Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
NICO
Fuck.
No puedo más.
The idea that she could back out, that she’d said she couldn’t do it anymore, made my heart racket inside. I’d learned to drown my emotions a long time ago. Nothing made my heart race anymore. But somehow, she took hold of my control and flipped it over like a twisted joke.
She couldn’t do it anymore? She didn’t have a fucking choice. I’d made sure of it. I’d burn in the pit of hell for bringing up her sister. Even when the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her again. But I was a monster this close to having her. Fuck if I’d let her mess that up.
One fucking month. That was all I wanted.
Did I deserve it? Absolutely fucking not.
But I was selfish enough to want it, anyway.
The universe didn’t have enough space for me to write down how much I wanted that woman, even if each digit occupied the space of a single atom.
Trying to forget her for eleven fucking years had only aggravated my need for her.
Her soft hair tangled in my hands. Her moans sinking into my soul.
Those moles, that were my favorite constellation.
My north that would bring me home. Thirteen pixels.
Pretty little mocha dots. Three of them smudged almost into a hexagon.
The others spattered around them. Strategically placed just three inches away from her pussy.
Fuck the dress. She could get married covered in flour. I didn’t give a fuck anymore. I wanted to spend my last days buried inside her. All seven hundred and thirty hours of it.
It annoyed me that my hands shook when I called the mayor. That my weakness showed in the timbre of my voice when I demanded he get me an emergency license.
Agitation coiled inside me while I sat in my office with darkness my only company.
The minutes ticked into hours, but my breathing slowed as I allowed mathematics to soothe my distress.
There was no fucking way I could call Enzo until I had calmed down.
I had to restart my calculations one too many times.
Fuck. It took me two more tries before I could roll off the agitation.
Before my breathing slowed, and it didn’t feel like I was suffocating.
I cracked my neck. Rolled my shoulders. Only then did I pick up the phone and call my brother.
The ocean was the color of my eyes. The sky reflected it.
Neither drew my gaze. My attention was on the girl lying a few feet away from the window.
A beige towel spread out and contrasting on top of it in a bright fuchsia bikini, Anna lay holding up a book against the glare of the sun, one ankle resting on her bent knee.
Her bikini had tassels wrapping around the edges, with tiny pom-poms dancing at the ends.
Each time the breeze shifted, it played maddeningly with my senses.
Behind her, Mara played, building a sand castle that refused to stay up.
She said something. Anna tipped her head back and, with a groan of frustration, turned around to face her sister.
Smooth tanned skin. It shone on the beach like unparalleled precious velvet.
Playing hide and seek with the shadow and her movements, I got a glimpse of her moles.
They were just a darker spot. The distance was too substantial to know exactly what it was.
But what I would do to see it up close. My hand fisted.
Holding me back. What if I walked downstairs?
Took the rough black stone steps to the beach, walked in the golden sun, and sank onto my knees.
Would she look at me like she looked at that asshole, Joel, who was her constant shadow?
Would she speak? Laugh? Let me play with the pom-poms. Kiss her moles?
Suck it into my mouth? I drew in a sharp breath.
Held it in. The need was so intense that my feet shifted in the direction of the beach.
Tapping my fingers against my thigh, I prayed for numbers and distraction.
I couldn’t do it to Juan. He’d kill me. If my father didn’t get to me first. She wasn’t Italian.
She wasn’t from the Cosa Nostra. Good enough to fuck, that was all.
But I couldn’t do it without wanting more.
So much more. For nine months, I’d been watching her.
Fuck. Every time I saw her, my chest burned with a hollow ache.
What I would do to… my senses alerted me to his presence.
Yet again, I’d been too distracted to see him come in.
I didn’t shift my gaze away. I was many things, but I wasn’t a liar. Especially with him.
“You shouldn’t be looking at my daughter like that.”
His reprimand burned me. But I couldn’t pull my gaze away. She was a fucking magnet to my heart.
Behind me, he moved into the room. The thud on the desk told me he’d dropped the ledgers onto it. “Your father will never allow it.”
The unsaid words hummed in the air. Hope flared in my chest. Below me, Anna tossed her book and sat up.
Tassels and pom-poms danced to the rhythm of my heart.
I continued counting to calm my breathing.
When I finally spoke, my voice was controlled.
A million-dollar question rolled with it. “Would you?”
He didn’t answer. Moved away from the desk. On the edge of the wall, the gold-rimmed mirror he’d inherited from his mother hung innocently. I caught his reflection in it. The barest of smiles tugged at his lips.
My breath escaped in a rush. The next time I came, I would walk downstairs, take those steps, let my feet sink into the sand and drop to my knees next to the girl I’d dreamed of for nine months.
Except the next time, I didn’t come willingly into his office.
I was taken from my bed and pushed into the car.
After that day, I never slept without a gun.
A weapon would have prevented me from losing everything.
I lost the father who’d donated his sperm because I never outgrew that hatred he put in me.
I lost Juan, my idol, my master. I lost my girl.
Once she saw me with that gun pointed at her father…
what was there to save me? With that, I lost my future.
A stream of light on the wall broke the darkness in the room. A shadow framed the doorway.
“You did that on purpose.” My tone was bitter. Before she came into my house, I was surviving. Barely. But surviving.
“You’ll have to be more specific.” Magda walked in, coffee in hand. “I do everything on purpose.” She set the coffee before me.
To piss her off, I yanked my drawer open and pulled out a tumbler and a bottle of whiskey. She shook her head in disapproval.
“You hired her on purpose.”
She snatched the whiskey before I could open it. I glared at her, but because she was Magda, I allowed it.
“I hired her to help me.” I allowed so many things for her.
She had known me for far too long. She’d picked up the pieces eleven years ago.
When I’d gone through a drinking phase, she’d slowly but meticulously gotten rid of it by replacing it with coffee.
“But you seem to have mistaken the purpose and helped yourself to her.”
I didn’t have an answer for that. She pushed the coffee toward me. I wanted to smash it across the room, thump my fists on my chest, and scream. She was always mine. Instead, I forced my hands to steady, reached for the cup, and downed it in one go. “How did you know it was her?”
I hired everyone who entered our homes. The one time I allowed Magda to do it, she let death itself walk into my house. Even if I had to help her to accomplish it. I’d have to keep both those facts away from Magda’s sharp ears.
“I know you think everyone around you is an idiot, Nico, but once in a while you should give us some credit. It wasn’t rocket science.
Her name was a big hint. If I had a dollar for the number of times you were talking about Anna Vales in your drunken stupors, I’d be a rich woman and not working for you. ”
“You’re a rich woman and you continue to work for me.”
She shrugged. “Well, maybe I can stop now.”
“I hope you’re happy.”
She took the empty cup from my hand. “Oh Nico, I’m happy if you’re happy.”
I watched her go. “Don’t retire yet.”
She turned around. “Why?”
“Give it a month.”
She took a step toward me. Worry lined her forehead. “What’re you going to do?”
“Nothing.” That was the whole point. I would do nothing to defend myself. “Just give it some time.” She remained there. Staring at me, trying to pry answers I wouldn’t give her. “Anna will need time to adjust,” I lied.
Satisfied, she nodded.
When the door closed softly behind her, I sank into my chair with relief. Anna would have to fire Magda once she took over. She’d never forgive her. But then again, why would my wife hang around in New York if I were dead?