22. Nicholas
Nicholas
On the helicopter ride back to Miami, Nicholas saw nothing but blue water and felt his anger simmering beneath the surface.
Nicholas made the call before they'd cleared Tampa airspace—Michael's direct line, two rings, no preamble.
"I need to see you and Uncle Vincent when I land. It's important."
Michael didn't ask questions. "Let me reach out, we'll be here."
Nicholas put the phone away and stared at the horizon, letting his anger burn in a controlled way. He needed to keep it focused. Anger that ran too hot got people hurt. Focused anger got things done.
By eleven, he walked through the glass doors of Stratus Meridian. The blast of air conditioning felt like a reset. He skipped his own office and went straight to Michael’s. Sara looked up, saw his expression, and nodded toward the oak doors.
"They're waiting for you."
Both uncles were inside. Michael sat behind the desk. Vincent was on one of the couches. The mood was heavier than usual, and everyone could feel it.
"Tell us what's going on," Michael said.
Nicholas stayed standing. He gave them the basics: Olivia, the marriage, the move, and what happened that morning at the diner. He kept it brief. They didn’t need to hear all his feelings, and he didn’t have the patience to explain them.
"We were outside the diner when she hugged and kissed me. Whoever was watching saw it. We had barely touched our coffee when two men came to the table." He paused. "The shorter one, Little Frankie, said, so you're the asshole messing with her head."
Vincent's eyes narrowed. The name had landed somewhere; it was already known.
"I stood up and faced him. Can I help you?
He told me to stay away from Olivia—that she was married to a friend of his.
I told him I wasn't good at taking orders.
" Nicholas's jaw tightened at the memory.
"The bigger one pushed his jacket aside.
Gun in his waistband. Right there between the pancakes and the orange juice. "
He stopped. Let that sit.
"If Olivia hadn't been there, I was tempted to snap-kick him in the balls, take the gun, and smack him with it."
Vincent's voice came in immediately, firm and certain. "I'm glad you didn't. I know you can handle yourself, but this isn't your world, Nicholas. It's mine."
Michael leaned forward, pen tapping once on the desk. "What do we know about the husband and these people?"
"His family is in real estate—small strip centers. Brennan Construction and Management. Olivia told me his brother is crazy and dangerous."
Vincent sat up straight. "Devon Brennan?"
"Yes."
Michael smirked and said, "I know that company. I remember when they tried to outbid us for a strip center in Coral Gables?"
They lost the strip center. Amateurs.
Vincent stood up. When he did that, the mood in the room shifted. "Devon Brennan works with one of the New York families. Little Frankie is an associate. Give me a few days, and neither of them will bother you again."
"I can't wait a few days." Nicholas heard the edge in his own voice and didn't soften it. "I'm going back to Tampa tonight."
Michael studied him. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"I'm not leaving her there alone with these people lurking, thinking they can walk up to her whenever they want." His jaw was set. "No."
Something changed in Michael’s expression, a recognition Nicholas couldn’t quite name but could feel. His uncle picked up the desk phone. "Ask Grant to come in."
Grant walked in within a minute. He was their head of security, valued for his complete lack of drama. Michael explained the situation in four sentences. Grant listened without interrupting.
"I want two capable people with Nicholas until this is resolved," Michael said.
Grant turned to Nicholas. "What time are you heading back?"
"When we're done here."
"Chopper?"
"Yes."
"I'll have two men waiting when you land."
Nicholas nodded. "Thank you."
Vincent moved closer and put his hand on Nicholas’s shoulder, showing both affection and authority. "Stay away from any confrontation with these people if you can. I'll deal with Devon and Little Frankie. Do you know who the big one was?"
"No."
"I'll find out. And when I do, they'll understand what a serious mistake they made." His voice was completely cold.
Nicholas felt the full weight of the Marino name settle around him, not as a threat but as a shield between Olivia and whatever was coming. He looked at the three men who had shaped him and felt something deeper than gratitude.
"Thank you," he said. He paused at the door. "It would be better if none of this reached my mother."
Michael gave him the thin, knowing smile of a man who had protected this family from harder things. "This is our business. Don't worry."
Vincent's voice came last—low and final, the way a door sounds when it locks. "Nicholas. This conversation never happened. We will never discuss it again."
Not a suggestion.
Nicholas met his uncle's eyes and held them. "I understand."
Vincent nodded once. It was done.
Nicholas walked out with his jaw set, knowing things were already in motion behind him. He had a helicopter to catch and a woman waiting for him.
The Brennans were about to understand something important about the name Moretti.
He arrived in Tampa at three in the afternoon, greeted by the usual wall of heat and the sharp smell of jet fuel and hot asphalt.
He had called Olivia from the chopper, keeping it simple: meet me at the hotel after work. She said yes without asking why, which told him everything about her day.
The black SUV waited near the hangar. Two men got out, both broad-shouldered and moving with the calm of people who had nothing to prove. They introduced themselves as Jim and Dan. There were handshakes but no small talk. If Grant had sent them, they were exactly what Nicholas needed.
They got into the SUV, Nicholas in the back. "I want one of you outside Olivia's building," he said. "She'll leave her car in the company lot and walk to the hotel—it's three blocks. I want eyes on her the whole way."
Three blocks. Exposed the entire way.
He pulled up a photo on his phone of Olivia smiling, unguarded, the way she looked when she forgot to hold back, and sent it to both men. "That's her. Don't lose her."
They nodded. Dan put the car in drive.
At the hotel, Nicholas went up to the suite, changed, and came back down in fifteen minutes. He looked at Jim in the lobby. "Let's take a walk. I need to do a little shopping."
She arrived at 5:45.
When the door opened, something in the suite that had been wrong all day went right.
Nicholas didn’t say anything. He opened his arms, and she walked straight into them.
Her body fit against his as if she had always belonged there, her arms tight around him, her face pressed into his chest. He buried his face in her hair, breathed her in, and held her a moment longer than necessary.
Then he kissed her. Not gently. The kind of kiss that said I know what today cost you, and I'm here now.
He pulled back and looked at her. "How are you feeling? Did anything else happen today?"
She let out a long breath, the kind she had been holding in all day. "I was distracted and worried most of the day. But now, with you here, I feel so much better."
He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "Good. Are you hungry?"
"Starving," she admitted. "I haven't eaten anything all day."
"Lilac. Quiet table. Great wine."
She looked down at her work clothes. He could see the fatigue in her shoulders, the way the day still weighed on her. "I need a shower, and I want to change. All my things are at Lauren’s, so let me go there, and I can be back in an hour."
Nicholas smiled. He wasn't letting her out of his sight tonight. Not after Little Frankie.
"Why go all the way to Laurens when you can shower here?"
"I don't have anything to wear," she said, gesturing at her empty hands.
"You look gorgeous exactly as you are, and we're both hungry," he said. "But I think you might feel differently if you checked the bathroom first."
She gave him a look, both confused and curious.
"I left something in there for you. Just take a look. Trust me."
He followed her at a few paces, wanting to watch her find it.
Olivia stopped in the bathroom doorway.
Hanging on the closet hook was the black dress with the silver sash, the one from the boutique window weeks ago.
He remembered her stepping out of the dressing room in it while he struggled to find words.
Beneath it, a pair of four-inch silver Louboutins sat on their box, the red soles catching the light. Two shopping bags waited beside them.
She turned. The smile that crossed her face was the best thing he'd seen all day.
"I can't believe you did this."
"I had some extra time when I got in today," he said. "When I saw you in that dress at the store—watching how happy you looked, how confident—I knew I needed to see you in it again."
She moved toward the bags, her fingers trailing over the silk of the dress. "What's in the bags?"
"Accessories for the dress. And something for the morning."
She started pulling things out: black lace undergarments that made him look at the ceiling for a moment, then shorts, jeans, sneakers, a soft sweatshirt, and a T-shirt. Everything she would need. He had thought it all through on the chopper, which said a lot about his state of mind.
She spun around and kissed him, full of new energy and lighter than when she had walked in. The weight of the day seemed to lift from her shoulders.
"You're crazy. I can't believe you did this."
He pulled her close, the threat of the Brennans feeling very far away in this specific moment. "I can't wait to see you in it. And I'm already thinking about how much fun it'll be to take it off you."
She bit her lip, something sparking back to life in her eyes. "You better."
She stepped back, looked at the dress, and moved toward the bathroom door with a new confidence in her step. "Let me shower and get ready, or we'll never make it to dinner." A pause at the door. "You're going to need plenty of energy tonight."
Nicholas leaned against the doorframe and watched her disappear into the bathroom.
The day had been ugly. The situation was complicated. None of that had changed.
But she was here. She was safe. She was his, in every way that mattered.
For tonight, that was enough.