1. ~Nico~
1
~Nico~
Present Day
Honor. Loyalty. Blood.
Earn for the Family.
Bleed for the Family.
Live—and die—for the Family.
That was the credo that I lived by.
It had been instilled in me from an early age.
And so had all the brutality that came along with being the son of Marco Marchetti, the Boss of the Marchetti Syndicate.
I’d lived and breathed it.
I’d believed in it.
I’d espoused it and upheld it.
And now, if I wasn’t careful, I was going to fall by it.
I cursed under my breath, then took another drag of my smoke as I stood in the shadows watching the one thing that could break the malicious cycle.
At least temporarily.
Her.
The object of my fixation.
The focus of my obsession.
The target of my twisted games.
I watched her sleek, black Liberty Walk Lamborghini Gallardo, complete with gold rims, pull into the staff parking lot of her impressively successful nightclub, Luster.
She was right on time as usual, a stickler for punctuality, as I’d discovered from my research on her over the last three years.
Since that night.
That night she’d come for me.
In the most delectable way.
Beautifully brutal.
Magnificently twisted.
Mmm.
As she climbed out of her vehicle and approached the entrance doors, two of her security staff emerged from around the sides, rushing up to her.
She frowned at their urgency, but managed to keep it from the rest of her body language, her ability to remain professional and unruffled always impressing me.
I saw the moment they informed her of the little surprise I’d left for her, because those ethereal emerald eyes of hers narrowed dangerously.
That’s right, Caterina, show me your true nature.
The security guards opened the double doors and the mountain of peonies came into view, many spilling out in the process. There were thousands of them blocking the entryway into her club, a club that was supposed to open in under an hour for a special, high-profile night wherein she had a visiting and very famous DJ performing whose presence was slated to cement Luster as the place to be in the City of Tolhurst and beyond.
I watched her stunned reaction, taking great pleasure in it, and enjoying her trying to contain her rage and indignation at the same time that her favorite flowers had been used against her.
She started giving orders and instructions to her security staff and they hurried off to do her bidding, to start clearing the way so her club could open.
Unfortunately for her, despite her best efforts, there was no way it would open on time now. The logistics involved in clearing all that away wouldn’t allow for that.
She retrieved her phone from her pocket and started typing rapidly.
In the next moment, mine buzzed, and I pulled it out to find a text from her, as expected. As usually happened between us when we struck against one another, continuing our amusing war.
Caterina: Using my love of peonies against me. Two can play at that game. Watch this space, devil fucker.
I smiled to myself.
Nico: Can’t wait to see what you come up with.
Caterina: You’re gonna eat your words.
I’d rather eat you. All fucking over.
Nico: I don’t doubt it, knowing how vicious you can be.
Caterina: Only responding in kind.
Nico: It’s more than that. Still not ready to admit it yet?
Caterina: There’s nothing to admit.
Nico: Then let the games continue. Exactly what you want. Isn’t that right?
Caterina: Seems we need to add delusional to the rest of your psychotic tendencies.
Nico: Pot. Kettle.
Caterina: Burn in the fires of hell.
Nico: Only if you’ll burn with me.
I watched her sneer at her phone, then stuff it back into the pocket of her suit jacket.
As she started for the entrance doors, I drank her in one final time—at least for tonight.
Her wavy auburn hair that I remembered being so silky to the touch that night was in a half-up, half-down style that added an element of wildness to her otherwise chic and sophisticated look. Her black Versace pant suit with gold embellishments and a bustier beneath did her compact and curvy body amazing justice. She was wearing a pair of her favorite Vivier pumps, the way she moved in them giving off a commanding edge that I’d observed her developing more and more over the last few years.
She’d made a mark on the business world as she’d intended. She’d risen from the ashes of the deal I’d nixed for her with the steel factory and come out of it all the stronger. Fiercer. More determined than ever. What I’d done hadn’t just provided the space to my brother-in-arms to build his club, it had also pushed Caterina in ways that had been needed in order for her to survive and succeed with her father—unbeknownst to her—hellbent on stopping her progress and making her fail.
In fact, she’d done so well that she was slated to receive an award celebrating her as Young Entrepreneur of the Year at the Tolhurst Annual Business Forum in the next few weeks.
She’d always been scrappy, but she’d lacked the power years ago, because her father had kept his from her through his antiquated views on a woman’s role in our world.
That had most definitely been his loss, because since he’d driven her away, she’d thrived.
She really was something.
When I’d first taken note of her during her eighteenth birthday celebration wherein her father had invited all key figures across the three families—rather than her actual friends—as more of a business gathering than a party actually for her, it had been her demeanor that had drawn my attention.
She was a true beauty, without a doubt.
She had a natural grace about her.
A radiant sophistication.
And a softness.
The latter in my hands was dangerous.
I maimed with these hands.
I made my enemies scream with these hands.
I murdered with them.
And I got off on it too.
I was a brutal and twisted bastard.
Dangerous.
Monstrous.
I didn’t do softness.
Nor gentle and careful.
How fortunate it was that I’d discovered there’d been much more to Caterina Leone than the impression that she’d put forth back then.
A fuck of a lot more.
In her rage, she’d unwittingly revealed it to me that night at Il Forno .
I’d never had any woman come close to meeting me on my level.
When things had taken a sexual turn that night, I’d expected her to surrender to me like the rest.
Instead, she’d seen it as a challenge and risen to it and even fought me for control and dominance.
She’d gotten off on the depravity that I’d subjected her to.
She’d been a fucking vision, unleashing her true fucked-up nature all over me, connecting with the same in me in a way I’d never seen coming. A way I’d never thought possible, honestly.
And so, that night, I’d marked her.
Mmm.
I stubbed out my smoke and pocketed my lighter as I watched her disappear inside.
It wouldn’t be long now.
She was primed.
Almost ready for me.
And then I’d finally stake my claim.
Patience was certainly a virtue, one I possessed in spades, something that had proven invaluable to me as Capo.
I turned to go now that she’d headed inside, only to pull up short at the sound of crunching footsteps coming from the tree line.
Instinctively, my fingers brushed the butt of my Sig Sauer at my hip beneath my leather jacket, only for me to drop my hand as Milo came into view, his mammoth form emerging through the trees.
His lips lifted as he looked between me and Luster. “Still stalking the little princess, I see.”
“Merely ensuring my gift was well-received.”
He came closer, stopping in front of me and shaking his head in disapproval, as he did whenever I struck against Caterina. “Three years and you still haven’t grown tired of it.”
“I’m nothing if not persistent.”
His eyebrows rose as a security guard emerged from the entrance doors carrying a whole lot of flowers, the open doors giving him a partial view of the rest of my gift within. “Another so-called strike, hmm?”
“So-called?”
“Come on, brother, you’re more the type to ransack her penthouse apartment, set one of her businesses on fire, extort her clients and patrons, raid her lounges, send bullets flying through the nightclub, frame her for drug dealing inside said club. Not what you’ve been doing with sticking a bloodied knife in her apartment door, slashing her tires and damaging her paint job, sending her a teddy bear smeared in blood, then the severed finger thing.”
“The severed finger thing served two purposes. The fool it belonged to tried to steal from us.”
“Nico, my point is, this is your twisted version of flirting.”
“Foreplay, actually.”
“Who’s playing with raging flames now?”
I rolled my eyes. I knew me recounting every detail of what had happened in the Il Forno bathroom would come back to bite me. I’d just been so shocked and taken with it that the words had come spilling forth before I could stop them. I was known for controlling information and carefully disseminating it, only what absolutely needed to be known at specific times and to specific people. But that had proven to be the exception. Just like she was proving to be in many ways.
“Everything is under control.”
“You taking a real liking to someone isn’t exactly a run-of-the-mill thing.”
I scoffed. “Taking a liking to someone?”
“Well, for you, it comes out in much more fucked-up ways. Like obsessive fixation, stalking, and these messed-up games you’ve been playing with her for the last three years.”
Enough of this. “Did you track me here for a reason?”
“I didn’t have to do much tracking. I know when you give me the slip, it’s so you can engage in your stalking activities with Caterina.”
“Milo,” I growled.
“Fine, yes, I came here because Rocco just got word that Julian is back in the city. He’s been spotted at Nocturne.”
“He was supposed to come to me the moment he set foot back in Tolhurst.”
“Yeah, I know he fucking was.”
I noted his bitter tone. Not to mention the way he’d looked so uncomfortable reporting to me that Julian was at the club. Not just instead of coming to me for business reasons, but instead of coming to him for reasons that were a whole lot more personal.
I grunted and started for the side street where I’d parked my Ferrari, Milo moving with my movements in that automatic way of his, a habit he’d picked up from operating as my guard.
He was a lot more than that, though.
I considered him my second.
And on a more personal level, he was my brother-in-arms.
He had been since we’d bonded when his father had been Underboss and through our time attending private school and college together.
The latter also included Julian Carver. The third to our close-knit group.
Fucking wildcard.
That was the last thing we needed right now.
I knew Julian could tamper that down when he wanted and I was going to make damn sure he did so where this was concerned.
He should have come to me as soon as he’d set foot back in the city.
Given what was at stake, he absolutely knew I would be pissed at him for failing to do that.
With anyone else, I’d consider it them challenging me.
But that wasn’t the case with Julian.
No. This stemmed from his issues.
“Rocco said Julian’s not in his office.”
“He’s using the facilities. Yes, I figured.”
“Barging in on whatever he’s immersed in won’t go over well.”
I eyed him beside me, noting his lips twisting with distaste. He knew this was necessary, yet he was resisting what needed to be done. Highly unlike him. It didn’t take much, knowing his relationship with Julian, to read between the lines. “Hang back if you like. I’ll handle it.”
“No,” he said. “I’m at your side, no matter what.”
“That’s never in question. But leave this one to me.”
We didn’t need any unnecessary complications—or drama, as Julian was known for bringing to the table when he was highly stressed.
Things were reaching a tipping point.
A lot was coming wherein every detail needed to be managed, manipulated and calculated precisely. If any little thing was out of place, it could be catastrophic.
And we could all very well fall.