27. Nico
CHAPTER 27
NICO
My head throbs like a jackhammer on concrete as I pry my eyes open. Strange patterns swirl on an ornate ceiling above me. Where the hell am I? The rest of my body is heavy like lead and I'm feeling the first sign of panic rising.
Immediately, I try to sit up, to bring myself to a less powerless position, but a wave of dizziness crashes over me. My stomach lurches. Groaning, I sink back into the sheets that smell faintly of lavender and... smoke?
Memories flicker through my mind. The warehouse. Vlad's crew. Drugs. Fire licking at my heels as I try to escape it through the small window. But after that, nothing except darkness.
A soft snore draws my attention. I turn my head and my eyes lock onto a figure slumped in a nearby armchair. Vlad.
He looks... different. Disheveled. The man's typically pristine suit has been replaced with a wrinkled blazer and jeans, a style deviation from his dress slacks. A livid scratch marks his cheek. How did that happen? His wrists are bandaged too.
"Vlad?" My voice comes out as a croak, foreign and rough. Shit.
His eyes snap open, meeting mine instantly. Relief floods his steel-gray gaze, quickly chased by concern.
"You're finally awake, Romeo." He straightens up and leans forward slightly, elbows on his knees. "How do you feel?"
"Like shit warmed over," I hoarse out. "What happened? Where are we?"
Vlad's lips quirk in a half-smile. "Eloquent as always, my dear."
The endearment—although part sarcasm—sends an unexpected surge of heat through me. I push it aside, focusing on the matter at hand. "What. The. Hell. Happened?"
He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. "You don't remember, do you?"
I close my eyes, trying to piece together the fragments. "We were inside the warehouse, ready to leave after your crew got all the coke out. There was a fire. A lot of smoke. I remember I found a window. Then... nothing."
"You inhaled too much smoke," Vlad says quietly, rising to his feet and stepping toward the edge of the bed. "I got you out just in time."
My eyes fly open as the realization finally hits me. "The fire wasn't an accident."
Vlad's expression darkens. "Correct. We can talk about it. I know you have questions. However, keep in mind, you're still weak and you need rest. I had a doctor look at you. You'll be fine in a couple of days, but can you take it easy for a bit?"
"Rest? I need answers, dammit." I try to sit up again, ignoring the pounding in my skull.
Vlad's hand on my chest stops me. "Nico, please. You nearly died last night. Give yourself time to recover."
I slump back into the mountain of pillows, only now noticing the familiar luxury surrounding me and an unmistakable view of the Vegas skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows.
"Where are we?" I ask.
"Eclipse," Vlad says, moving back to grab his chair to place by my bed. He settles back.
I frown.
"It's secure. Off the radar," Vlad explains. His eyes are sharp, watchful. "We needed somewhere safe, fast. I didn't have time to get you to my place. And my men are always downstairs and available to protect you in case something happens." His dark tone makes my spine tingle with a sense of unease.
"Do you expect for something to happen? How bad is it?"
Vlad hesitates, then says, "Bad enough that laying low is our best option right now."
I process this, a question nagging at me. "Maurice allows you to use these rooms in his hotel?"
A wry smile crosses Vlad's face. "Let's just say we have a mutually beneficial arrangement. He knows saying no is not in his best interest."
"He doesn't interfere in your business?"
Vlad shakes his head. "Purgatory cleans his money, he turns a blind eye to certain... activities."
"I see," I mutter.
There's a long moment of silence in the room. Vlad's face is unreadable all of a sudden as he stares into the distance, probably calculating the next twenty steps. I swallow hard, trying to dislodge the dry lump in my throat. It's tender and speaking proves to be challenging, but with the reality of the situation sinking in, I need to get as much information as I can. I also need to acknowledge the elephant in the China shop… so to speak. "Vlad, I... Thank you. You saved my life back there."
Vlad's severe gaze softens. "Don't mention it, Romeo. Besides, who else would keep me on my toes?"
His attempt at humor—so divinely rare—loosens the knot in my chest, but anxiety quickly resurfaces. "The shipment," I blurt out, sliding up higher on the pillows despite the dizziness. "Is it safe?"
Vlad leans forward in his chair. The scratch on his cheek catches the light, a violent reminder of our narrow escape. "Relax, Nico. The coke is secure. I made sure of it personally."
"What now?" I ask. "We're trapped here."
"Now, we plan. We survive. And when the time is right, we strike back."
Without warning, Vlad's hand finds mine, his grip both unexpected and welcoming. A surge rushes through me—raw energy blistering under my skin like lightning on the horizon. His fingers are calloused but gentle, and I find myself marveling at how such dangerous hands can feel so calming.
"Nico," he murmurs, his voice rough. "We'll get through this together. I don't want to just leave you like this, injured."
My throat, already in pain, is tight with emotions I can't quite name. The warmth of his skin against mine is strong and feels like home, and I'm acutely aware of how close he is. His steely eyes, usually so guarded, now hold a softness that makes my heart race.
"I need to go home," I say abruptly, tearing my gaze away from his. "Uncle needs to know about Salvatore. About what happened. We have the drugs. That's more proof than enough to destroy my cousin."
Vlad's grip on my hand tightens. "It's too dangerous, Nico." He pauses, his expression shifts. "It was Salvatore who tried to kill us at the warehouse. You can't just waltz back in there. The situation isn't in your favor."
"What?" Shock courses through me. "Salvatore? Are you certain? He set the fire?"
"I wouldn't say it if I wasn't sure. Your cousin wants you dead. I also think he had help."
The words hit me so hard. I'm stupefied, all of sudden, without even moving a muscle. I pull my hand away, running it across my stubbly jaw as I struggle to process the betrayal. I knew Sal was capable of this, but it stings anyway. " Cazzo ," I mutter. "I need to warn Tony. This little shit is going to fuck it all up, dealing with shady people like La Alianza. I need to—"
"You need to stay alive," Vlad interrupts, his tone accepting no argument. "Going out there now is suicide."
"I can't just sit here and do nothing."
"I understand your frustration. Trust me, I do. But listen to me for once. While you were out, Ivan dug deep. Salvatore knew about our plans, every detail. He knew we were coming. He let us steal the coke so he could kill us. The warehouse was doused in something flammable. Probably odorless lighter fluid. One of my guys has a connection at the fire department and I got a sample. I checked, and it looks like they do make those odorless fluids. That's why we couldn't smell anything. He was three steps ahead the whole time."
My stomach churns. "How? We were so careful..."
"Your cousin's more cunning than we gave him credit for," Vlad says. "Seems to me he's been playing a long game."
" Dio mio ."
Vlad nods grimly. "There's more. I sent my men to scout the Morelli compound and see if they can get some info on the streets. It's not looking good…" He hesitates, and I feel a chill creep up my spine.
"Just spill it," I demand. "I don't like being in the fucking dark."
"Looks like Tony's been cut off from the world. Salvatore is doing business in his steed."
"Oh hell." Sal's milking his father's weakness for all it's worth. I scoot up, now fully vertical. "He's never been involved in it to begin with. Claudio never let him."
Vlad leans in closer, voice dropping to a secretive whisper. "Another thing," he continues. "There's a rumor circulating. They're saying you're dead."
"Dead? Why would they think—"
"They found a burnt body in the warehouse," Vlad explains. "No official ID yet. But someone's keen to slap your name on it because of some watch they found there identified as yours."
I shut my eyes, feeling the walls of this room closing in. When I pry them open again, Vlad stares back at me with worry sculpted into every line on his face.
"If there is a body, it means someone died."
"It's not on us. I checked with my guys. Sal's people must have done that."
"But why?" I have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact someone is trying to keep me dead.
"Because the real you made it out. I'm suspecting this is all a show-off for Tony. He sees your body, signs off his business to his younger son."
"Wherever this leads can't be good."
"We need to be smart about this, Nico," Vlad says softly. "For now, it's best if the world thinks you're gone."
I sit up straighter. "I need to reach Tony. He has to know I'm alive, that Salvatore's behind this. I bet that cazzo is whispering in Uncle's ear."
"It's too dangerous for you to approach him directly. If you go back home, guns blazing, and in this condition, Sal and his men will never let you see your uncle. I already have my men track Tony's movements. He will leave the house sooner or later. He probably goes to church. With you presumably dead, he'll want to go see a priest. That's our best shot."
Why have I never thought of that, I wonder. "Your men don't mind?"
"Of course, they don't mind." Vlad chuckles as if I asked something so obvious. "We're in this together now, Romeo. Whether you want it or not. For better or worse."
I reach out, my fingers brushing against his. The simple touch has my world returning to its axis. " Grazie , Vlad. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."
There's a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "I'm sure we can think of something."
The moment hangs between us, filled with possibilities. Then Vlad's brow furrows. "Where's your guy? Costa? You should have backup."
I tense, choosing my words carefully because I don't want to give him false hope. "He's... handling some business for me out of town."
Vlad's eyebrow arches. "While things here this hot?"
"When I gave him the task, it was before shit hit the fan," I lie.
Vlad stands, straightening his wrinkled blazer. His hair falls across his forehead, a bit messy. And somehow, this look—it makes him seem younger. Innocent even. Like an Ivy League graduate working in accounting. "I'll start digging into Tony's routine, find you an opening," he supplies. "But Nico," he pauses, his expression grave, "for now, we do need to play dead even if your cousin knows the body isn't you. We're not sure what happened in that warehouse and who died. It's at our best advantage–keeping the truth to ourselves."
I nod slowly, the weight of the decision making me uncomfortable. "Agreed. We let them think they've won, then strike when they least expect it."
Vlad's smile is predatory. "That's my boy. Now, rest. We've got a long game ahead of us too. Your cousin isn't the only one who can play them."