19. Vlad
CHAPTER 19
VLAD
I'm in my office in Purgatory, sunk back into my chair, my gaze lingering on the paperwork strewn across the desk. My mind can't seem to concentrate.
That night loops through my memory—a grim film reel stuck on repeat. Nico's face flashes, wan and strained. The sharp tang of iron lingers in my mouth and nose from the blood. The dead weight of the body presses against us as we drag it away and load it into my vehicle.
I run through the mental checklist again, each item a tally against discovery.
Bleach on all surfaces. Check.
Clothing burned. Check.
SUV detailed. Check.
Alibis established. Check.
But doubt gnaws at me, a persistent rat I can't exterminate. What if we missed something? What if—
No. I can't afford to spiral. I close my eyes, willing myself back to that night.
The apartment reeked of copper and fear. Nico's hands trembled as he scrubbed at a stubborn bloodstain.
"Harder," I hissed at some point, my own voice barely recognizable. "We can't leave a trace. Move that chair. Check the wall."
He nodded, jaw tight. In that moment, I saw a glimpse of the man he could become—ruthless, efficient. A true Morelli.
We worked in silence, the only sounds our ragged breathing and the wet slap of rags against tile and wood.
The memory fades, leaving me alone in my office once more with the noise of the club filtering in through the thick walls.
A burden I've chosen to bear. For Nico. For myself.
I reach for the whiskey in my drawer I have stashed there for times like this, hoping to drown the horror of that night. But some stains, I'm learning, never truly wash away.
A sharp knock jolts me from my trance. Ivan enters, his expression stoic as ever.
"It's done," he says in Russian.
I nod, relief washing over me. "The footage?"
"Erased. Like you were never there."
"And the backups?"
"Corrupted beyond recovery."
I allow myself a small smile. "You're a ghost, Ivan."
"Ghosts leave traces. I leave nothing."
"Thank you."
Ivan inclines his head slightly. "Always, boss." Then he just stands there, looking at me.
"Is there anything else I need to know?"
"Vladimir. This Italian…He is trouble. I told you."
Ivan's right. He was right all along. He has a sixth sense when it comes to these things but I don't acknowledge his concerns.
As he silently turns to leave, I add, "Ivan, this never happened."
"What never happened?" he replies, a rare glint of humor in his eyes.
The door closes behind him, and I exhale slowly. One less loose end to worry about.
Another knock, this time more hesitant, comes a little later in the evening. Seven pokes his head in. "Boss, there's a man downstairs. Came through the back. Says he needs to see you."
I frown. "I'm not expecting anyone."
"He's... insistent. Says his name is Romeo."
My heart rate spikes. Nico. Here? Now?
"Bring him up," I order, masking my surprise. "Escort him to the VIP room. The corner one. Discreetly."
Seven nods and vanishes. I stand, straightening my tie, mind racing. What could be so urgent that Nico would risk coming here?
Whatever it is, I have a sinking feeling our carefully constructed house of cards is about to come tumbling down.
I exit my office and head to the VIP room.
As I push open the door, my breath catches. Nico stands by the window, a silhouette lined by the low light. He turns, and I'm struck anew by his beauty—all sharp angles and dangerous curves, like a stiletto wrapped in silk. I hate this. Hate that he makes me feel this way—rattled—whenever he enters the picture. I've never experienced anything of the sort before and it's driving me nuts.
"You can't be here," I say, my throat suddenly tight. His presence here, in my domain, is terrifying. "What the hell are you thinking? If anyone sees us—"
"Vlad," he interrupts, closing the distance between us with two strides. His eyes, usually playful, are filled with worry. "We have a problem."
My pulse quickens. "What kind of problem?"
Nico's gaze locks onto mine, unwavering. "Someone already saw us. My cousin Salvatore knows."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I struggle to keep my face impassive, but inside, I'm reeling. "How?" I manage. "We've been careful."
"I don't know." Nico runs a hand through his hair. "But he approached me today. Hinted at things he shouldn't be aware of."
"Fuck," I hiss, pacing now. "What exactly did he say?"
Nico's expression darkens. "Enough to make it clear he's been watching us. Closely. I think I was the sole target. You were just a bonus."
I stop, turning to face him. "And what does he want?"
"What Salvatore always wants," Nico says bitterly. "Power. Leverage. To destroy me."
My fist clenches as I process this new threat. Salvatore Morelli—a name I heard once or twice but never really cared to dig deeper. Tony's younger son. No one in this city takes him seriously. But apparently they should. "And what does it take for him to keep his mouth shut?" I ask first, but in my head, I'm already working out various ways of eliminating the asshole for good.
Anger fills Nico's eyes. "He wants me to back off from the family business. To give up my shot at running things when Tony retires. He claims he'll keep our secret if I do as he says." Nico's laugh is hollow. "As if I'd trust that snake."
I run a hand over my face, frustrated. "How sure are you that he actually knows something? Could he be bluffing?"
Nico shakes his head. "No. He wouldn't have thought of something like this for a bluff alone. This is—us—only someone who's been tailing me could know."
My mind races, calculating risks and potential moves. But I have to keep into an account that he's Nico's cousin. Nico's family. Even though I know firsthand that blood doesn't always mean we have to forgive. "Is Salvatore worth watching out for? How dangerous is he?"
"Dangerous enough," Nico says grimly. "He's cunning, patient. The kind who'd wait years to strike if it meant getting what he wants. He's been slowly working Tony over."
I nod, processing. "Everyone has secrets, Nico. We can dig up dirt on him too."
"If we never noticed we were being watched, Sal's not stupid. He probably covered his own tracks, took precautions."
A slow, predatory smile spreads across my face. "Then we'll need someone who's better at staying hidden than his people." I pause, an idea forming. "I know just the person. Someone who can track him without being noticed."
Nico raises an eyebrow. "You sure about this?"
I meet his gaze, letting him see the steel in my eyes. "Trust me, Romeo." I take a step forward, closing the distance between us, erasing this void. My gaze drops to his lips. I know it's dangerous but the thrill of discovery only makes the kiss sweeter when my lips press up to his. He responds instantly, tongue flicking over mine, wet and teasing. I fist his shirt and yank him to me until the air is out of my lungs and I need to pull back a little to get more oxygen.
"Is this smart, Vladimir?" he husks out, but the fire in his eyes tells me he doesn't mind it at all. On the contrary, he likes this just as much as I do.
"We're about to become hunters," I tell him and claim his mouth once more.