50. Nicolai
CHAPTER FIFTY
NICOLAI
The clink of silverware, the hum of conversation, I let it all fade into the background, studying the scene before me.
Bria settled into her chair, watching with that ever-present amusement. My mother, refined and impassive, sipping her tea like she’s filing away every moment for later scrutiny. And Luna.
Luna in red. Looking gorgeous and commanding the room.
She knew exactly what she was doing when she chose it. The silk caresses her body like a second skin, and she won’t be told what to wear in our house.
I let her have her moment for now.
Beneath the table, my fingers press lightly against her thigh. She doesn’t so much as blink, and no one’s the wiser.
The conversation continues around us, Bria recounts their travels, and my mother offers quiet commentary where necessary.
I speak at the right moments and answer when prompted, but my mind is elsewhere. The estate is no longer ours alone. I have business to attend to. And Luna has secrets she thinks she’s hiding.
The meal concludes with routine farewells, my mother disappearing into the east wing, and Bria vanishing toward the courtyard.
Luna moves to stand, but I place a firm hand against her wrist.
“Come with me.”
She’s wary as she follows me down the quiet corridor toward the library. Then she steps inside, crossing her arms as she leans against the bar. “If this is about the dress, save your breath.”
I close the door behind us, turning to face her. “It’s not.”
“Then what?” I’m afraid she’s prepared for a fight that’s not coming. So, I close the distance between us. My wife is always on the defensive.
“You did well.” Her breath catches, shocked that I’m not angry. “They needed to see it. Proof that you’re not just wearing my name, you own it.”
Pride sizzles in her gaze, then I lean in. “But don’t take it too far.”
“Or what?” There’s that smart mouth again.
“You’ve already earned your place; there’s nothing left to prove.” I wait, letting that sink in. Then, my last warning. “If you forget, I’ll be the first and last to remind you.”
I tip her chin up with two fingers, and my mouth brushes hers, just long enough for her to realize this isn’t up for debate. I watch her for a moment longer. Then, without another word, I leave her standing there to mull it over before heading to my office. I have work to do.
Mateo is standing in front of my desk with his arms folded when I step inside. Which seems to be the norm in this house.
“What now?” I ask, slamming the door behind me.
“It’s Luna’s father.” His words land like a sucker punch.
“Say that again.” Mateo lets out a breath, fists sinking into his pockets.
“Carlo was just the middleman. The setup came from above, straight from the old man himself.”
Luna’s father. The same man who married her off to Gio without a second thought. The same man who demands respect and traditions, but never without wielding the knife behind it.
Mateo watches me, waiting for my reaction. I give him none.
“You’re sure?” I thought Thomas was the only one involved with the old man. but this takes it up a notch.
“I’m certain.”
“That thought just crossed your mind, too, didn’t it?” I ask.
“Yeah. And I don’t like where it’s leading.” Fuck. How long has Carlo been working for the old man, and why does D’Angelo want me dead?
“Then we address it. Stay here, I need to get Luna.” Mateo never touches me, but I’m concerned when he grabs my arm to stop me.
“Boss, are you sure you want to involve Luna?”
“She’s my wife, Mateo. If she knows something, I need to hear it from her.” And God help her if she’s been lying to me from the start.
Now that I’ve been blindsided, the estate feels different. Like I’ve been a pawn in my own game. The routines, the familiarity, they all feel like a backdrop to something darker. And the thought of Luna betraying me cuts deeper than I want to admit.
Luna had too much on her mind to sit idle in the library. When that happens, she either cooks or vanishes into the garden.
When I walk into the kitchen, she doesn’t even notice. So, I stand there, watching her work for a few minutes before I close the distance between us. “Come with me.”
“I’m busy.” I calmly slide the knife away from her fingertips, setting it down on the countertop.
“Now.” An agitated sigh leaves her lips, but she wipes her hands on a towel before following me out of the kitchen.
She follows me without a word, but I can feel the heat rolling off her. Every step behind me is deliberate, pissed. I don’t look back. I don’t need to; her silence says enough. I stop outside my office and open the door, waiting for her to step in first. Then, I shut the door behind us, locking it.
“You’re being dramatic,” Luna snaps, but there’s unease beneath it.
“Hardly. I know who set me up.” Silence. Then her eyes darken with suspicion.
“Who?” I let the words settle before I answer.
“Your father.” She sucks in a breath, her fists curling before she forces them open.
But Mateo doesn’t give her time to process. He pulls out his phone, tapping the screen before holding it up for her to see.
Carlo. The picture’s grainy, but it doesn’t matter. Luna stares at it, her expression is blank at first. Then, a sudden spark.
“I know him,” she murmurs. “Not well, but I remember him from when I was younger.”
Mateo and I exchange a glance. “How well, Luna? Did you ever see him with your father?”
“Maybe,” she admits. “He was around sometimes, never for long. Always in the background. My father never introduced me to his associates unless it served a purpose.”
If Carlo had been working for D’Angelo for years, then this was more than a business arrangement; it was deliberate.
“He was quiet,” she says softly. “The kind of man who never drew attention. I never thought much about him. But if he’s involved in this,” She lifts her eyes to mine. “Then my father’s reach is deeper than I imagined.”
Mateo bites out. “Carlo’s been after Nico before.”
“What are you talking about?” I exhale the memory vivid despite the years that have passed.
“Seventeen. A job for my father. A deal gone south, and Carlo was the one who tried to make sure I didn’t walk away.” Luna looks at Mateo, waiting.
“That’s why this isn’t just about D’Angelo,” Mateo says. “Carlo already failed once. This time, he was hoping to succeed, but he failed once again.”
Luna’s quiet, but there’s fire in her eyes. When she lifts her gaze to mine, something in it has changed.
She isn’t just angry. She’s ready to end this.