all I can see is red. "Nerio, it's ove-"
"What the fuck did he do?" My voice is a low, icy growl, and even her eyes widen.
Softly, like she doesn't even want to admit it, she whispers, "He abused me. Put me in my place and kept me under his thumb."
I'm shaking now. Violence is looking for an outlet and I need to find that fucker. Fuck the Mantiones. Fuck the business. Fuck everyone else in the world because I am going to spend the next months torture that asshole for every doing anything but bringing Jazz pleasure.
"Who?" It's the only word I can get out, and it doesn't even sound human.
"Nerio-" She starts, putting up a hand.
And I snap. I stalk toward her, catching her hand and pressing it to my chest. Her eyes widen as she looks down, feeling my racing heart as pure violence pumps through me.
"Tell me." I cup her face, the gentle swipe of my thumb so at odds with the way my body wants to tear this fucker apart. "Give me his name, little dove."
She shakes her head, and I slide my hand to the nape of her neck. I tilt her head back, so she's looking up at me, leaning in close enough that our lips brush. "Give me his name or I'll start killing everyone in this city – in this goddamn country – on the off chance they wronged you."
Her eyes widen as she whimpers, "I already killed him."
At this, my hold loosens and my own eyes widen. Fear flashes across her face, and I wonder if she's ever admitted that before.
"In self defense," she adds softly. "But I did. He's gone."
It's weird how pride works its way through my body as she says it. "Good." I lean forward and kiss her slowly. Only once the pure rage starts to ebb from my body do I pull back. "I'm proud of you."
A bit of relief flickers through her eyes as if she thought I was going to fucking judge her. Her voice softens. "But I won't be sidelined. Not by anyone, not anymore."
"This isn't about control." I slide my hand to her jaw. "If anything happened to you-"
"And what about you?" Her fingers curl into my shirt. "You think I could live with myself if something happened and I wasn't there? If I…" She swallows hard. "If I lose you."
"You're too important to risk."
"So are you." The raw honesty in her voice strips away my defenses. "Please, Nerio. Don't push me away."
I rest my forehead against hers, breathing in her familiar scent. "You stay by my side. No heroics."
"Deal." Her lips curve into a smile. "Though I should warn you - I'm pretty good in a fight."
"Is that so?" I back her against the wall, cage her with my arms.
"Mmhmm." She tilts her chin defiantly. "Want me to demonstrate?"
I capture her mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing her gasp. Her fingers thread through my hair as she pulls me closer, erasing any space between us. All thoughts of the coming battle fade away as I lose myself in her touch, her taste, the way she whispers my name. And if this is my last chance, I'm going to taste every inch of her.
So pressed up against the door of our apartment, I drag my tongue along her skin, making her come on my face before I finally bury myself in that glorious cunt and pumping her full.
Condition number two: she has to feel me dripping out of her all night. Just as a little reminder of who she belongs to.