• 14
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING RIGHT NOW?"
My voice cracked through the room. Angelo, a man who once cut off a cartel lieutenant's finger without blinking, flinched.
"Say that again," I growled.
Angelo swallowed hard. "Daria is on a date. With Matteo Sabatini. They're at Allure."
I felt my pulse slam against my neck.
"How," I snapped, "did she end up with a Sabatini?"
"I think someone set it up... she met him there," Angelo said carefully. "And... boss... there's more."
"Spit it out."
He hesitated, which he never did, then handed me his phone like it was explosive. "She posted this before she left the house."
He clicked the screen.
And there she was.
White off-the-shoulder dress. Red lipstick. Beautiful hair. The necklace with her name, resting on her collarbone.
I didn't breathe. I didn't blink. Every muscle in my body locked in place.
"She looks... uh nice," Angelo said quietly. Trying to cool me down. Didn't work.
Nice.
Nice wasn't the word. She looked like every man's weakness. Like every fantasy I shouldn't be having. Like she was made to be touched, protected, worshipped. By me. Only me.
And some Sabatini fucker was sitting across from her right now.
My hand clenched so hard around the phone the case cracked. I shoved it back at Angelo.
"I'm going."
"Boss—"
"I SAID I'M GOING."
I stood so fast the chair slammed against the wall. My heartbeat was loud in my skull.
"That family," I growled, "tried to buy a Costa woman."
Angelo nodded quickly. "I know."
"And when she refused," I snapped, "they tried to kidnap her."
"I know."
"And now their little prince thinks he can sit across from my—"
I stopped myself before the truth slipped out. My what? My girl? My softness? My obsession? I clenched my jaw. I don't care what she is for now she's my Daria.
"She doesn't know who he is," Angelo said. "She doesn't know anything."
"And she shouldn't be anywhere near him," I hissed.
"Car's already waiting," he said.
I grabbed my jacket and headed for the elevator, fury burning through me. Not because Matteo Sabatini was dangerous. Because she dressed up for him. Because she smiled for him. Because she walked out of the house looking like that for another man. And I didn't stop her.
The elevator doors closed. I stared at my reflection—jaw set, eyes dark, chest tight with something sharp and unbearable. Possessive. Jealous. Maybe worse.
"Should I call backup?" Angelo asked.
"No."
"Sure?"
"Not unless Sabatini touches her."
The doors opened. I stepped out.
"Drive," I commanded.
"To Allure?" he asked.
"Yes." My voice was ice.
He nodded and floored it.
As the city blurred past, only one thought filled my head:
If Matteo Sabatini so much as lays a hand on her, I will fucking end him.
Allure glowed like every rich person in Manhattan shoved themselves into one building. Gold lights, crystal chandeliers, violins playing like this was some royal dinner.
I didn't see any of it.
I only saw her.
The second I walked through the doors, every sound in the restaurant muted. Every man turned to look. Some shifted uncomfortably. Some whispered. Some stared too long.
I stared back.
They looked away fast.
But then I found her.
Back straight. Dress hugging her in a way that made my pulse spike. Red lipstick. That necklace glinting against her skin. And she was smiling. Sweet and nervous.
At him.
Matteo fucking Sabatini.
He leaned in, elbows on the white tablecloth, talking like he had any right to be that close to her. His hand rested on the table like he was considering reaching for hers.
My jaw locked so hard it hurt.
He looked at her like she was pretty. I looked at her like she was mine.
I moved through the restaurant. People stepped aside without me asking. They always did. Especially the ones who knew who I was. It wasn't the suit. It wasn't only the reputation. It was the anger leaking out of me.
And when I reached their table, Matteo noticed first.
His smile dropped.
Good. There's nothing to smile about.
Daria turned. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted slowly. She looked so good, she didn't even know.
"Nico?" she whispered.
My pulse eased. Just a little. Only because she said my name like that.
Matteo straightened in his chair. "Can we help you?"
I didn't look at him. Not yet.
My eyes stayed on her.
Her lips, bright eyes, and soft glowing skin.
"You didn't answer your phone," I said quietly.
She blinked. "I... I didn't hear it. I'm on a date."
I looked at Matteo then. Calmly.
The way a man like me, looks at the problem he's about to remove.
"Are you," I asked flatly.
He scoffed. "Yes, she is. And we'd like privacy."
Daria looked between us nervously. "Nico, what are you doing here?"
"I needed to see you," I said.
She swallowed. "Why?"
Because you're sitting with the son of a man who tried to kidnap a Costa woman.
Because he's a threat and I almost lost control seeing you walk out in that dress.
He's looking at you like he deserves it. He doesn't. You're too good for anyone.
But I kept all that inside.
"You forgot something," I said instead smoothly.
She frowned. "What?"
I stepped closer until I was right beside her chair. Matteo tensed. Good. He should.
Gently, I reached down and brushed my thumb under her jaw where a small streak of lipstick smudged. Her breath caught. Her cheeks warmed. Her body stilled.
"You missed this," I murmured.
Her pulse jumped under my touch. I felt it.
Matteo stood abruptly. "Don't touch her."
I looked at him like he was a bug. "Sit down."
"I'm not—"
"Sit." My voice didn't raise. It didn't need to.
He sat.
Daria stared up at me, almost breathless. "Nico... what's going on?"
I lowered my hand from her jaw and let my eyes drag over her slowly, deliberately, possessively.
"You shouldn't be here with him."
"Why not?" she whispered.
Because you're mine. Because I'm trying not to carry you out. Because if you don't leave, I might kill him.
"Because I don't trust him," I said instead.
Matteo scoffed. "She doesn't belong to you, Costa."
My eyes snapped to him. Colder this time.
"Say that again."
The entire restaurant seemed to freeze.
Daria jumped up from her seat instantly, panic in her eyes. "Nico, stop. Please."
She touched my arm.
Just her fingertips.
But it was enough to pull me back from breaking his face right there. I looked down at her. At the worry in her expression, and the way she stood between me and him without realizing it.
"I'm taking you home," I said.
"I can go home by myself," she argued gently looking around.
"You're not staying here," I said, firmer this time.
Matteo spoke again. "She's staying with me."
I didn't even look at him. "No. She isn't."
Daria's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Nico, you're being ridiculous."
Maybe I was. I didn't care.
"You're coming with me," I said quietly.
Our eyes held. Her breath stuttered. Something inside her softened. She didn't say yes. She didn't say no.
She just nodded.
And that was enough.
I stepped back, just enough to let her gather her purse. I didn't look at Matteo as we walked away. He wasn't my concern anymore.
Daria was.
She stepped out of the restaurant, heels clicking, shoulders stiff. She didn't even wait for me.
I followed her out, jaw tight, still pissed.
The second we were away from the lights, she turned around and grabbed my hand, small fingers curling around mine, tugging me with more force than her size should allow.
Her voice was soft, breathless, furious.
"Nico... what was that? How did you even know I was here?"
I swallowed the urge to pull her into me.
"Somebody saw you," I said. "Somebody saw you with Matteo. That family isn't safe, Daria. You have to understand—"
"I can handle myself."
She cut me off fast.
Angry. Daria rarely got angry.
"I'm not some little sophomore girl who needs saving anymore," she snapped. "I was on a date. And he was actually really nice."
I felt rage burn in my throat.
Hot. My fingers balled into fists.
But I didn't show it.
"Daria," I said through clenched teeth, "you don't know who he is."
"And you don't get to embarrass me like that," she said, her voice cracking with frustration. "You haven't been in my life for five years, Nico. FIVE. And now suddenly you feel like you need to protect me from everything? Why? Why now?"
I've always protected you. Her eyes were glossy. Angry. Hurt. Fuck. I hated seeing her like that.
"You don't need to do that. I was fine. I was just sitting in a restaurant. You made everyone stare at me. I hated it. I was so embarrassed."
My chest tightened.
"I'm not a little girl," she whispered. "Okay? I'm not."
I pinched the bridge of my nose hard.
I needed one second to think before I said something I couldn't take back.
"I understand that," I muttered. "But you don't understand what he is. His family—"
"Fine." She stepped back from me. "Whatever. I'm going home."
"Wait," I said quickly. "Let me drive you—"
"No." Her voice was sharp but trembling. "I'm fine. I'm going home, Nico. You go home. Just... leave me alone right now. Goodnight."
She turned around and walked away fast, shoulders tight, hair swaying with every annoyed step.
My stomach dropped.
I wanted to call her back.
Drag her back, I need to apologize. I need to explain.
But I didn't.
I watched her until she reached her car.
Angelo stepped out from the shadows.
"What do you want me to do, boss?"
"Follow her. Make sure she gets home. Don't let her see you. I'll wait for you at the bar."
He nodded and disappeared.
I was about to walk away.
"Hey!"
Matteo Sabatini.
Of course.
He stepped out of the restaurant like he didn't know how badly he fucked up.
"Nico," Matteo snapped. "What the fuck was that? What the hell is wrong with you?"
I turned slowly. He should have run. He didn't. Big mistake.
"You don't get to storm into my date like some fucking psychopath—"
I was on him in two strides, backing him against the stone wall by his shirt collar before he could finish a sentence.
"Stay. the. fuck. away from her."
My voice didn't rise.
"She's mine."
His eyes widened for a second before he shoved at my chest. Brave? No stupid.
"What the hell do you mean she's yours? She's not yours, Nico. She's single."
I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him harder into the wall. I could've easily knocked his fake teeth out of his mouth. He winced at the impact.
"You don't know shit about her," I growled. "And if you don't stay away... I will fucking kill you."
His breath hitched.
Good.
Fear looked better on him.
Then he tried to stand tall, like his shitty bloodline gave him backbone.
"Don't threaten me. Get the fuck off me," he hissed. "You Costa men think you own everyone. You can't just claim a girl."
"Watch me."
I let go of him like he was nothing making sure he stumbled. Because he was.
I walked away and didn't look back.
Anger still burned under my skin. He knew better than to push me further.
I went to a bar I owned.
I sat at the counter. Didn't drink a thing, just sat there replaying her voice saying "You embarrassed me."
My phone rang.
Isabella.
Oh shit. Not now.
I answered because I had to. Not because I wanted to.
"Nico," she said in that mocking tone she always used. "So I'm hearing there was trouble at Allure tonight. Something with the Sabatinis. And you."
My jaw clenched.
"It's none of your business, Isabella."
"Well," she said, bored, "everything you do eventually becomes my business. You know, being Papa's favorite child and all."
"Don't start," I muttered. "You aren't the fucking Mafia King. You don't question me."
She scoffed loud enough that I wanted to throw the phone.
"I called to remind you you're required at Papa's birthday celebration. Try not to cause another incident before then."
"Great," I said. "Can't wait."
"I hate talking to you," she sighed.
"Good," I said. "Hang up."
She did.
I dropped the phone on the counter and rubbed my jaw.
I didn't like calling any woman a bitch.
But my sister?
She earned it.
And tonight had already pushed me too far, all I could think about was Daria's voice cracking when she said:
"I'm not a little girl."
I slammed my hand on the table.
Fuck.