18. Nico
NICO
“This wedding is going to be a disaster.”
I roll over on the bed, careful not to disturb Valeria.
“What was your first clue?” I hiss into my new phone as I creep out of the room. “The fact that we’d almost gotten murdered yesterday, or that neither the bride nor groom want this wedding?”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Alessia says. “I had the planner show me the wedding details—”
I don’t bother to ask how she got that information—if Alessia wants to know something, she’s going to find out—and instead walk directly to the kitchen in search of caffeine.
“The whole thing is modern, but this is supposed to be the wedding of the century. It needs to be traditional modern. Every detail has to scream understated wealth, elegance, and most importantly, power.”
I set a bag of coffee beans on the counter and rub my face. “What the hell is traditional modern?”
She gives a long-suffering sigh. “Where is Valeria? Put her on the phone.”
“She’s asleep,” I say, starting the kettle.
“Tell her to get dressed. I’m taking her to check out a couple of venues.”
“Aren’t you leaving today?”
“I made space in my schedule. What kind of big sister would I be if I let my baby brother have a stupid, ugly, tacky wedding?”
“Probably one I’d like a lot more.”
“Whatever. I’ll be there in a half hour, and I’m bringing protein bowls.”
“No, you’re not. I don’t want Valeria going anywhere after yesterday.”
She scoffs. “Nico, what did I just say about being dramatic? So we got shot at, big deal. We already know they weren’t even trying to kill us, and Giovanni will be with us the whole time.”
Giovanni.
“Alessia,” I say slowly, fighting the urge to grind my teeth. “I don’t want him anywhere near her.”
“Aw, I’ve never seen you jealous before. Look, you have nothing to worry about. Giovanni’s way out of her league. And—”
“Alessia, I’m about to hang up.”
“Okay, okay, cazzo. Look, I’ll bring Mamma and the wedding planner—no men—and we’ll go to the safest possible venues. I’ll bring my gun, and we’ll have her back by the afternoon.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
A polite knock sounds against the door.
It’s not Alessia here early—the sound was way too soft.
“I have to go. Someone’s at the door,” I hiss into the receiver.
“I’m twenty minutes away—”
I hang up and slip back into the bedroom to grab my gun, careful not to disturb Valeria.
She’s curled in a tight ball, her hair like a spray of black ink on the white sheets.
I tread silently back to the front door and peer through the peephole.
A man in a black motorcycle helmet and black leather jacket stands outside my door.
“I’m Joey,” he says, voice muffled through his helmet and the door.
“You’re about to be Swiss cheese.”
“Sal sent me.”
I step back from the door, lowering my gun. Of course, Salvatore sends a masked man to my place the day after I got shot at.
With my focus on the front door, I step into the kitchen and call up Salvatore.
“Nico.”
“Why is there a guy in assless chaps outside my front door?”
“That’s Joey. He needs extra manpower for a few jobs today.”
“And you didn’t think to give me a heads-up? I almost killed him.”
“He typically wears a bulletproof vest.”
“How long will this take? I can’t leave Valeria alone.” Not today, not ever, I think grimly as I look at the bedroom door.
“Figure it out. I’m giving you an order.”
I scrub over my head. Hands and knees, remember?
“Salvatore,” I say in a low voice. I don’t even know where I’m going with this, but he waits as I gather my thoughts. “I’ll do whatever you say, but I can’t leave her alone. Can you send some men to watch her? I need to know she’s safe… please.”
My stomach sinks in the silence that follows.
He has me by the balls. I have no real power outside of my birth status, and I’ve made sure to put that far at the back of his mind while I’ve taken every opportunity to fuck with him for months.
He has every incentive to tell me no.
What other options do I have?
“Dom will keep an eye on her.”
My shoulders slump. I blow out a stream of air, not caring if Salvatore hears my audible relief.
Dom, his massive underboss, sent to watch Valeria?
He’s the best man that could be put on the job.
Distantly, I’m aware of the generosity of what Salvatore’s done, and what it suggests—he wants to be allies.
“Thank you, Salvatore.”
“Don Salvatore.”
I almost laugh. He thinks I give a shit about titles and pride?
“Don Salvatore,” I say easily.
He hangs up, and for a long moment, I stand alone in the kitchen. Valeria, sleeping peacefully behind one closed door. Joey, waiting for me behind the second.
My brother, determined to prove his mastery over me.
None of it matters. I’ll call Salvatore whatever he wants. I’ll jump through all his hoops like a perfectly trained circus seal.
What I won’t do is go through what I did yesterday—clutching Valeria’s body under mine as glass rained down on us, my heart hammering so hard in my chest that I thought she would feel it while I desperately prayed to an estranged God that she would be all right.
I swallow my annoyance and call my father.
Several rings later, he doesn’t pick up. Asshole.
With one last, lingering glance at my bedroom door, I walk to the front door and open it for Joey.
His pitch-black motorcycle helmet greets me in the hallway.
We stare at each other for several seconds.
“Do you want coffee?” I finally ask.
“Yes, please.”
While Joey sips from a mug in the kitchen, I bring a second cup to the bedroom.
With the door shut, it’s cool and dark inside.
Valeria has shifted, tucking herself completely under the white sheet, only the side of her face sticking out, exposing one perfectly shaped ear.
I smile to myself as I set her coffee cup down on the nightstand. Admiring a woman’s ear is a first.
“Are you watching me?” Valeria asks groggily. She peeks her head out and squints one eye open.
“Yes.”
“That’s weird.”
“I also brought you coffee.”
She sits up, stretching long, the bedsheets pooling around her waist and exposing her gorgeous breasts. My mouth waters.
She reaches over for the coffee and takes a deep drink before finally cracking open both eyes. “Thanks, weirdo.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Will you come to bed with me?”
My chest swells. “Yeah.” I crawl into bed and wrap my arms around her waist. She’s so soft. I press my lips to her belly just to feel her against me. I should’ve locked the door, but with her in my arms and my cock thickening, I’m finding I don’t care right now.
She runs her nails down my back as she sips at her coffee.
When I glance up at her, she gives me that soft, contented look I see on her face sometimes.
“This is nice,” she says.
“You’ll want to keep that in mind,” I say as I lay my head back down on her lap. “In about twenty minutes or so.”
Valeria was surprisingly eager to go out with Alessia.
“You mean, she wants to take over every decision for our wedding? Of course I’m in.”
I had Joey wait in the parking deck.
While Alessia went to the bathroom, Valeria called her friend Lacey to join them, and as they drove off, I found Joey and stepped into his white van.
The first place he brought me to was an empty warehouse that smelled faintly of blood and bleach. He handed me a toothbrush and a bucket of bleach and told me to get to work.
By the time he and I finished, it was midnight, and Valeria was fast asleep, but after I showered and crawled into bed with her, she wrapped her arms around me and brushed a kiss against my mouth. I rolled her onto her back and ate her like a man starved.
For the next few days, we meet that way, like ships in the night.
One evening, I came home to find a few magazines scattered across the kitchen table with a sheet of cardstock in the center, scraps of red paper glued on top—her collage art.
I studied it for several minutes under my phone’s flashlight, my eyes finally falling on the tiniest pair of red hearts in the middle of the abstract shapes.
I shut off my phone and went to the bedroom to murmur praise in her ear as I took her from behind.
In the morning, she leaves with Alessia before I’m awake, but she leaves terribly brewed cups of coffee for me on the counter, which I suck down in gratitude.
At night, I drop pastries or takeaway in the fridge for her, shower, and fuck her in the darkness like it’s our first time, every time.
It’s not what I want for us, but it’s close enough. If the cost of her protection is that Salvatore hazes me with shit jobs, I’m more than willing to pay.
Every chance I get after stirring barrels of hydrochloric acid, counting thousands of items in Joey’s chemical inventory, or digging up dirt holes for him to throw mysterious trash into, I step aside to call my father.
He used to pick up on the first ring. Now, he won’t answer any of my calls.
I leave him short voicemails to answer me, and then move on to check my phone for Valeria’s location.
I could stare at her little blip moving from florist to bakery to boutique all day long.
I’ve never cared for power or wealth—and I’ve never understood why my father seeks to stockpile both—he has plenty, why would he need more?
But information? That’s a power trip that goes straight to my head.
I start to understand why my brother is so focused on surveillance as I observe Giovanni’s location moving all over Chicago—though Salvatore was quick to warn me not to trust the little red dots on the map.
Sometimes they lie.
After a few days of this new routine, Joey drives off from the mortuary, and I slump against the passenger side door, my eyes shuttering closed.
I’m dying to wrap my arms around Valeria, to pull her against me and roll myself on top of her. To smell her and kiss the sensitive skin underneath her ear that makes her body react in delicious ways. To whisper to her that I missed her today.
I get a notification that she’s leaving the apartment, and before I can react, my phone rings.
It’s Alessia.
“We’re going shopping for wedding dresses. You’re not invited.”