27. Nico
NICO
Chicago celebrates our return with a downpour.
I leave Valeria in the apartment, curled up on the bed to sleep off the jet lag, and strike out into the rain.
I knock at the first door, dripping puddles of water onto the marble under my boots.
The door swings open. Giovanni doesn’t look surprised to see me. Maybe he’s asked Salvatore for a tracker on my location as well.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he says in Italian. His loose white shirt casually covers the gun shoved into his trousers.
“I came to talk.”
He assesses my soaked clothes, lingering on my hands hidden in pockets.
“I hope that is all. I do not want to break you again. Your sister gave me an earful.”
My smile doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Not today.”
He lets me in.
In New York, Giovanni’s sprawling estate featured a heated pool, limestone courtyard, and Hellenistic marble statues which ushered you toward his Renaissance-style mansion.
His penthouse here shows the same fussy attention to detail.
Paintings from Alessia’s artists line the walls, a full-grain leather couch faces the crackling fireplace, and rain drums against the floor-to-ceiling windows. The place is immaculate.
A beautiful blonde woman, wearing an oversized button-down and tattoos along her right arm and leg, steps from his hallway.
She glances at me, before asking Giovanni a delicate question in Russian.
He replies in the same language, and she smiles warmly at me before disappearing down the hall.
I bite back a hundred remarks about sleeping with the enemy.
“Let’s make this quick,” Giovanni says. “I’m busy.”
My ribs ache. I swallow venom and spit out the words I’ve been rehearsing on the drive here.
“I don’t want Valeria anymore.”
Mild surprise flashes across his features. “And that was decided before or after almost running into a house fire to save her?”
I affect my best look of apathy as I walk around Giovanni’s flawless kitchen.
I’m not surprised he knows about that. There’s no secrets in the Family.
A coal-black bottle of Greco di Tufo sits next to two empty glasses on the island.
“That would be after. I’m tired of her. She’s boring, and I’ve had my fun.
” I face the cabinets, speaking over my shoulder.
“What about that other girl? Giorgia? She still single?”
“Valeria is not giving you a baby?” The slightest hint of threat carves into his words.
I swallow the anger that surges through me.
I make my way through the living room, stopping in front of the windows.
Rain lashes against the glass panes, but I still imagine I can see through the grey haze to my apartment, all the way to Valeria’s sleeping form on the bed.
“No, she’s been begging me for one. She tries every chance she gets. ”
When I turn toward him, his arms are crossed, and he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, sizing me up. “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
“Get your eyes checked,” I snap. Fucking Giovanni.
He doesn’t need to believe me or question my motives.
He just needs to obey—to do what he’s good at.
“She’s boring now, and her family is an embarrassment.
You were right. I was just marrying her to fuck with Father, but since you all are going to let me go through with this, I’m done.
Giorgia is a better match—she’s beautiful, fun, she likes art, and she’s part of a powerful family. She’s a perfect match.”
He sighs. “This is inconvenient. Your sister is finalizing the wedding details now.”
I wave my hand through the air. “Alessia loves a good challenge.”
“But she does not like surprises.”
Alessia doesn’t like anything she can’t control. “No, but she’s good at pivoting, and she loves to do things she’s good at.”
He considers this, tapping one finger against his arm. “And what do you suggest we do with Valeria? She will be disappointed, no?”
“She’ll be heartbroken,” I say and force a smirk to my mouth. “I want to leave her a little goodbye package. Some money and help with a new start, out of Chicago. She won’t be a problem for us.”
“Her brother will be upset. He will retaliate.”
Irritation crawls through my veins. “Send him on a boat out of the States. He’s too useless to be a real threat, and if I see his face again, I’m going to kill him.”
“And your papà?”
I meet Giovanni’s eye. This is the most important part. “He’ll be happy I picked a new woman with better connections.”
Giovanni’s expression goes soft, one of the rare times I’ve seen the look on his face. I force myself not to react, not to lash out. If he wasn’t so fucking committed to his role as Matassa’s Beast, to mindlessly obeying my father’s commands, I could’ve kept her.
“If you let her go, you won’t be able to get her back.”
“I know.”
A blonde man in a navy business suit opens the next door I find myself at. “Uh, can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Lacey.”
He scoffs. “Good luck, buddy, she doesn’t swing that way.”
I roll my eyes. “Get the fuck out of my way.”
He shouts at me as I shove past him into the apartment.
At the kitchen bar, Lacey looks up from a big bowl of artificially-bright cereal. She drops her spoon in with a splash and crosses her arms over her chest.
“He just barged in. Should I call the cops?” her roommate asks, hovering behind me like a fly.
“It’s fine,” she says with a heavy sigh. “What do you want, Nico?”
I can see why Valeria likes her so much.
I toss the package I brought across the kitchen counter. “This is for you.”
She hefts the big, black bag in her hands and grimaces. “Is it going to be some weird shit?”
I shrug. “Depends on what you think is weird.”
With that, I turn, wink at her roommate, and walk out of her apartment. I’m almost to the elevators when she rushes after me, dressed in pajamas and a huge coat.
“Nico!” She grabs my shoulder, and I let her wrench me toward her. She leans in close. “What the fuck was that for?”
“It’s a gift. Valeria’s about to go through a… difficult time. You need to be able to support her.”
“There has to be thousands of dollars in there,” she whispers.
“Don’t spend it all in one place.”
“What’s going on? What’s wrong with Valeria?”
At the look of open concern on her face, I pause. She loves Valeria too—that much is clear.
“She’s safe.” That calms me, a little. It’s what matters the most. “She’s not in any danger, but…”
I can’t seem to force the words out loud.
Lacey looks at me closely, her eyes narrowing. “You’re leaving her.” It isn’t a question. She frowns and reaches out to gently squeeze my wrist. “For what it’s worth, she loves you too.”
The rain has stopped by the time I get back home.
My soaked coat slides from my shoulders, landing with a damp thump on the floor. As I bend down to untie my boots, rustling comes from the bedroom.
I stand, walk to the doorway, and she’s there, in the middle of a big pile of folded clothes. Her hair is pinned back from her face. She’s wearing shorts and one of my black hoodies.
For one perfect moment, it’s a bubble of quiet domesticity.
Then I notice she doesn’t just have the clothes from our trip—everything she owns is on our bedroom floor, next to a row of her suitcases. And her cheeks are wet with tears.
My chest caves in.
She’s packing to leave. Some part of me had hoped that she would fight this more, but I should’ve known better. The only thing she ever fought was me.
“Val,” I say.
The T-shirt in her hands stretches. When the stitching begins to pop, she seems to realize what she’s doing and drops it from her hands.
“Nico,” she says carefully. She pushes herself to standing. For a breath, she’s so completely alone in the center of the bedroom—a boat in the middle of the ocean—that it takes everything in me not to go to her. She swipes at her eyes. “Lacey said you gave her money…”
And I’m leaving, I finish in my head. Blood pounds through my head, my chest. My hands hang limply against my sides. “Everything is going to be taken care of for you—”
She sucks in a breath. Raw pain flashes across her face before shuttering into nothing. She crosses her arms across her waist like she has a bellyache, but the only emotion on her face is apathy.
This is what she wanted. What she begged for.
I squeeze my hands into fists and force myself to continue, “You can pick out any place you’d like to live, and I’ll work with Alessia to make sure you get the funds you need.
She has the contacts to make sure that you’ll have a job in whichever city you choose.
I’ll move out today and live with Salvatore.
You’ll still have a guard, but don’t leave the apartment until you’re ready to move.
” My throat is raw. “And if you need any help, I’ll be there for you. Always.”
“What about your dad?” she asks tonelessly, like we’re finalizing the details of a business transaction.
She’s not acting like this to hurt me—this is how she processes pain. It’s a good thing, I tell myself. She’s composed. It’ll keep her safe.
“He won’t be a problem. I’ll fall in line. I’m going to marry Giorgia, and tomorrow, I’ll fly out to promise him whatever he wants to leave you out of this.”
“What is he going to make you do?” she whispers. She takes a step toward me.
My entire body tilts in her direction, but I don’t touch her. She’s not mine anymore. I can’t. “You don’t have to worry about that. You only need to worry about yourself.”
She smiles bitterly, her arms tightening around her belly and fresh tears springing to her eyes.
“Not anymore,” she says, and the edges of my brain go fuzzy as I anticipate her next words. “Nico, I’m pregnant.”
A rush of emotions washes over me—elation, excitement, love and affection for Valeria, and then all of it gives way to a tsunami of horror.
I curl violently forward, my hand to my stomach, slamming into the doorframe, scrabbling at the wood to keep from falling.
I swallow the gush of saliva that precedes vomit.
“What?” I croak out.
“I wasn’t sure at first, but my period is late, and I’ve been nauseated and tired for the past couple weeks. My breasts are tender. I haven’t taken a test—”
I look sharply at her.
She shakes her head. “I didn’t want to get caught buying one. I can’t put it at risk.”
“Your birth control pills? Did you miss one?”
She meets my gaze steadily. “Not a single one.”
The cold truth plunges through me. How many other people have been in the apartment? Giovanni, Stefano, Joey, the doctor. Alessia. She’s used our bathroom before. She would’ve made the swap if she thought it was in my best interest.
“I’m sure,” Valeria says.
Fuck.
“Is it mine?” I ask, and as I do, I realize I don’t care what her answer will be. It doesn’t fucking matter if it’s mine or not. She’s mine—she’ll always be mine—and any baby of hers would be mine too.
“You’re the only person I’ve slept with for weeks now, and I hadn’t had sex for almost a year before that.”
I swallow sand before asking, “Can I feel your belly?”
She nods, her eyes shining with misery.
The apartment is silent as I take a step toward her. I wrap one arm around her to support her back and place the other on her lower belly.
She rests her fingertips lightly on my forearms.
“Have you felt it yet?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “It’s too early to tell. I won’t feel it move for several more weeks.”
I dig my fingers into her soft, warm belly. That’s my child, inside the woman that I love.
For a brief moment, I let myself be happy.
I imagine what it would be like to take her out to celebrate this news.
To tell everyone I know that I’m having a baby.
To let myself imagine that this could be the first of more.
That I would get to see Valeria’s stomach swell with life and be a part of it every step of the way.
I pull my hand away.
But those weren’t the cards I was dealt.
Valeria turns in my arms. “Nico, what if I stayed—”
“You know you can’t.”
Her lower lip trembles.
“I know,” she says, her voice breaking. She buries her face in my chest and chokes out a sob. “But I want to. I want to stay with you, Nico. I love you.”
White-hot rage courses through me. It’s not fair. My life has never been fair, but I’ve learned to swallow the poison and the rage, because I thought there was no other way to live. Now I have a reason—two reasons—to change everything, and I have to walk away.
“I can’t risk you getting hurt.” Swallow. “Either of you.”
Whatever fantasy I had about going back for her after my father’s death bleeds away.
Now that I know she’s carrying our child, I would fly her to the furthest reaches of the planet and never allow myself the smallest hope of seeing her again, if that’s what it meant to keep her safe from my father and any enemies that would follow.
Her voice is emptier than I’ve ever heard as she steps back, cheeks wet, and asks, “And your dad is going to accept that you have an heir running around?”
“He doesn’t have to know. He won’t be interested in you after I—” Get married to someone else. I nearly gag. I force myself to continue, “When his attentions are elsewhere. He’s dying, Valeria. I’ll keep him busy.”
“So, this is it?” Her voice is condemning, even in the center of half of her things she’s packed into suitcases.
“This is what you wanted.” I didn’t mean for it to come out harshly, but she flinches like I’ve struck her.
Hate sears into her teary expression.
“After everything,” she says venomously, “now you just let me go? I thought you loved me too. But you’re just giving up?”
I slap my fist against the wall. “There is no just with you!”
Valeria takes a step back, her eyes wide. Her hands instinctively raise to cover her belly. She’ll be a good mom.
“They’re trying to make me a don. Even if my father dies, there’s no universe where we can be together and let our children be free from this madness.
If it’s not him, it’ll be someone else threatening you both.
I am making the right choice for us—and you know it—you’ve known it since the start.
And I’m so fucking sorry that I didn’t listen to you.
But I don’t know how much it would’ve helped when my mind, body, and soul was, and always will be, yours.
” I’m sick with the desire to touch her, but I don’t let myself.
“I can’t prioritize my own selfish happiness. I can’t risk losing you.”
Her face goes stony. “And what if I don’t keep it?”
I think of the joy on her face when she looked at that little girl at the engagement party. In all the uncertainty of our lives, there’s one thing I can be sure of. She could no more get rid of our baby as she could cut off her own hand.
“You will have enough money to live as a rich woman for the rest of your life. You can do and choose as you see fit.”
“And who should I say their father was?”
“Tell them the truth. He was a criminal.”