13. Nico
Nico
“Are you looking for a date, handsome?” the prostitute asks as I roll down the window. She flinches when the streetlight reveals my scar.
“I’m looking for Violet.”
“That old junkie? Rich men like you typically go there for your fun.” She jerks her chin toward The Gentleman’s Post.
“I’m not your typical rich man. Do you know where she is?”
The woman shrugs, leaning against my car and thrusting her breasts forward. “I’m a much better party than her.”
“I don’t doubt it, but I want to speak to Violet.”
I pass her a hundred which she quickly pockets. “Haven’t seen her in over a week. She disappears sometimes, and I always wonder if she finally OD’d, but then she’ll turn back up again.”
“Hmm. I’d rather she not know I want to speak to her.” The woman looks back over her shoulder uncertainly. “Is your pimp watching us?” She nods, and I hand her another hundred. “Tell him his girls only walk our streets with my permission, and I’ll be keeping a close eye on this area.”
She gulps. “I should’ve recognized you, Mr. Morelli. I’ll tell him.”
After she’s scurried off, I motion to the guard at the door of the brothel to come over. “Yeah, Nico?”
“The van I mentioned last time I was here, have you noticed it again?”
“One other time. Couldn’t get the plates then either.”
“Tell the other guards. I want that plate number.”
The front door opens as we’re finished talking, and Giacomo Barzetti steps outside. Guess that’s one way to mourn his uncle’s untimely passing and the declaration of war. “Nico? What are you doing here?”
Why does he sound guilty? I’m not his wife. “Looking around.”
“Oh. Are you coming inside? We could share a bottle, find a girl or three to amuse us.”
I could do that. Bad blood has been stirring between us and the Barzetti family for a while, even before I officially took over as Capo. Spending time with Giacomo socially might repair some of the damage. Or at least give me a better idea about their loyalty but…
“No, I’m not coming inside,” I answer, rolling up my window and heading to my parents’ house. I need to see Matilde.
***
“Where the fuck is she?” I repeat in a low voice to the guard at my parents’ home.
“I’m not sure, Capo, but Matilde has been going to the movies lately when your mother doesn’t need her… with Primo.”
To the movies with Primo. “How sweet,” I rasp, coldly.
Pulling out my phone, I ask which car they took. All our cars have trackers on them. Rage bursts all through me seeing its current location. That’s not the local cineplex. Little sneak.
Fear drives my anger as much as the deception and my inconvenient jealousy though. I need to know where she is at all times.
“Nico, is that you?” my mother calls from upstairs. Fuck. I’m supposed to be here to pick up the twins.
“It is, but I need to go back out, Mother. Something came up unexpectedly.”
Guilt flickers – a shitty son, a shitty father – but something dark and twisted swallows it. Primo took her to the movies. I’m going to eviscerate that boy.
***
I spot them emerging from a pizza place on the Near West Side. It looks like they’re arguing. A little lovers’ spat. That dark and twisted feeling intensifies.
“Follow in my SUV,” I order the guard I brought along before getting out.
Primo’s eyes widen with fear when he sees me. “Capo…”
Matilde’s eyes are narrowed with anger. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ll deal with you later,” I tell Primo, gesturing for him to drive. Grabbing her arm, I drag her toward the back of the limo. “Get in.” I don’t give her a chance to refuse me. Pushing her into the backseat, I climb in after her. “My house,” I bark at Primo, who quickly obeys.
“I can’t go to your house, sir. I help your mother with-”
“School, my parents’ house or mine, those are the only places you're permitted to go right now. And I’ve told you to call me Nico.”
“I am not a prisoner, sir.”
“I swear, you will drive me crazy, Matilde."
"Come faccio? I do not drive you anywhere!"
It takes me a moment and then it's everything I can do not to burst out laughing. This girl. "After everything you went through, you put yourself at risk-”
“You do not care about that! You-”
“We’re at war, goddammit! Do you have a fucking clue what that means?”
Alessio sheltered his sister. I expected no less.
He’s chosen to shield the bodyguard, too.
I suspected he would. It left me with little choice.
I would’ve lost the respect of my underbosses and captains if I had backed down during that meeting.
I can’t have my strength questioned this early in my reign. My family would never be safe.
I’d thought we might intercept a few drug shipments or some such shit and then sit down again once Barzetti’s stopped bleating about Ritchie and settle things, Capo to Capo. It’s what Vicini wants, too.
But Dante… my fucking reckless, devil of a brother, has complicated things in a major way. As soon as Alessio finds out, he’ll come at us with everything he’s got. My territory must be strong and ready. It’s no time for trips to the movies.
“I know what mafia war means,” she huffs.
“Were many battles fought on your little sheep farm?”
She defiantly lifts her chin. It always surprises me how she doesn’t shy away from looking me in the eye when most women and even many men avoid it. “Primo was with me. He can protect me.”
I despise hearing her say his name, especially when she won’t use mine. “Primo is lucky I don’t slit his throat right now.” The privacy screen is down, and the car swerves. “If you wreck, I’ll peel off every last one of your fingernails and toenails with a pair of pliers, boy.”
With an audible gulp, Primo turns his attention back to his driving.
“Sei uno stronzo,” Matilde mutters under her breath.
“I’m an asshole? I’m trying to protect you, you little brat.”
“Protect me? Are you going to protect me the same way you protected…”
Her lips snap together, but I know what she was thinking. “The same way I protected my wife, is that what you were going to say?” I growl, utterly furious. And ashamed.
She pales, quickly shaking her head. “No, that is not what I… I know you could not stop… I did not mean-”
“I would advise you to be quiet before I turn you over my knee for breaking my rules.”
I can practically see the translated words registering in her pretty head. Her face goes from ghostly pale to cherry pink, and she stares back at me with her mouth hanging open, her plump lips forming a perfect O. Fuck me, if the mere sight doesn’t make me want to follow through on that threat.
***
I swore to myself after killing Sil, Jr. and what it meant for my little sister that I would never let wrath guide my actions again. Even Margareta with her sharp claws and annoying games never succeeded in provoking me. Perhaps that was another reason she hated me. I simply didn’t care.
So how is it that Matilde manages to rile me up with such ease?
I exhale slowly when we reach the house, struggling to harness my temper. The last thirty minutes of tense silence while sitting in traffic beside a flushed Matilde would test any man’s limits. She’s infuriating. And too fucking tempting by far.
Primo jumps out of the driver’s seat like it’s on fire, waiting for orders, but my little mutineer isn’t finished pushing boundaries. “Matilde, get out.”
“I want to go home. I study for class.” She folds her arms over her chest as if it’s decided.
"Fuck this." I reach in and grab her, ignoring her shriek of protest as I hoist her over my shoulder. She’s strong, a farm girl who’s not afraid to fight back, but she’s no match for me. I carry her inside with Primo mutely following.
The other guard who drove my car is smirking at the spectacle as he opens the front door. Oh, that will not do. “Both of you, wait right here,” I tell the men as we step inside.
Still carrying a wriggling Matilde, I drag a chair from the sitting room into the foyer and place it in the corner. “Naughty girls get time-out,” I say, plopping her down in it.
She hisses like an angry kitten, but she’s more lethal by far. Quicker than I’d believe possible, she whips out the knife she took from me, holding it between us. Her finger hovers over the button, but she hesitates.
I don’t.
Covering her hand with mine, I breathe in her anger and fear like an intoxicant.
She’s so wild and enchanting, a goddess among mere mortals.
Tension ripples off her in waves, and a different variety of tension fills me.
I lean in close, dizzy… starving… all from the faint scent of peaches and those eyes like melted honey.
“Go ahead. Show me how you deploy the blade.”
With her eyes burning fiercely in challenge, she does, and I nod with approval at her handling.
“Very good. You said your father taught you. What else did he teach you about knives? Did he teach you what it’s like to cut a man? To carve him up like a pie? Do you have the stomach for that? Do you want to cut me?” I might let you.
The fire flickers, and she stares at my mouth before shaking her head. “No,” she whispers.
“No,” I repeat, pulling my own knife. Her eyes widen with terror, but I turn to face the two guards, showing them the blade. “From this night on, any man who takes this girl anywhere without my permission will lose an eye. Tell the others.”
They nod, knowing I’m serious.
“You can’t do that!” Matilde shouts from behind me, her indefatigable spirit not dampened for an instant.
I turn her chair around so she’s facing the corner. “I am Capo, and I can, and time-out means not talking,” I rasp in her ear. “Or do you require a more severe punishment?”
Her satiny cheek blazes with warmth. I long to stroke my knuckles over it and drag my fingers through her soft, thick hair, but I return my attention to Primo and the other guard.
“The war makes it necessary for me to change security arrangements and keep my children close. Their nanny will be moving into my house. Tonight.”
“I will not.”
“She will.”
Both men hurry off when I instruct them to leave. I’ll have to take her with me to fetch the children and her clothes, but I’m not going to complain about an extra hour in her company… even if she drives me crazy.
But before I can tell Matilde my plan – and probably carry her kicking and screaming to my car – the front door bursts open. I whirl around, preparing to throw the knife as Matilde screams. A millisecond of hesitation is all that prevents me from killing my own brother tonight.
Dante storms toward me, roaring like a bull, “WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?!”
Knowing what this is about, I sheathe my knife again, but Matilde jumps up behind me, clutching my arm. This is the first time she’s seen this side of him, and she’s rightly terrified.
I wrap my arm around her waist, meeting her worried gaze. “Don’t be scared, tesoro. He’s not angry with you.”