71. Niccolò
71
NICCOLò
A nger flushes my skin and radiates through me. I can nearly feel my bones shaking in fucking rage that Mauricio laid a hand on my girl. Walking into this building to Isabella on the floor nearly had me sprinting over to her and killing Mauricio on the spot. But when I looked over her seemingly unharmed body and Mauricio’s bloody nose, I quickly realized what had happened and a wave of pride washed over me even under our circumstances.
But now that I know my sweet Isabella is fucking bleeding, the rage hits me so hard my vision begins to blur. Taking a deep breath and listening to Isabella’s calming voice telling me she’s okay is the only thing that’s keeping me grounded.
“I cut myself when I fell after the gunshot went off,” Isabella whispers, and my heart constricts at her words.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Isabella?” I ask over my shoulder.
“I’m fine, Nicco. I really am. It’s just a little bit of blood. I can’t even feel where I got cut.”
“You promise?”
“Yes,” she whispers out.
I take a deep breath trying to calm myself so I can focus on what I need to do to get us out of here. I glance around at the scattered knives on the floor and try to come up with something.
Fuck.
I shift my weight, and the old wooden chair creaks beneath me.
The wooden chair… of course.
I silently pray it’s old and cheap enough for my plan.
My dad’s dark chuckle pulls me out of my concentrated thoughts. “You really are in love with that girl, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am,” I grumble. I need to keep him talking and then make my move when he least expects it. But I also need to get Mauricio in my line of sight. I’ll have to take them both out at the same time for this to work.
“Do you not see how foolish you’ve become?” my dad says with his gun still aimed at me. “I’ve spent your entire life teaching you to not grow attached to a woman, and you go and do exactly what I told you not to fucking do, and now look at you.” His laugh is dark and sinister. “You’re going to die because you didn’t listen to anything I told you to do.”
“Why is it so difficult for you to wrap your mind around me having a wife that I love and still be the leader this family needs?”
My dad shakes his head and begins to pace, which is exactly what I want. I want to rattle him. I want to catch him off guard. I’m about to keep pushing him when something cold touches my fingers, and I freeze while a piece of metal gets shimmied into my hand.
Is that a…?
I grab ahold of it, knowing exactly what it is, and now it’s all coming together for me.
My fucking girl.
“Feelings will always cloud your judgment, Niccolò. I’ve said it from the beginning,” my dad says as he paces back and forth like he’s the one trying to reign in his emotions.
“I don’t think they’ve clouded mine too much,” I say. “If anything, they’ve enhanced my judgment.” I need to keep him talking to distract him long enough so I can cut through the zip ties around my wrists.
The angle at which I have the knife makes it difficult to get any kind of leverage to put pressure on the ties. With a sharp blade, it shouldn’t be too difficult to cut through, but the position I’m in is making it fucking difficult.
Think, Nicco.
I start fidgeting with the knife, lifting it up and down to see if I can get any friction against the plastic ties to hopefully snap them open. I’m so focused on picturing in my head exactly what I’m doing that I don’t hear a word my dad says until I feel the snap of one of the zip ties being broken. My eyes widen, and I quickly move the knife to the other zip tie.
“Well, Niccolò?” my dad barks, causing my attention to snap to him. He stands there giving me an expectant look.
“I’m sorry?” I say, picking up my speed with the knife.
I need to fucking hurry.
My dad’s face heats when I ask him to repeat his question.
“You know what,” he says. “You want to play games? Fine, let’s play a game.”
Shit.
My heart rate begins to pick up.
“Mauricio,” he yells. “Get over here and pick your favorite knife up off the floor. Niccolò’s decided he wants to play games, so we’re going to indulge him and start playing back.”
Wait a minute.
Mauricio saunters over from behind me, and while I internally panic because I know exactly what my dad means by playing games , I also realize Mauricio is exactly where I need him to be to take them both down.
Mauricio and my dad are still holding their guns, but they’re aimed at the floor.
“Choose your favorite knife and then move the girl so Niccolò has a perfect view of you carving up that smooth skin of hers,” my dad says.
“Nicco,” Isabella breathes out, and the worry in her voice seeps into my skin, making my blood boil with rage. I haven’t been able to break through the last zip tie with the knife, but I know this’ll be my only shot at catching them off guard.
Knowing I have little time, I pull my wrists as hard as possible, fucking praying the knife cut through enough for me to break through the final remnants.
The hard plastic cuts through my skin, and I grind my teeth to keep from hissing out in pain, but after a few seconds, the faint popping of the plastic breaking sounds, and a speck of relief washes through me.
I whip my gaze to my dad whose eyes are on Mauricio as he bends over to pick up a knife, and that’s when I make the split-second decision that could be the biggest mistake of my life.
With my upper body still taped to the chair, I push myself up to as much of a stand as possible and hurl myself at Mauricio who’s closest to me, slamming into him as hard as possible with the back of the chair.
Just as I’d hoped, the force of the impact splinters the old wood. The pain hits me hard, but Isabella’s scream pulls me out of it. I don’t have time to waste recovering from the fall.
I kick my foot out, making contact with my dad. He falls to the ground, groaning and hitting his head on the edge of the table on his way down. His gun slides across the cement floor.
Rolling over, I push myself off Mauricio, my balance hindered by part of the chair still attached to me.
I glance over to my dad, and he’s barely moving, so I bring my attention back to Mauricio who’s grunting on the floor but still very much alive.
Turning around, I use what’s left of the wooden seat and slam my weight down onto his face, smashing it in. His muffled cries are subdued by the chair, and I do it again and again and again until the noise has deceased from within him. I’m panting by the end of it.
Still strapped to the chair, I grab a knife that’s poking out from under Mauricio’s leg and rush to cut the duct tape when a deep voice sounds from behind me.
“Put. The knife. Down.”
Inhaling a sharp breath, I turn around slowly and come face-to-face with my dad aiming his gun at Isabella, whose back is facing me. There’s a cut on his forehead and a line of blood trailing down the side of his face.
“Thought you knocked me out, huh, boy?” he says roughly, disdain taking over his voice.
“Nicco,” Isabella’s voice is frantic. “Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m okay, baby,” I say, keeping my eyes on my dad who still has his gun aimed at her.
“What did I say, Niccolò? Put the knife down. Now!”
I hold up my hands in defense, showing him the knife, and slowly start to lower myself to the floor. As I set it down, I continue holding my dad’s gaze when Isabella speaks.
“Just go ahead. Shoot me, you stupid bastard!” My dad quickly diverts his attention to Isabella, and my heart picks up speed, pissed that she’s trying to get herself killed. “If women don’t mean anything to you, then stop trying to use me to get to your son, you pathetic piece of shit!”
What the fuck is she doing?
Throwing herself in the line of fire for me is something I will never be okay with, but I quickly realize she’s also serving as a distraction, giving me the opportunity we both need.
“What did you just say to me?” My dad’s voice is cold, dark, and eerily controlled.
I quickly reach over and grab the gun Mauricio dropped by his leg and aim it at my dad. His widened gaze takes me in, and he drops down in front of Isabella, using her as a shield.
“Oh, now you want to hide?” I shout. “Figures. You can’t even be man enough and face me when we’re evenly armed.”
My dad spins Isabella’s chair around so she’s facing me, and puts his gun up to her temple while standing behind her.
“Nicco,” she says, eyes wide and on the gun I have pointed at her. It pains me to see the scared look on her face, but I can’t lower it. This will end here, right now.
“I highly suggest you let her go, Dad.”
He barks out a laugh. “How about I shoot her first and then get rid of you after,” he says.
I let out a breath and slowly shake my head. “You know, it never had to be like this,” I utter.
That gets my dad’s attention, causing him to straighten up a little, peeking his head out from behind Isabella. “What’re you talking about?”
“I’m saying you and I. The strained relationship we’ve always had, especially after Mom died. It never had to be like this. ”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grumbles.
While part of me is doing this to get him talking, distract him enough so I can make a move, another part of me is finally speaking the words I never had the balls to do growing up.
“Don’t I, though?” I say. “My entire life, the only thing you’ve ever focused on is your job as a don.”
“That’s my job !” he roars.
“Your job was also supposed to be a husband and a father, but where the fuck were you when Mom was dying from cancer? Where the fuck have you been for me ?”
The anger that’s fueling my words is so strong, I can’t stop them from spilling from my mouth.
“All you ever care about are your meetings and training me to take over for you, but let’s be fucking real for a second, Dad. You don’t even want me to take over for you. You don’t want anyone to take over for you because all you care about is the power you have being in the position you’re in.”
My dad’s eyes glimmer with anger.
“You’ve failed as a husband. You’ve failed as a father. And now you’re failing as the don of our family. You’ve let everyone down around you. How does it feel knowing everything you touch just ends up withering away from you in the end?”
That glimmer of anger in my dad’s eyes quickly turns into pure rage as he raises his chin and narrows his gaze on me. The flare in his nostrils is so thick I can see it from here. My words are ringing true and finally seeping under his skin.
“You really should’ve thought first before starting this war with me, Niccolò, because in the end—unlike you—I will do whatever it takes to get what I want.”
As if happening in slow motion, my dad pulls Isabella’s head back by the strands of her hair, causing her lips to flatten and a hiss of pain to break through her lips. My eyes widen as I take in the sight before me, knowing exactly what he’s about to do when he tightens his grip on the gun buried in her temple.
I act on pure instinct and fierce adrenaline, quickly lining up my gun and aiming it at my dad’s head. Letting out a slow and controlled breath, I pray my years of training don’t fail me now.