Chapter 4
Nicole
"Alex has so much energy," I tell Annette. We watch him and Jaime playfully slap plastic red and blue swords beneath the monkey bars.
"Chatty and charming," Annette says. "Just like all the Robertson men." She feigns exhaustion as she takes another sip of coffee. "They make for good lawyers, and even better liars." I decide not to delve too deeply into the meaning.
Jaime looks happy—not just for a boy who lost his parents a few weeks back, but truly happy.
"Thanks for coming," I say. "I know it was short notice, but we..."
"Oh, come on, doll. There's no need to thank me. We love Jaime, and having a pretty young girl to hang out with de-ages me," she jokes. Annette is about 10 years older, but you can't tell with her smooth skin and fit figure. She has the look of elegance, someone whose style could elevate any brand she wears.
Jaime met Alex a week ago at a park a few miles from the estate. The two quickly took a liking to each other and played all day, so naturally, Annette felt compelled to chat with me. It was her idea, actually, to have a playdate. And just in time, too. I was worried that Shane's missed family time would hurt Jaime so much that I'd stopped promising him appearances altogether. Annette and Alex were highly dependable for playtime. She was a full-time mom who'd retired early to raise her son.
"It's me who should be thanking you, really," says Annette. "Jaime is such a good boy, and any distraction that keeps Alex from tearing down the city is a blessing to me."
"Well... Jaime is sweet, but far from an angel. Soon they'll be plotting their destruction as a team."
Annette laughs at that. It's my first official mom joke.
"I love your accent. Whereabouts in Italy are you from, doll?"
"Naples," I say reflexively. Damn , I think. The lie I've practiced is Florence .
"Really?" Annette asks instantly. "Is it rough there? You know, a month ago, I wouldn't even know where it was. But my feeds have been blowing up about the gangs from there."
That was news to me.
"Oh, it's just like here, really. It all depends on the city and the kind of company you keep," I say. "I mean, it's a man's world. For us, each place is just as dangerous as the next."
"You got that right, doll. That's why we girls have to look out for each other," Annette adds. "Oh, I can't wait to show you around to the other moms," she says, pulling out her phone. "That reminds me, what's your handle on InstaSnap?"
"Oh... I don't have an InstaSnap or anything, really."
That was a lie; I use one social media platform—SnapFace. My private account has few contacts and contains fake pictures and made-up information.
"Really? A pretty girl like you would be a star, and it's a good way to meet some new people in the city," Annette remarks.
"Oh, I'm not interested in making friends or updating everyone on my life."
An actual truth , I think to myself. My social media life is keeping tabs on the old neighborhood and its people. If anything were to happen to Giovanni, SnapFace would likely be the first place where I could see the news.
"Wait, so no InstaSnap or SnapFace, nothing?"
"No, I just try to avoid them." I hesitate, thinking of a good reason why not. And then it comes to me: Why not use a bit of truth? "I had an obsessive ex who nearly ruined my life, constantly trying to keep tabs on me. I decided a year ago to give it a rest for a few years, or until I feel comfortable again."
"Say no more, sweetie. We've all been there. We'll just talk through text. Please promise to send me pictures of you and Jaime now and then."
"Of course." I smile.
"If you don't mind me asking, the ex... was this here or back home in Italy?"
"Italian guy," I respond. "Back home. He helped me after I lost my parents. I'd dated him before. I knew he wasn't good, but... he was there. A shoulder to cry on, made sure I ate, helped me and my brother out, and me being dumb, I fell back into it."
"You ain't dumb, honey," Annette responds. "I've done it before. Did he talk you down? Hit you?"
"Both," I say. "He said I wasn't giving him enough attention. It started with yelling and outbursts of anger for no reason. Then it escalated to shoving and pushing. One day, when I made a sarcastic comment, he hit me. I ended things right then and there."
"Hmm... They're everywhere, huh?" says Annette. "Well, at least you were smart enough to move on. Unfortunately, I can't say there's much of a better selection here."
Annette's phone rings, drawing her eyes to the illuminated screen. "Speaking of low-quality men," she says, looking up from her phone. "It's time for his dad's monthly playdate to start." She smiles, then raises her eyebrow as if an idea has come to her. "I'm dropping him off with his dad in an hour, and I'll be free the whole night after..." Her eyes widen. "You wouldn't be interested in being happy for an hour or three?"
"I... what's that?"
"Happy hour, doll... half-priced drinks. Free, if the bartender thinks you're cute enough."
"I wish. I've got to make Jaime's dinner, and his uncle's working late."
"Uh, well, next time, doll. I'll get you out someday, no worry," she says slyly, a half smile across her face.
I get up to call for Jaime, but she gestures me down.
"Relax, hun, I'll reel them in," says Annette. She gets up and crosses the park, returning with Jaime and Alex walking in front of her.
"Hey guys," I say to the boys. "You two have fun?"
Alex looks full of joy as he nods his head. "Ms. Nickel, can Jaime come to a sleepover with my dad?"
"Yeah, can I?" Jaime adds.
"Hmm," I pretend to think about it for a moment; the answer is no, of course, but I don't want to seem too cold. I look to Annette, who shrugs her shoulders.
"Not tonight, boys, but I promise to ask Uncle Shane about it next time... How's that, bud?" I say to Jaime.
"Ok," he says with a smile.
"We've got to go," Annette adds. "You two say goodbye."
The boys turn to each other and slap hands, palm to palm, then backside to backside. They end with a hug, and my heart melts instantly.
Annette smiles. "See you soon, doll," she says to me. Then she brushes back Jaime's hair. "Bye, Jaime," she says sweetly. Annette and Alex turn and start down the path to their car, giving a final wave as they walk away.
Our car arrives at the park as the rain starts. In the backseat, Jaime talks about his day and his connection with Alex. It's nice to see him so excited. But Annette's comment about her social media blowing up is bothering me. I grab my phone and start looking for news articles or posts about the syndicate and Naples.
One story catches my attention: "New York City Police Investigate Series of Violent Crimes Tied to Italian Crime Family." The article details a series of violent incidents in the past few months, all linked to the Avvoltoi syndicate. A new task force is being assembled to crack down on their activities.
Raffaele comes to mind immediately.
After we broke up, I called Aldo when Raffaele threatened our protection. Aldo sorted things out with Raffaele, making it clear that any harm to us would come back to him. That was a lesson I learned from my father: For every egotistical bully that tries to control you, there is always someone more egotistical trying to control everyone. The syndicate despises loose cannons, especially when they work for them and threaten their reputation. Still, Raffaele had always promised he'd get me back. He'd be the one to establish the family overseas, and I'd be his queen once he did.
It all makes sense now. "We'll see you soon," was the message he'd sent me in his last text, one I thought was innocuous.
He's doing it, and he'll have me right where he wants me.
It's sports day at Jaime's school, and I arrive bright and early, seeing the kids just as they run onto the field and line up with their classes. Each class has a distinct color, Jaime's being lime green. I settle in the bleachers with the other parents, sipping a coffee to combat the morning chill. Shane has promised to make an appearance, even going as far as to tell Jaime directly, though what time and how long has not been made clear.
I watch Jaime shyly stand among his classmates as they talk and strategize about the day's events. He's only been there a few months, and his new kid syndrome is plain to see. I know how he feels; maybe that's why we've bonded so easily.
He keeps mostly to himself as they start the events, but this changes once they get to the relay race. Jaime takes off in a burst of speed for his race. I've never seen him run so fast, and apparently neither has his class. He easily wins the race, and is greeted with cheers and hugs by his team as he returns to their sitting area. I feel pure joy watching him smile as the other children high-five him and slap him on the back. I look around for Shane, but he's not there, and I promise myself I won't do it again. Today is about Jaime. I push Shane from my mind and focus.
Jaime goes on to win the potato sack race after that, and some strange sport where they carry an egg on a spoon. I guess it's an American thing. His bond seems to grow closer with the students each time. A few of them even come to ask him to play when the games pause for the picnic lunch with parents. Still no Shane, and I hate myself for thinking of him.
Shane arrives just as they begin the closing games, rushing to my side.
"Hi, sorry," he says.
"Hi," I say. I don't give him the courtesy of any more words.
"How's he doing?"
"You can ask him soon," I say. "There are only two events left." I say it as coldly as I can.
He sighs. "Look, I know I'm—"
"I'm going to the vending machine for a soda," I cut in before walking away from him.
I watch the rest of the events with Shane in silence, using my best efforts to suppress my anger and support Jaime. After the final games, the children all gather with their classes and listen while the principal reads the results over the loudspeaker. Jaime's class wins second place for their grade and jumps for joy at the sight of their large silver trophy. Jaime is ecstatic, and even more so to see his uncle in the crowd afterward.
"Could you just say something to me, please?" Shane pleads. "It's not good that he sees us like this."
My anger hits its limit as I turn to him. "What's not good is him seeing you show up late or just be absent for everything, Shane. Each time you do it, you show him how little he means in your busy schedule."
"I can't—"
"Yeah, you can't get anyone else to cover you. With all the money and people under you, you can't make one event on time." I scoff.
"It's going to get better. I'm just adjusting to—"
"We're all adjusting, Shane. We do it together, but you'd rather throw money and excuses at everything."
"You just don't listen to any—"
He pauses, staring at someone behind me. I instantly know it's Jaime.
Jaime's face crumples, and I see the hurt in his eyes. The anger in me dissolves as guilt floods my chest. Shane looks pained, his eyes softening as he watches his nephew.
"Hey, buddy," Shane says, bending down to Jaime's level. "You did amazing today. I'm so proud of you."
Jaime's lip quivers, and he looks between Shane and me. "Are you two mad at each other?"
I force a smile, pushing aside my anger for Jaime's sake. "No, sweetheart, we're just talking. How about we go out for an early dinner at your favorite restaurant? What do you think, Shane?"
Shane nods, his expression softening. "Yeah, let's go celebrate. How about it, Jaime?"
Jaime's face brightens, and he nods eagerly. "Can we go to the place with the big pizzas?"
"Absolutely," Shane says, standing up and ruffling Jaime's hair.
We drive to Jaime's favorite restaurant, pretending everything is okay. The tension between Shane and me simmers under the surface, but we focus on Jaime, listening to him talk about his team and how fun the sports day was. Despite the anger and frustration, I find myself drawn toward Shane, and I am mad at myself for this.
As Jaime devours his pizza, Shane and I exchange glances, a silent truce forming between us for Jaime's sake. The evening passes with laughter and stories, and for a moment, everything feels almost normal. But as we head home, I know the unresolved tension is still there, waiting to resurface.
Despite everything, I can't help but feel a pull toward Shane, a dangerous attraction that I know I need to fight. Jaime's happiness is what matters most, and I can't let my emotions get in the way of that. But as I watch Shane interact with Jaime, I can't deny the part of me that wishes things could be different.