Chapter 6
Chapter Six
NICO
THREE YEARS LATER
“What do you want?” He grits out, frustration heavy in his tone.
I lean back in the chair, kick my boots up on the wooden kitchen table inside one of his drug houses. I stare at the iPad screen. “Isn’t it obvious? Newark.” A devilish grin lifts the corner of my lips.
“You’ve been a thorn in my side for three years. I lost tons of men because of you.”
“I get it. The underground pipeline makes the town lucrative. However, you can’t steal from someone who earned it to line your fucking pockets.”
He arched a bushy brow. “Aren’t you doing the same thing?”
Muffled voices sound around me. I tune them out and focus on the call.
The asshole is dressed in a pristine blue suit.
“Yes and no, Ettore. The town’s proximity to New Jersey aligns more closely with my plans.
Newark, Delaware shouldn’t have connections with Washington D.C. or Baltimore.”
Sitting behind his oversized desk, he curls his meaty fist with a look of annoyance on his olive complected face. “You’ve crippled many of my businesses with the help of the Don of the Cosa Nostra in Sicily,” he snarls.
“What can I say? The Don will make a shit ton of money off this town.”
“You’ll pay for this, Nico,” he roars.
“No. We’re done here. Run your territories and don’t return to Delaware or New Jersey.” I drop my feet and lean into the screen. “Because if I catch your men in my territory, I will go right for your pipeline that runs through D.C.”
“You motherfucker,” he yells.
I tap the disconnect button and close my iPad. Standing to my feet, I grab my muzzled Glock off the table.
“Anyone ever tell you it’s rude to talk while a person’s on the phone?”
The four men, bound tightly with zip ties and gagged, writhe helplessly on the living room floor beneath my bodyguards’ intense stares.
“Fuck you,” one spits through the gag.
I step forward, gloved finger hovering near the trigger. “Go straight to hell.”
I aim the Glock at his head and squeeze the trigger. Moving down the line, I put a bullet in each of their heads.
Grinning, I look at Lune. “We own this territory now.”
He smirks. “Today’s a good day.”
“It is. Make sure we look after the families of the men who died today.”
“Consider it done, sir,” Lune replies.
“Reacher, load up the bodies and take them to the oven.”
“On it,” he answers.
In a few days, after a meeting with my men, I’ll fly to Italy.
My son is two and a half now. I still can’t believe she planned to put him up for adoption, never letting me see him.
Did she really intend to avoid a paternity test forever?
Maybe she always knew Madden was mine. I have to own my part—tampering with her birth control before realizing she didn’t want children.
Deep down, I knew, but I pressed my desires onto her.
Will I ever forgive her for stealing our son?
No.
Two hours later, I arrive at my secret condo in Newark, Delaware. I spent so much time here during the war that buying the entire building made sense—a place to finally rest my head. I slide the key into the lock and step inside.
“Nico, you’re home,” she calls out from the sofa across the spacious room.
Her silky red hair is piled high, and the short champagne-colored robe clings to her tiny frame, revealing everything.
“Come here.” She stretches her arms toward me.
“I need a shower first.”
Her porcelain face brightens. “When you’re done, I’ll give you a massage.”
I grin. “I’d like that.”
Not sure why she sticks around. Someone slashed her brake lines—she only hit a pole, luckily. And her apartment recently went up in flames. No doubt Ettore and his men are behind it. Earlier tonight, I didn’t confront him about it. Why not?
If it were my son’s mother in danger, I’d be at his house slitting his fucking throat. I know the answer. I like Lucinda, but not enough to claim her as mine.
The war with Ettore is finally done. But Aleksandr’s still a problem. Lucinda can stay in one of the vacant units here, guarded by a few of my soldiers. Meanwhile, I’m heading back to my mansion in Elizabeth, New Jersey.
Moving through the huge space, I step into my ensuite bedroom and shed my clothes. Whenever I’m alone, I scroll through the countless photos of Madden that Fia has sent to my secure email. I can’t keep my son’s pictures on my phone—too risky; I won’t put him in danger.
I’m eager to see Madden soon. Amidst all this chaos, the one thing that brings me comfort is that he looks just like me.
And Serenity has to see my twin every minute of every day.
A smirk crosses my lips as I step beneath one of the eight shower heads.
Once the war with Aleksander ends, it’ll be time for her to come home.