Chapter 3
Chapter Three
NICO
It’s official. Serenity stole my baby.
I stand at the marble kitchen counter, clad only in boxers, my fingers gripping the sink’s edge so tightly my knuckles turn white.
If I don’t stop, I’ll break my fucking fingers.
My gaze drifts over the photos scattered across the countertop.
These are the latest images sent by Devlin, the second bodyguard I assigned to help Nolan in Italy. For six months now, I’ve been receiving his updates and pictures.
The photo that kills me is her poolside, lounging in the sun, a tiny red bikini stretched over her glowing skin.
Her belly is as big as a beach ball.
Her belly.
My vision goes black at the edges. My cock doesn’t twitch. My blood boils hot enough to burn through bone.
“She stole my fucking baby,” I roar.
My jaw cracks as I grit my teeth. “It’s war, Serenity.”
My eyes, that so many women beg to stare into every night, lack brightness.
They’re dull. I hadn’t looked like myself since before Serenity left.
To carry out my misery every day, I only wear black, navy, brown, and green suits.
All dark. There won’t be any need for bright suits this hot ass summer.
That’s because nothing matters anymore.
Love is for pussies.
Women are only good for giving head and sex.
I’ll never fall in love again.
Gripping my ankle that rests on my knee, I sit in one of the two plush leather chairs at my brother’s desk. He glares at me from his huge leather office chair.
“You’re pricklier than usual,” Nick says.
I don’t bother telling him about the pictures and Serenity’s pregnant belly.
“Let’s get the meeting underway, big brother.”
“Have you gone to Florence to see her?” Concern laces his words.
“No, Nick,” I bite out.
“It’s been six months, Nico.”
I arch a brow as I pull a cigar from my inner black suit jacket pocket. “How long has it been for you, Nick? You know, since you had to walk away from Kinsley?”
He points a finger in my direction, nostrils flaring. “Don’t fucking do that.”
“Do what? Be miserable like you?” I take the cutter and clip the top of the cigar.
He leans back in his seat. “Yeah. This is a fucked up place to be.”
At least she’s not pregnant with your child.
I don’t say those words aloud. I light the cigar, then blow out a cloud of smoke.
My child’s existence is to remain a secret for now.
Nick drawls on about territory problems, watching for my reaction.
I’m into some heavy shit. I may have started wars between Washington D.C.
, Baltimore, Maryland, and Newark, Delaware.
My brother doesn’t know the wars are my doing because the name whispered in the streets is our grandfather’s last name, Marino.
If someone figures out, I’m involved, my brother and sister are strong enough to take the blowback.
My brother and I run our family’s empire. So sitting in these weekly meetings is an honor. When my world imploded, the meetings no longer brought joy. However, it’s best I always show up so Nick doesn’t catch wind of my extracurricular activities.
This war could take years to end. War is a great distraction. What else do I have to do other than be a cruel, ruthless mafia boss?
“Nick, I’ll get right on it,” I tell him.
He grins. “I know you will, little brother.”
Later that night, dressed in full combat gear, I stand with my back against the side of a house in Newark, Delaware. Miff takes the lead, while Reacher guards behind me. The neighboring house had already been swept—no room for curious eyes with what we were about to do.
My phone vibrates inside the pocket of my dark cargo pants. To anyone watching nearby, we’d look like a SWAT team.
Holding my Glock close to the side of my face, I press the earpiece lightly with my other gloved hand. “Hello, grandfather. How’s everything going?” I whisper.
“Nico, I just wanted to update you on what’s happening in Italy.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond and keeps talking.
“Fia and I have sort of picked up where we left off years ago. I didn’t lie to her.
I told her the truth. I want to spend time with her, and I also let her know my grandson is worried about Serenity.
She was apprehensive at first, but she’s agreed to meet with you tomorrow at four p.m. At a little cafe near the most popular local produce market in the heart of Florence,” he concludes.
“Thank you, grandfather.”
“It’s no problem. I feel youthful. Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Keep it clean, Nico.”
A devilish grin lifts my cheeks. “I will.”
I tap the earpiece to disconnect the call, then tap it twice to loop in my team. “We’re moving in,” I announce.
My head has to be in the game when we enter the house. Grandfather knows the plan. I’m sure he provided that information when he did to give me extra motivation.
Hunched over, we dash toward the back of the house. My grandfather’s men—Fabio, Gavin, Henson, and Brett—had already taken out the guards patrolling the perimeter.
At the back door, Miff lifts his fist, signaling us to stop. We pull our gas masks over our faces. Without hesitation, Miff smashes his elbow through the windowpane and hurls a tear gas canister inside.
Gunfire erupts immediately. Bullets slam into the kitchen window above, shattering glass that rains down around us.
Miff raises his AR-15 to eye level, firing back.
He kicks the door hard with his boot. We move inside.
The shooter lies sprawled on the floor, motionless, eyes wide open.
I veer right, vision blurred by the thick tear gas.
A figure emerges in the hallway, coughing and shielding his nose with his arm.
He fires. I shoot back; rounds punch into my bulletproof vest. Staggering, I ignore the searing heat beneath.
I empty my clip into the bastard as I advance.
He collapses, his Glock clattering onto the wooden floor.
I kick it away. “Two down so far,” I report into the earpiece.
Miff and Reacher step into the living room. A few men cough while waving their weapons aimlessly. With my silencer attached, I line up each shot, dropping them one by one with precise headshots. Still, none of these men are the targets I’m looking for.
“Fabio and Gavin, clear the lower floor,” I order. “We’ll take the top.”
“On it,” they reply, one after the other.
Miff, Reacher, and I creep upstairs, moving cautiously.
Miff raises his weapon, aiming at the door ahead.
We each take a position by a door. I slam my boot into the door on my left, throwing it open—nothing inside.
Bullets rip through the bed, the closet, and even the bathroom walls.
Rather than opening the closet door, I unleash a barrage of fire.
Once I’m sure anyone inside is down, I fling the closet door open. It’s empty.
I yank the mattress off the frame and spot a trapdoor beneath. “Very clever.”
I holster my Glock and grab the AR-15 slung across my body.
I fire two shots at each corner of the bed before leaping onto it.
I yank open the trapdoor, but lose my balance and fall to the floor.
A figure bursts from the hole, firing wildly.
He hasn’t spotted me yet. His gaze sweeps the room then lock on me.
My heart pounds. Our weapons raise simultaneously.
We fire at once. Sliding right, I pull the trigger again. My bullet slams into his shoulder.
“Drop your weapon,” Miff shouts.
The bastard keeps his gaze locked on me, clearly aiming to put a bullet between my eyes.
Pain pulses beneath my vest.
Finally, he throws his weapon on the floor. Miff hauls him off the bed.
I tug the vest away from my chest, trying to relieve the sting, and wince as I straighten up. “I’m glad my men and I found you. Once we’ve captured every soldier Novikoff and Vero sent to Newark, this territory will be mine.”
Having been hit several times while wearing my bulletproof vest, I need adequate rest. I spend the entire flight resting on my comfortable bed in the spacious suite of my private jet.
Hunting unscrupulous assholes has become a part-time job. I still put in hours at my family’s corporation during the day, suit and tie, boardrooms and contracts. But at night, I track down the bastards one by one.
Anyone tied to the men who hurt Serenity’s family pays with their life. Blood will stain my hands for a long time. I’m fine with that.
I step off the jet wearing a white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, a blue blazer tailored to fit me, black slacks, and black loafers. Half an hour later, sunglasses shield my eyes from the brutal sun as I walk onto the patio of an outdoor café.
She sits alone at a small table, sipping from a white mug. I don’t miss the guards sitting at tables nearby. Their eyes sweep the patio in slow, calculated movements.
I approach. “Mrs. Cichello?”
Her gray eyes meet mine. “I know who you are, but I need to hear you say it.”
I whip off my sunglasses and push them into my inner jacket pocket. “My name is Nico Pitucco. I’m your granddaughter’s ex-boyfriend.” The last two words came out raspy.
I had to force out the words. Serenity and I are not on good terms. We will never be again.
The pain in my chest isn’t just from the bullet burns, but from the pain in my cold heart because of my ex.
A hulking bodyguard steps closer to pat me down. I extend my arms so he can perform a thorough search.
“He’s clean,” her bodyguard says.
“Have a seat, Nico.” She smiles. “You're a handsome young man.”
A grin lifts my clean-shaven face. “Thank you.”
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Yes,” I reply.
“Michael will bring it over. What would you like?”
“A caffè doppio.” I’m still exhausted, so the double shot of espresso will keep me awake.
Michael leisurely walks inside, with Miff right behind him.
“Your men aren’t very trustworthy,” she comments.
“Not at all. A man in my position can never be too careful.”
She nods. “That’s true. My husband would’ve sent one of his men, too.”
“He must have been quite the businessman,” I say.
“He was,” Mrs. Cichello confirms.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I offer.
“Thank you,” she responds.
“Demario and I go way back. Before we were married off to other people,” she admits.
The brightness in her gray eyes fades.
My brows lift. “I had no idea. It was obvious he was happy to see you again. He said he feels like a young man.”
Her tanned cheeks turn a hint of red. “I feel like a young girl when I’m with Demario. Neither of us is upset with the other. Well, not anymore. When the man you love has to marry another woman, it breaks something inside you.” She taps her temple twice, just like Serenity did.
And my heart slams against my rib cage. I hated seeing Serenity so fucking broken.
Michael approaches with Miff on his heels.
He places the tiny cup of espresso in front of me. “Thank you, Michael.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies, before walking away.
I nod at Miff. He returns to the table to my left. There are only a few couples sitting on the patio enjoying their pastries and coffee.
Mrs. Cichello continues. “Demario was told to stay away from me too. Because I was also arranged to marry someone else. Toro Cichello. My father made the deal, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. I had to walk away from the love of my life. Now you and my granddaughter have problems, and he magically appears on my doorstep.”
“I never asked him to get involved in that way. I needed soldiers for my private war. And my grandfather provided his army.”
She smiles placing a hand over mine briefly. “You and my granddaughter’s problem brought him back to me. Our spouses are deceased. We’re free to be with each other. What did he tell you about Serenity?”
I know what she’s getting at. She wants to know if he told me she’s pregnant.
“That you’d meet with me,” I answer.
She cocks her head to the side. “That’s all?”
“Yes. I have assigned men to watch over her. So I know she’s pregnant with my child. I’ve got tons of pictures of her growing belly.”
I retrieve a photo from my inner jacket pocket and place it on the table between us.
She glances at it and nods.
“I figure she’s about twenty-four weeks along,” I say.
Mrs. Cichello’s face remains unreadable, unmoved. She’s a tough one.
“I hired a hacker to breach the clinic’s files this morning. I already know she’s twenty-seven weeks,” I say picking up the picture and sliding it back into my inner jacket pocket.
“Serenity said she slept with more than one man. Claims she doesn’t know who the father is.”
My upper lip twitches as I grit my teeth.
I’m sure Mrs. Cichello can sense the anger radiating off me.
“Here’s the truth. Serenity and I agreed years ago to only have unprotected sex with each other.
Not that I’d let another man get close to her.
And when they did… let’s just say some didn’t make it. ” I lifted the tiny cup to my lips.
“You’re obsessed with her?” she states with a hint of delight in her tone.
“I was obsessed until she ran away. I’m here for my child.”
“What time should I come over?” I ask, brushing past her words.
“Eleven.”
This time, I rest my hand over hers. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
“I’m cheering for you, Nico. I know you’ll burn down this world for my granddaughter and the baby.”
“Already happening,” I reply candidly.
Her eyes fill with tears. “Then consider me your ally.”
Isettle on the bed beside the woman who shattered my heart into a million pieces.
Wearing cologne is out of the question because she’d know I was here.
She lies peacefully on her side, her wavy hair piled into a messy bun.
My fingers ache to undo it and thread through the strands.
She wears a soft pink tank top and matching shorts.
Her full lips remind me they were pressed against mine not long ago.
Though I long to meet her stormy gray eyes, my time here has to remain a secret.
Gently, I lift her shirt and let my rough palm glide over her belly. It’s firm beneath my touch.
“My baby is growing inside you,” I whisper.
I lean closer. “Hello, little one. I’ve come all this way just to talk to you. Daddy can’t wait to meet you. I’m doing everything I can to protect you both.” I press a tender kiss to her belly.
I sense Mrs. Cichello’s eyes fixed on me. I don’t blame her. I know Serenity means everything to her.
“I’ll return soon. Next time, I’ll read to you.” I smile, stroking her belly once more. Pride swells within me.
Next challenge is stealing my child before the adoptive parents take him or her away.