Chapter 5 #2
“Nobody,” I say quickly. “Just…” Why didn’t Liam listen to me and stay out of sight? Dante is a dangerous man, and I don’t want Liam anywhere near him. I don’t want Liam near any mafia stuff. My two worlds are never going to collide.
“Liam.” Dante’s voice takes on a different quality, something silky and dangerous. “That’s Liam, isn’t it? Your little friend from your school days.”
My blood turns to ice. How does he know that name? How does he know about Liam? Dante was at Molly and Dario’s dinner party last week, but all I said then was that my friend was getting out of prison. I never mentioned any names. But Dante has a deeply uncanny way of knowing everything.
Liam takes a small step backward, pressing himself against the doorframe. His eyes are wide with the kind of fear I recognize, prey animal fear, the look of something cornered. Lord knows Dante has made me wear that expression many times.
“I remember hearing about you,” Dante continues, stalking forward with fluid grace. “The pretty boy who killed a girl. Five years in Brixton, wasn’t it?”
Liam flinches like he’s been struck. His face goes chalk white.
“Dante,” I warn, but he ignores me.
He takes a step toward Liam, then another, moving with the casual confidence of a man who’s never encountered anything he couldn’t break.
“You’re much prettier than I expected,” he purrs, his voice dropping to that intimate whisper that makes grown men confess their sins. “I can see why Nicolo tried to keep you all to himself.”
Liam makes a sound, small, choked, terrified. His whole body is trembling now.
Something snaps inside me. Something I didn’t even know could break.
“Don’t.” The word comes out sharp as a gunshot. “Don’t fucking say shit like that.”
I’m moving before I realize it, putting myself between Dante and Liam like a human shield. My hands are shaking with rage, with fear, with something so fierce it burns in my chest.
Dante stops, his dark eyes widening with genuine surprise. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never raised my voice. Never pushed back. Never done anything but nod and follow orders like a good little soldier.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” My voice is steadier now, fueled by something stronger than fear. “Stay away from him.”
For a moment, the apartment is dead silent. I can hear Liam’s ragged breathing behind me, can feel the heat of his body pressed close to my back.
Then Dante laughs, a sound like breaking glass.
“Well,” he says, genuine admiration creeping into his voice. “Look who found his spine.”
He takes a step back, hands raised in mock surrender. “My apologies, Nicolo. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I glare at Dante. He was either freaking Liam out on purpose, or I just witnessed Dante’s fucked-up version of flirting. Both are entirely unacceptable.
Something shifts in Dante’s eyes. A new note of seriousness. “I didn’t realize the boy was under your protection.”
The implication hits me hard. The word ‘protection’ carries weight in our world. It’s a claim, a boundary, a line drawn in blood.
“He is,” I say firmly.
Dante nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “I see.” He straightens his coat again, all business now. “Midnight, then. Don’t disappoint me.”
He heads for the door, pausing only to look back over his shoulder.
“And Nicolo? Next time I won’t be so understanding.”
The door closes behind him with a soft click that sounds like a coffin lid slamming shut.
I stand there for a long moment, my heart pounding so hard I’m sure Liam can hear it. When I finally turn around, he’s gone.
“Liam?”
Silence.
I find him in his bedroom, curled up in the far corner with his knees drawn to his chest. He’s shaking so violently the whole bed is vibrating.
“Hey,” I say softly, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “He’s gone. It’s okay.”
“Who was that?” His voice is muffled against his knees, but I can hear the tears in it.
I close my eyes. There’s no point in lying anymore. “His name is Dante. He’s... he works with me.”
“Works with you how?”
The question hangs between us like a loaded gun.
“He’s a cleaner,” I say finally. “When things get messy, he... cleans them up.”
Liam’s head lifts, and I see my own reflection in his terrified eyes. “What kind of things?”
I can’t answer that. Won’t answer that.
“The kind of things that can’t be allowed to stay messy,” I whisper.
He stares at me for a long moment, and I watch something die in his expression. The last traces of the boy who used to look at me like I hung the moon.
“You’re not doing boring stuff,” he says. It’s not a question.
“No.”
“You kill people.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. “Liam…”
“Do you kill people, Nicky?” His voice cracks on my name.
I want to lie. I want to tell him it’s not like that, that I just drive the car, that I’m not the one pulling triggers or asking questions. But I can see in his eyes that he already knows the truth.
“Sometimes,” I whisper.
He lets out a sound that might be a sob or might be laughter. It’s the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever heard.
“I have to go out tonight,” I say. “But I’ll be back. I promise I’ll be back.”
“What if you don’t come back?”
The question hits me in the chest like a bullet. What if I don’t? What happens to Liam then?
“I will,” I say fiercely. “I swear to you, I will come back.”
But even as I say the words, I know they might be a lie. In my world, promises are fragile things, easily broken by a bullet or a blade.
Liam drops his head back to his knees. “I want to go back to prison,” he whispers.
The words shatter something inside me. “Liam, what the fuck? No!”
“At least there I knew what the monsters looked like.”
I reach for him, but he flinches away from my touch. The rejection cuts deeper than any knife Dante has ever wielded.
“I’m still me,” I say desperately. “I’m still your Nicky.”
But we both know that’s not true anymore. The boy who used to steal donuts and dream of fast cars is gone, replaced by something darker. Something dangerous.
Something that might not be able to protect the person he loves most.
As I sit there on the edge of his bed, watching him fall apart, I realize that Dante was right about one thing.
We do have a problem.
And I don’t know how to clean this one up.