Nicoli: Chapter 17

It’s dark. Cold. My legs are restless. They want me to run, but I can’t run because I can’t see anything. Where do I run to? In which direction do I go when everything is pitch black around me?

Momma made me promise not to open my eyes, and I can’t break that promise. I won’t. Where is she? “Momma? Momma, where are you?” I turn my face to the left, then to the right. “Momma?”

“I’m here, Mirabella.” The sound of her voice drapes like a blanket over me, the cold instantly gone.

“Momma!” I scream with a desperate hitch, my arms flailing around in the dark as I search for her.

“You didn’t open your eyes, did you?”

I shake my head, pinching my eyes closed even harder. “No, Momma.”

“Good girl. Now, remember, if the bad man tells you to open your eyes, you tell him no. Understood?”

I nod.

“No matter what he says, or how angry he sounds, you do not look. Okay?”

“Yes, Momma.”

There’s a sudden cold breeze that wraps around my ankles with icy tentacles. “It’s the bad man,” I say. “He’s here.”

“Remember, he can’t hurt you. He can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. If you stay strong and keep your promise, he will go away.”

My tears are warm as they trickle down my cheek, and I swat them away with a quick sweep of my hand.

“Open your eyes, Mirabella.” His tone is dark, his voice thick and sticky…like blood. “If you want to remember, you have to open your eyes.”

“Remember what?”

“Everything. Just open your eyes.”

“No.” I shake my head almost manically, my warm tears turning into coals. “I won’t.”

“You have to. It’s the only way you’ll remember.”

“No.”

“Look at me!” he roars, the world around me shaking with waves of anger.

“No. No. No,” I keep repeating, pressing my palms over my ears. “I won’t look.”

I won’t look.

“Great. You’re not dressed yet.” I shut the bedroom door behind me, sauntering toward Leandra.

“What do you mean?” She arches an eyebrow and glances down at her front. “I am dressed.”

I balk. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s one button and three inches of fabric away from a habit.”

She rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to her reflection in the mirror. “I like it. Alexius loves it, too.”

This time it’s my turn to roll my eyes, making a dramatic show of it. “Of course, he loves it. It’s a black frock that accentuates absolutely nothing. What’s not to like? Here, try this one.” I give her the dress I picked out specially for her, knowing she’d want to go out in a dress more suited for Sunday mass than a Saturday night birthday party.

Leandra glances over the low-cut cowl neckline mini dress then scowls at me. “Are you serious?”

“That color will complement your skin tone. Plus, the reflective sequins and beads will make you stand out in the crowd.”

“Why do I want to stand out?”

“Because you’re a Del Rossa wife, and everyone in this city needs to know that every time you walk into a room.” We lock eyes for a moment, and I know she knows I won’t let her leave this room without trying the dress on first.

“Fine,” she concedes and slips in behind the wooden dressing screen. “But if Alexius decides to lock me in a room again, it’s on you.”

“Don’t act like you won’t enjoy being held hostage by your husband…again.”

She huffs out a chuckle, then peeks from around the white handcrafted wood, gazing at the hem of my mini dress. “Did Maximo approve the dress his little sister is wearing tonight?”

“Maximo doesn’t have to approve anything when it comes to his little sister, thank you very much.”

“That dress is provocative and sexy. I’d be surprised if the brothers let you out on the front porch.”

I turn from front to back and back to front as I look at my reflection. “I figured since we have five babysitters tonight, I have to wear something noticeable through a wall of muscle.”

“Now I know why Maximo is so serious all the time. He has you to worry about.” She glances around the framework again. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” I pretend not to know why she’d ask me that. But I do. I’ve been in my room most of the time because I’m trying to avoid running into Nicoli. I’m still licking my wounds, and the last thing I need is to look into the eyes of the predator who tore my heart out. On the days I do decide to step out of my room, I hardly speak to anyone, mainly because I really don’t want to. It’s like there are clinking ice cubes in my chest, freezing my desire to smile and be friendly to others while I’m dead inside. But since today is my birthday, I’ve decided the best gift I could give myself is to go out into the world and do whatever the fuck I want. Hence the reason I’m wearing the very revealing dress that leaves little to the imagination.

“I’m not going to push you to tell me exactly what happened that had you huddled up in your bedroom, but I’m here…you know. If you need to talk.”

I fluff up my hair, trying to get more volume into my freshly styled curls. “The last thing I want to do tonight is talk. I just want to forget about everything, just for tonight.”

Leandra shoots me a tight smile before disappearing again. “Just for tonight. I’ll bug your ass about talking again tomorrow.”

“Please don’t.”

“I’ve always wanted to ask,” she says from behind the screen. “You really love the color red. Is there a specific reason for that?”

“I dunno. There’s just something about the rich, deep shade of red that makes me feel…empowered, I guess.” I run a hand down the front of my one-shoulder ruched dress with cut-out detail around my middle. It’s skintight, the fabric smooth and cool, feeling like water on my skin. This one has been sitting in my closet for months, waiting for the perfect opportunity to be worn. And tonight is that perfect opportunity—a birthday celebration and a night on the town.

“It’s not a color a lot of people can pull off. But it’s like God invented red with you in mind,” Leandra says as she steps out from behind the dressing screen.

I smile. “Talk about pulling off a color. Those rose-gold sequins look stunning on you, and I’m pretty sure Alexius will burst a vein in his forehead when he sees you.”

“As I said,” she shimmies me out of the way and steps in front of the mirror, “I’ll blame it all on you.”

I reach for the clip in her hair and remove it, letting her dark hair cascade down her shoulders. “If I’m to blame for you looking this hot, my work here is done.”

Turning on my heel, Leandra takes my hand and lets me face her, her eyes gentle and caring. “Happy birthday, Mirabella. I hope this year is all you dream it would be.”

If there’s one word to describe her, it’s ‘genuine.’ There is nothing false or fake about her. What you see is what you get, and what you see is a kind, courageous, loving, and strong woman. There’s no need to guess how she managed to crack through Alexius’ hard exterior, how she has him wrapped around her finger. He knows what he found in her, what a diamond she truly is…which is also why she’s become my best friend.

“Thank you,” I say, squeezing her hand. “But judging by how it started, I’m not holding my breath.” I don’t allow myself to get caught up in the moment that would surely catapult me back into that dark hell of despair. If I do, I’ll lose my resolve to forget about him, and tonight is all about forgetting and focusing on nothing but having fun—something I haven’t allowed myself to do since my impromptu vacation to Tuscany after senior year. I’m determined to take back my life and refuse to be locked up in this cage any longer.

“Is Nicoli joining us?”

My stomach flips. “No. Maximo said Nicoli had somewhere to be. Which is great because all he’d be able to do is suck the oxygen out of that entire damn club.” A piece of me is thankful, while another sulks because I wanted him to see me in this red dress while I shove what exactly he’s missing out on in his face. I’m done sulking. Done being miserable. And that’s why I started this party early with a few glasses of champagne, and rummaging through my bags in search of Felix’s card so I could send him a personalized invitation. It’s petty, I know. Also, I don’t care.

There’s a crackle of excitement as Leandra and I walk through the hall and down the stairs. It’s in the air, it’s on my skin, it’s alive in my veins. Tonight, I want to celebrate my birthday my way. Not the Del Rossa way. I don’t want to smile and greet guests. I don’t want to worry about being on my best behavior while acting like the perfect hostess to a birthday party planned with the Dark Sovereign in mind. I don’t want to be a courteous, prim and proper princess while worrying more about the guests having more fun than me on my own goddamn birthday. I want to be the woman I was back in Tuscany. I want to feel that confidence again, forget about rules and restrictions, and throw caution to the wind. For too long, I’ve been kept locked up. Suppressed and smothered. I’m not an innocent little schoolgirl with ponytails and cotton underwear. I’m silk and lace, seduction and sensuality, with a hint of rebellion lurking beneath the surface. And tonight, I plan on letting it all out to play. This night will be about me, what I want and how I want it. I will dance until my feet hurt. Laugh until my stomach aches. And I plan on drinking more champagne than what’s considered proper in our world.

Tonight, I’m not in their world. I’m in mine.

As we walk out the front door, I’m reminded that Leandra and I will be hidden behind a giant brick wall of Del Rossa muscle. The brothers are fierce, and they protect what’s theirs with a ferocity that can’t be matched. Ask Oliver Jaycox from my freshman year, a boy who pulled together the courage to ask me on a date only to show up at school the next day with a broken nose and busted lip. Then there’s Sam Rathborne, the senior who asked me to prom then ended up needing emergency eye surgery the night before. The list goes on, boys trying to get close to me only to avoid me like the plague shortly after. Maximo, paired with the most powerful brothers in the city, equaled me not having a social life.

But I’ll always have Tuscany. And I plan on having this night too.

They’re all standing by the black limousine, smoking cigars while looking like they own the goddamn world in their ironclad confidence and expensive suits. Except for Maximo. My brother despises suits and would rather walk around naked than wear anything other than his leather jackets and jeans. But I am surprised to see Isaia in a suit—well, half a suit. He might not be wearing a suit jacket, but pants that aren’t denim, and a dress shirt with sleeves rolled up mid-arm is entirely out of the ordinary for him. The only time he’ll wear Armani is on wedding days or funerals. High days and low days. I guess he sees my birthday as a high day. I’ll take it.

Caelian is the first one to notice us. His eyes widen, and he clenches his fist in front of his mouth to hide his smirk. “Someone is getting killed tonight.”

Maximo and Alexius both look up at us, and their expressions change from bored to pissed in half a heartbeat.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath as both Maximo and Alexius march toward us like war generals. But Caelian intercepts by sliding in front of them and pushing his fingers into their chests.

“Come on, guys,” he starts. “We’re all adults here. Let the women be.”

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Alexius barks.

“Listen, it’s Mira’s birthday. Let the girls have a good time. God knows they deserve it for being able to live under the same roof as the lot of us.”

“If you weren’t my brother, I’d shoot you.” Alexius flattens Caelian with a stare that could inflict immense pain and suffering. Isaia snickers in the background, drawing my attention, only to see Nicoli standing next to him. My heart hiccups, then it comes back to full-steam mode, my thoughts and resolve hijacked by the sight of him. His hair fades into the black of night, his crystal blue eyes glittering like beacons in the dark. There aren’t enough adjectives in the English language that can describe the perfection that is Nicoli Del Rossa. He used to be my prince. Now…he’s my villain.

Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I let it seep through. The pain. The heartache. The longing. But I hold his gaze, and he slowly looks down my body to the top of my Jimmy Choo heels and back up again. His stare turns to ice, and I feel it spread across my skin, its chill settling in my bones. And then he starts toward me like a bulldozer ready to demolish my dreams of a fun night.

I’m going to throw up.

Maximo rushes over, and I glare at my brother. “You said he wasn’t joining us.”

“He’s not, so relax.”

“Then what is he doing here?”

Nicoli practically shoves Maximo out of the way, standing so fucking close I can smell the coffee he had at breakfast. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Get out of my face, Nicoli.”

“You can’t seriously think what you’re wearing is appropriate. It doesn’t even qualify as a shirt, not to a mention a fucking dress.”

I level him with a glare, lifting my chin in defiance. “You are the last person to lecture me about what’s appropriate.”

“I insist that you find something else to wear.”

“And I insist you find someone else’s life to ruin.”

His nostrils flare, his lips drawn back. “Don’t play this game with me, Mira.”

“You started this game, so I will fucking play it.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“And for the first time in my life, I don’t give a fuck about mistakes anymore.” I inch even closer, and I’m sure he can taste my confidence on the tip of his tongue. “And I have you to thank for that. So, get the hell out of my way.”

The breath of distance between us pulses with electricity. It’s palpable and intense, like a looming thunderstorm thickening the air. He doesn’t move, and neither do I. We’re two solid lines on a drawing board. Bold. Hard. And impossible to go around.

Nicoli’s expression is nothing but hard lines and fiery grooves. “On second thought,” he says, taking a step back without tearing his gaze from mine, “I think I’ll join you.”

My insides coil tight, but I refuse to show any emotion other than sheer contempt. “Great. You can keep an eye on the drinks, make sure I don’t get roofied.” I shoulder past him, heels clicking loudly on the asphalt. “Last thing I want is to be taken advantage of.”

I hear him growl like a fucking animal behind me, and I’m all kinds of satisfied by the knife I just lodged in his chest.

Caelian waves Nicoli over to the limousine. “Don’t worry. I’ll sit in the middle of you two and prevent pre-party carnage.”

Nicoli stomps in the direction of his car. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Oh, come on. This limousine can fit half of Japan in the back seat.”

Nicoli ignores him and slides into his sleek, black Maserati.

Relief drapes over me. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle the proximity of sitting in the same car as him.

Nicoli starts his engine, pumping the gas and revving it hard before he speeds off, his tires kicking up gravel.

I’m trying to gather my resolve that Nicoli just shattered, forcing ice through my veins and steel up my spine. As I walk to the limousine, I force myself to pretend tonight will be a good night. But I can’t shake the ominous feeling in my gut that’s saying everything is about to change.