Chapter Eighteen-Nico
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN-NICO
I frown as my phone buzzes, but I don’t ignore it.
Typically, I do not allow interruptions when I’m in business meetings, but ever since Anna came into my life, I feel a compulsion to be available at all times.
I mean, fuck, if she needed me and I was too busy to answer, I’d never forgive myself.
I grab my phone and glance at it, reading the name of the person texting me. It’s Angel with an update.
Seems my wife invited a friend over today. A female friend, so that makes it okay, but still, I need to have a talk with her about that.
Of course, Anna can have anyone she wants over, but she should tell me first so I can clear it with security.
Angel’s got something going on with that Giselle woman, Anna’s best friend, so he allowed her to come up the elevator. But if he wasn’t still on guard dog duty, she’d never have passed clearance.
“Mr. Fury?” my realtor says my name, and I turn my gaze to him.
He can’t hold it very long. So, he drops his eyes and taps the document he wants me to look at.
It’s a prospectus for a new development down the shore. One of those retirement complexes for people over fifty places, but I think I’ll pass.
For some reason, I’m more interested in the project to build low income housing right here in Jersey City. Sure, the government has plenty of spots, but those buildings are shit holes.
Overrun with violence, drugs, and ill health.
People need a better place to start. Families need a place to live where they feel safe.
Maybe I’m feeling sentimental because my own son is growing inside my wife at this very moment, and both of them mean the world to me.
“I want to invest in the project on Kearny Avenue,” I tell him and stand up.
I’m done with this meeting .
“But Mr. Fury,” he starts, and I spin on my heel.
“Did I stutter, Borello?”
“No, sir,” he mutters.
“Good.”
I leave, ready to be done with the day, so I can take my wife to dinner. But I’m not finished yet. I have an appointment to visit some guys at city hall.
Fucking politicians and city employees. Every single one of them has their hand out, and yet, they call me the gangster. What a fucking joke.
But it’s the cost of doing business and Viper Enterprises has earned its place in the hierarchy of moguls and corporations working the system.
Everyone plays their part, I just play mine better.
I might not have gone to college, but I know how the world works and I’m not stupid. Growing up running wild in the city streets meant I listened, and I learned.
Some lessons were harder than others. I look at one of the many scars I have, this one on my right forearm, and I exhale slowly.
My son will not learn lessons like that. He will be strong, yes. But he will also be loved. And that’s not something I have a lot of experience with, but I have a feeling it will make all the difference.
My Anna knows love. The affection she feels for our baby is clear on her sweet face whenever I catch her touching her stomach or just daydreaming about him.
I know her life hasn’t been easy. She’s worked hard, and mostly alone, for way more of her life than most people her age. I know she’s going to be thirty-three in December.
That makes her seven years younger than me. I’ll be forty a week before her birthday.
I can’t believe I lived that long. But now that I have her, now that she’s given me a family, I’m determined to double my years.
Besides, only the good die young and I’m not that.
Nah. That’s a fucking lie.
My Anna is good, and I refuse to even think for a second she might leave this world before I do.
It hits me then.
I love her.
Fuck.
I can’t breathe. I know I care. That I am obsessed. But love?
Double fuck.
All the crazy emotions I’ve been feeling for this woman for more than half a year now all add up to one thing. I am completely besotted. Head over fucking heels.
I love her.
And there is something about acknowledging my love for her that makes my heart beat double time and sets my dark soul to soaring.
I have to tell her. There’s no excuse for keeping it a secret. I want to tell her right now, but I think it needs to be face to face.
I sigh and scrub my hand over my face, running my palm over my short beard.
What will her reaction be?
I don’t pretend I deserve her love. I mean, I know I don’t. I basically bullied her into marrying me after I knocked her up and failed to track her down.
Okay, I didn’t know she was pregnant, but still. I knew I wanted her, and I let her get away. I thought I was being merciful, keeping her out of my fucked up life.
But I see now that I was just justifying my own fucking cowardice. I admit it now, in the car, to myself, I was afraid Anna would reject me.
The streets blur as I think about how that might have gone down. If Anna told me no. If she refused me.
What would I have done ?
I shake my head. It’s best not to think about it. Because Anna didn’t reject me. She didn’t turn me down.
Fuck.
When I think of how readily my sweet Rosebud submits to me every single time I touch her, my cock starts to harden, and I have to work to get it to back the fuck down.
I’m not going into a meeting with some greasy fucking councilman sporting a chubby.
“Traffic ahead. Looks like an accident,” Tommy, my driver, says.
“Take the turn ahead. Cut around,” I tell him.
I exhale again. My nerves are all fired up, and I don’t want to be here. I want to be home.
With her.
Sometimes I feel like two sides of a coin. One side is the king of the Vipers. The ruler of a criminal organization that commands respect in the tri-state area.
The other side is just me.
Nico Fury. The man.
I think of Anna as we take a side street. My driver knows where to go, and with the accident behind us, I don’t need to pay attention.
I think of her pretty face and her sweet, soft body. The way she moaned my name when I woke her up this morning with my face between her thighs.
She’s so goddamn beautiful. So fucking delicious.
I can’t get enough of her.
But even as I remember all the dirty, sexy things we did just hours ago, I’m alert. My senses are working, and my body is attuned to my surroundings.
I’m always fucking aware of my surroundings. I have to be.
It’s how I survived this long. I keep myself loose, my hands rest on my thighs, and I look at my left one in particular.
Hmm.
That reminds me, I have something to do before I go to this next meeting.
“Take the next left. We’re making a pit stop at Trapp’s,” I tell my driver, and he nods.