Chapter 8
Nicole
I gently tuck Jaime into bed, noting the weariness etched on his face from his long day at school. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, soothing light across the room. As I begin reading the story he's chosen, his eyes grow heavier with each word. He's already asleep before I reach the halfway point, his breathing soft and steady.
Closing the book, I look up and find Shane standing in the doorway, watching me. He doesn't say anything, but his gaze is intense. He's soaked from the rain, his dark blue shirt clinging to his muscular chest, making it impossible not to notice.
"Shane, I didn't know you were here," I say, my voice low to avoid waking Jaime.
"I was just enjoying the story," Shane replies, his eyes still fixed on me.
"You're all wet."
"Yeah, it's pouring outside."
I glance out Jaime's window, finally noticing the rain running down the glass. How did I not see it before?
"Do you want to have a cup of coffee with me?" he asks.
"Don't you want to change first?"
"Nah, it's just a bit of water. I'd rather warm up first."
"It's a little late for coffee," I respond, hesitating. "I think I'm a bit…"
"Oh, come on. I know how much you love coffee. I've already started brewing it. Don't make me waste the beans," he says with a teasing smile.
"Okay," I agree, unable to resist. A cup of coffee won't hurt.
Leaving Jaime peacefully asleep, I follow Shane to the living room. Two steaming coffee mugs wait for us on the table near the couch. As I settle onto the sofa beside him, the calming aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills my senses. The rain continues its rhythmic dance against the windows, creating an intimate backdrop that feels almost surreal. Shane takes a slow sip from his mug, his eyes never leaving mine. An unspoken tension between us has been building for weeks, and is now impossible to ignore. Under his gaze, my pulse quickens, and the warmth of the coffee does little to calm the rising heat within me.
"You know," Shane begins, his voice low and smooth, "I've been thinking a lot about what you said the other day… about being more present for Jaime."
I nod, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me. I'm glad he's taken my words to heart, but the intensity in his eyes makes it hard to focus on anything else.
"I meant it," I reply softly, cradling the mug in my hands. "He needs you, Shane. You're the only family he has left."
Shane reaches over, placing his hand on mine. The touch is gentle, but it sends a jolt through me. "And what about you, Nicole?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "What do you need?"
The question catches me off guard. I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. The room feels smaller, the air thicker, as if we're the only two people in the world. I'm suddenly aware of how close he is, the way his body leans toward mine, the warmth of his hand still resting on mine.
Shane leans in closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "You don't have to hide anything from me," he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear. "I'm here… if you want me to be."
My heart races, my mind a whirl of conflicting thoughts. I should pull away, remind myself of the boundaries we've carefully maintained, but the pull toward him is too strong, the desire too overwhelming.
I look into his eyes, seeing the same yearning reflected back at me. It's a moment of surrender, a recognition of the feelings we've both been denying. Slowly, I lean in, closing the distance between us. Our lips meet, softly at first, but the kiss quickly deepens. Shane's hand slides up to cup my cheek, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer. The mug slips from my grasp, forgotten, as I wrap my arms around him, pulling him against me.
Shane's hands begin to roam, tracing the contours of my back before sliding under my shirt. I shiver at the contact, my body responding eagerly to his touch. The world outside fades away, leaving only the heat between us, the intoxicating pull of desire. But just as Shane's hands start to slide lower, I gasp, pulling back suddenly. My breath comes in ragged pants, my heart pounding in my chest as I stare at him, the reality of what we're about to do crashing down on me.
Shane's eyes are dark with desire, but there's also a hint of concern. "Nicole?" he asks, his voice husky. "Are you okay?"
I almost say no. I almost tell him we can't do this. I almost do as I've told myself I would if this situation ever came about. Almost. But then I push myself forward, rejoining his lips with mine. I feel the wetness of his shirt pressing against my own, the grasp of his hands on the small of my back as I pull him closer. I fumble with the buttons of his shirt, needing to see and touch the muscles that have been tempting me this whole time. As I undo the last button and open his shirt, his lips trail down my chin and onto my neck. The warmth of his mouth against my skin sends shivers through me, and his hands slide up my thighs. This is it , I think— no turning back now . I grasp his pants, undo the button, and slide down the zipper, all the while feeling the elastic of my panties sliding over my buttocks. The warmth of Shane's bare body presses against mine, his arousal brushing against my inner thighs. He looks into my eyes once more, and as he kisses me, I feel my legs part before—
I wake up, the dream dissolving into the soothing symphony of raindrops falling on the balcony outside my window. The gentle taps echo in my bedroom as I clutch my pillow, my body still hot from the vivid dream. The look on Shane's face, the heat of his breath, are too fresh in my mind for me to move. I lie there with my eyes closed a bit longer, wanting to savor the feeling before reality takes hold.
Eventually, I turn and glance at the clock on the nightstand. I panic at first, realizing how late I am when I see the clock reads 9 a.m. Jaime's breakfast. But as I swing my feet over the bedside and hover them over the furry white slippers resting on the carpet below, I realize this Sunday is my day off. I go with my first instinct and instantly fall back, sinking into my pillow and shutting my eyes. But a tiny, nagging voice in my head urges me up.
I should check on them , I think to myself.
Normally, when I take time off, Shane calls the old nanny to watch Jaime. But lately, he's been managing entire days by himself. He's getting better at this guardian thing, though he still needs a little help now and then.
I slide out of bed, slip on my cozy slippers, and make my way to the bedroom door. Before stepping out, I quickly glimpse myself in the mirror—something I rarely bother to do this early unless I've someplace to be. Mornings used to be only Jaime and me, but now, with Shane here, the dynamics have shifted, and as a result, so has my routine. As I step into the upstairs hall, a soft, ethereal gray light filters in through the windows, creating a serene ambiance that reminds me of my parents' house in Italy. I've always loved rainy days.
I hear Shane's voice downstairs in the dining room, though it's muffled. Curiosity gets the better of me, so I quietly go to the kitchen and peek through the doorway. There he is, helping Jaime with his homework. Jaime is at the dining table, focused on his notebook and science textbook while Shane patiently guides him.
My heart and mind are always in turmoil, and I constantly worry about my brother Giovanni. But in this moment, I find a fleeting sense of peace. Seeing Jaime so happy and content while bonding with his Uncle Shane brings a warmth I haven't felt in a long time.
Shane suddenly turns and catches me watching. I offer him a smile, and he responds with a broad, welcoming grin that radiates genuine joy just from seeing someone. It's disarming, and I quickly retreat into the kitchen, closing the door behind me.
There's something different in Shane's eyes lately. His glances linger longer, and they carry a sincerity that wasn't there before. They're enchanting, almost magnetic—inviting me in, tempting me to get closer. It's getting harder to ignore. I've done my best to avoid being alone with him or staring too long, careful not to give him the wrong idea. But with the urges and dreams getting stronger and more frequent, resisting feels like going against my very nature.
I know I can't keep hiding my attraction to him forever. The urge to flirt back is becoming a need, and the desire to let my guard down grows stronger with each passing day. But my thoughts are too heavy, weighed down by the situation with Giovanni. I'm here to settle a debt, not to complicate things by getting involved with my boss.
As if the universe is giving me a sign, my phone buzzes in the pocket of my black satin pajama bottoms. I glance at the screen—an unknown number. My heart races. I quickly leave the kitchen, pressing the answer button just as I reach the stairs, afraid the call might disconnect if I let it ring too long.
"Hello," I say, my voice a mix of anticipation and fear as I hurry up the stairs, desperate for the isolation of my bedroom.
" Ciao . Is this Nicola?" a female voice responds in Italian. Relief washes over me; it's a good sign. "I was worried to call you back. It's Francesca. Are you okay to talk?" the woman asks.
"Yes," I answer, my voice trembling slightly with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. "Please, Francesca, have you heard anything about Giovanni? I really need to know."
There's a pause, and I hold my breath, fearing the worst. "No, not in some time," Francesca finally says, her tone careful. "But I have a friend who knew your parents. She says she saw him about three months ago in Siena, one of the few places the Serpenti avoid."
I exhale, relief washing over me like a wave. Three months—it's not as recent as I'd like, but it's better than the silence I've endured for nearly nine months.
"I've checked the lists of the dead and missing," Francesca continues, her voice steady, trying to reassure me. "Giovanni's name isn't on any of them."
The words should comfort me, but instead, they leave me feeling as if I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground beneath me unstable. I'm not any closer to finding him, but at least he's not on one of those lists. It's a small victory in a sea of uncertainty.
"Thank you, Francesca," I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Nicola," she says softly, "this is good news. It means he's likely in hiding, and you wouldn't want him to be seen right now, not with how things are here. The violence has spread from Naples. It's bad, Nicola. The Serpenti are trying to control everything, and they're ruthless. They're wiping out anyone who stands in their way."
A shiver runs down my spine. The danger back home is more real than ever, and Giovanni is right in the middle of it. I have to find him before it's too late.
"Francesca," I say, my voice firm despite the fear gnawing at me, "your friend—can you contact her again? I need any information she can find about Giovanni."
There's a brief silence before Francesca replies, her tone serious. "I can try, but you have to understand, Nicola, asking about people like your brother, especially now... it's dangerous. The Avvoltoi and the Serpenti are like ghosts, lurking in the shadows, ears everywhere. Even talking about them could put us at risk. And these things... they cost money."
"I understand," I respond, the urgency in my voice undeniable. "How much will it take?"
"We won't discuss that over the phone," Francesca replies, her voice lowering. "But I'll see what I can do. I'll tap some shoulders and find out what's possible. This number is good?"
"Yes," I confirm. "Call me anytime. I'll get the money. Just... please find him."
"I will try, Nicola," she promises, and there's a softness in her tone that almost makes me feel like I'm back home, safe. "But remember, be careful. Stay out of Italy. Things are too dangerous now."
"Thank you, Francesca," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "And... how are you? I'm so sorry I'm caught up in my own things; I didn't ask."
Francesca pauses momentarily, then replies, "I survive, staying off the streets at night. Doing some favors for the wrong people now and then. But you know my family—we fear no one."
"I'm glad you're doing well," I say, a wave of guilt washing over me for not asking sooner.
"Me too. And you make sure you keep doing well. Stay out of Italy, and I will try my best to find your brother."
"I'll be waiting for your call, and I'll get the money."
"I know. Goodbye, Nicola."
The phone clicks off. I walk out of the closet and collapse onto my bed, the weight of the conversation pressing down on me. My savings are depleted, and while Shane pays me well, it will be a while before I have enough to make a difference. I need the money now.
I lie there, staring at the ceiling as the weight of the conversation with Francesca sinks in. My thoughts spiral, my anxiety mixing with relief, leaving me feeling both grounded and unmoored. Giovanni might still be safe, but for how long? And what will it take to find him?
A soft knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts.
"Yes?" I call out.
"It's me," Shane responds.
"You can come in," I say.
Shane steps in, his presence filling the space with a quiet warmth. "Hey," he says, leaning against the doorframe with an easy smile. "You okay?"
I push myself up to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to shake off the heavy emotions. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... a lot on my mind."
Shane nods, his gaze lingering on me as if he can see right through the facade I'm putting up. "I noticed you watching earlier... when I was helping Jaime with his homework. You were standing there, looking like you wanted to say something."
His observation catches me off guard. I force a small laugh, hoping to brush it off. "I was just making sure everything was going smoothly. You know, focused on Jaime."
He steps closer, the distance between us shrinking. "Focused on Jaime... or something else?"
The way he says it, with a slight tilt of his head and a softness in his eyes, makes my heart skip a beat. I can feel my defenses starting to crumble. "Shane, I..."
He doesn't push. He waits, giving me space to find the right words. But I'm unsure of what to say. I like him more than I should. But there's too much at stake.
Finally, I admit, "I'm just worried about my brother." My voice comes out quieter than I intended. "I haven't heard from him in a while, and I feel like I should do more to help him."
Shane's expression shifts. He seems to understand, and he's concerned. "I get it. Family is important. It sounds like you're carrying a lot on your shoulders."
I nod, grateful he doesn't pry too much. He's curious, sensing there's more to my story. Instead of pressing, he offers a hopeful smile. "If you need to talk, I'm here. No pressure."
I return his smile, but it feels forced. "Thanks, Shane. That means a lot."
He hesitates as if there's more he wants to say, but then he changes his mind. Instead, he brings up a new topic. "I know this might come out of nowhere, but if you need an advance on your pay, I can arrange that."
His offer surprises me, and I can't help but wonder if he knows more than he's revealing. "An advance?" I ask.
He leans back slightly and confirms, "Yeah. In case your brother needs help, or for any other reason. I understand how stressful things can get."
I pause for a moment, then agree with a nod. "Actually, that would be really helpful. It's for... just in case something comes up with Giovanni."
Without hesitation, he assures me, "Of course. I'll take care of it tomorrow."
"Thank you, Shane," I say, my voice filled with genuine gratitude.
"Don't worry about that," he says, waving it off like it's no big deal. "Just focus on what you need to do."
We stand there momentarily, the silence between us comfortable yet heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Shane steps back a bit. "I should give you some space," he says.
"Yeah," I agree, watching as he turns to leave. But before he does, he glances back at me, his eyes filled with something I can't quite place—something between hope and hesitation.
"I'm around if you need me," he says softly.
"Thanks, Shane," I reply, my heart still racing long after he's gone.
The weight of everything starts to settle in. My thoughts drift back to Giovanni, the uncertain future, and the complicated feelings I have for Shane. I don't know how this will unfold, but one thing is clear—I'm in deeper than I ever planned to be.
And there's no turning back now.