Nicoli: Chapter 23

“So, it turns out that Felix was also the guy who tried to recruit our girls.” Maximo takes his seat by the table.

“Aldo Costa?” I ask.

“Yup. We managed to identify him by the dollar sign tattoo on his neck.”

I smirk. “So, I killed two birds with one bullet. A thief and a rapist. Look at me go.”

Alexius glowers at me, unamused and clearly wearing his no-time-for-bullshit suit today. “You and Mira need to start making appearances.”

“I know.” I place my fists on the table, turning my attention to Maximo. “Are you sure you’re the one with the balls between the two of you? Because your sister has a nut sack of steel.”

Maximo laughs. “Can I just say that it thrills the shit out of me to see her make your life so damn uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable, my friend, is the understatement of the century.”

Alexius snorts. “Welcome to married life, brother.”

I scoff. “At least you’re having sex, multiple times a day, even. Me? All I’m getting is a good daily case of blue balls.”

Maximo clears his throat, and I glance at him, his face red and jaw set.

“Sorry,” I say, internally cringing. “It’s gonna take some time getting used to being married to your sister, wanting to fuck her brains out, and not saying it out loud when you’re in the room.”

“Moving on.” Alexius shifts in his seat, placing his hands on the table. “Nunzio is searching high and low to find something that will help him out of this hole his cousin has put him in. The last thing that man wants is to be in our debt over what Felix tried to do to Nicoli’s wife.”

“And how do we know this?” Isaia asks, and both Alexius and I shoot him a look as if he has just turned into the dumbest fuck alive.

“You know,” I start, “sometimes, it’s easy to forget you’ve only been sitting here at this table for a year. But then you go and say stupid shit like that.”

“I’m serious.” He shrugs. “Why wouldn’t he simply accept that his cousin fucked up by trying to rape Nicoli’s wife and just move on?”

“Because it’s not that simple. I know I wouldn’t,” Alexius says in an even tone. “If I wanted to get my dick wet in a trade that I know will make me millions and then some, plus guarantee me friends in high places, I would do whatever it takes to make that happen. I would not let a dead cousin with a hard-on screw that up by shaming me in front of the family I’m trying to fuck up the ass.”

“There you go.” I lean back in my seat. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“Which brings me back to my point.” Alexius slithers his gaze to me. “Leandra and I are going to take a break from representing the Dark Sovereign at socials and formal events. You and Mirabella will be going instead.”

“Not a chance.” I shake my head. “I am not the Boss of the Dark Sovereign, nor am I the face of this family. You are. Born and bred for it.”

“I don’t care. You and Mirabella need to be seen together more. You need to make connections with others to solidify your presence as a couple in this society, Nicoli. We cannot, under any circumstances, let Nunzio think we are even a little less than a strong, united front. We can’t give him the slightest reason to think he could take us on.”

I’m grinding my teeth, tapping my finger angrily on the table. “I’m not a social fucking butterfly like you. And I’m not parading my wife around like a goddamn trophy at horse races and fucking birthday parties.”

“You think that’s what I’m fucking doing? Parading my wife around like a goddamn trophy?” He stands, leaning with his palm flat on the table, his eyes burning through my skull. “Let me tell you what our father told me when I refused to marry. Listen good, Nicoli. A pretty wife is not just a fuck toy—sorry, Maximo.”

Maximo waves it off, but I’m pretty sure he just vomited a little in his mouth.

“A man’s power is communicated and reflected off his wife’s image. They are the ones who strengthen our presence simply by standing at our sides. Having a wife who looks at us with love and adoration is how we demand true respect from others like us. Not our money. Not our guns. Not our fucking surnames. Our wives, Nicoli.” He presses down hard on the table, bending his elbows as he leans closer to me. “So you do whatever the fuck it is that you need to do to make your wife happy. Sacrifice your motherfucking pride if you have to because that woman will be the one thing that makes you want to get up in the morning when the rest of the world has gone to shit.” He’s heaving, and there’s an intensity radiating from him that I’ve never seen before. His words are coming from somewhere far deeper, far more profound than just the wisdom of a mafia Boss. It’s pouring from his goddamn soul.

A deafening silence follows Alexius’ outburst. If I didn’t know that every word he said was the truth, I’d be pissed at how he just spoke to me—especially in front of the others. But he’s right. I’ve seen first-hand how my mother supported my father in ways that exhausted her. I’ve seen her crying secretly in her beloved garden when she thought she was alone. I sat under the maple trees and listened to her cry until she couldn’t cry anymore. Yet, when I’d see her later that same day, she would have a smile on her face that could light up the devil’s heart, and she’d be holding my father’s hand as if she’d never let go. She was his strength.

Alexius straightens, still staring me straight in the eye. “There will come a time when that woman will bleed herself dry for you, when she will love you even though it fucking breaks her. And when you fuck up so badly you tear her soul apart, your wife won’t hate you. Instead, she’ll hate herself for still loving you. In the end, she will forgive you even though you don’t deserve it. You will spend the rest of your motherfucking life doing everything you can to try to deserve her love even though you know you never will.”

That’s the deepest shit I’ve ever heard come out of my twin brother’s mouth. It cuts right to the bone, and by the way he’s looking at me now, we both know he’s talking about his own past with Leandra. About the time he deceived her, took her for granted, and broke her heart. It’s his way of warning me not to do the same. A little brotherly advice.

I could say a dickhead thing, but I’d say that takes assholery to a whole new level that not even I would go to.

“Okay,” I concede without saying anything else. I’m too afraid to open my mouth in case I end up saying the wrong thing like I usually do.

Alexius sits back down and lights a cigarette, a plume of smoke caking around his fingers. “Good. Besides, I need a goddamn vacation.”

“Tuscany?” The word causes last night’s Mexican food up my throat.

“No. I bought Leandra a private island off the coast of Belize as a gift for our anniversary next month.”

“Whoa. You’re putting me to shame, brother. I still need to buy my wife a wedding ring. But first,” I hold up a finger, “I have to find a way to get her in my goddamn bedroom.”

Caelian chuckles. It’s the first sound he’s made since this entire conversation started.

I peer at him. “Why have you been so quiet?”

“I’ve been silently hoping it wouldn’t take you an hour to say what we all knew you’d say from the very beginning of this conversation.”

“And what’s that?”

He smirks. “Yes, sir.”

Everyone bursts out laughing except for me. “That’s great,” I mutter. “Remember this moment when I piss all over your face next time your drunk ass passes out on the front porch.”

Isaia gets up and pats me on the shoulder on his way out. “Good luck with Mirabella. I’ll see you assholes later.”

“Where you off to?”

“Myth. I got some energy I need to get rid of.”

“Oh, wait for me.” Caelian rushes out after him, and we’re all aware we won’t be seeing them again today.

They shut the door, and Alexius stares at me pointedly. “I have to say it.”

“Say what?”

“That I’m glad I found out about this secret you two have been keeping from me before this shit went down because now I know what’s on the line.” He gives me a knowing look. “Her sanity.”

I’m mildly annoyed that my brother is repeating shit I already know. “Is there a point?”

“Yes. There is.”

“And what’s that?”

“Protect her.”

“Is that not what I’ve been doing?”

“It is. This is just my way of saying that whatever decision you make when it comes to protecting your wife, you have my support.” He looks at Maximo and then back at me. “But I have to agree with Maximo.”

“About what?” Have these two fuckers been talking behind my back?

“We both agree that this is good,” Alexius says simply.

“What is?”

“That you finally decided to stop fighting it and love her. Yes, I understand your reasons for keeping your distance, but trust me when I say that being with her and loving her the way you want to love her will only strengthen your bond. And that bond is what will save her should the truth ever come out.”

I’m still getting used to the fact that Alexius knows everything, which means I’m super uncomfortable whenever he talks about it. Fuck, I’m always uncomfortable talking about it because it forces me to think of a day I hope to God never comes.

Alexius rolls his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck. Tired lines form grooves on his forehead, and from this angle, I can see some dark circles under his eyes. He really does need a break.

“Are you getting enough sleep, man?” I ask, studying him.

“Both the twins are sick with the flu and haven’t been sleeping at all. Leandra refuses to have the nannies help when the twins are sick, so we’re up all fucking night.”

“What good are nannies when you can’t use their services?”

“My sentiments exactly.”

“Where’s Leandra now?”

He looks down at his wristwatch. “My guess is she’s trying to get them down for a nap. She agreed to accept help while I’m stuck here with you assholes.”

“Here’s an idea. You stay here, close the door and get some sleep—even if it’s just an hour.” I get up and gesture to Maximo to do the same. “If we run into Leandra, we’ll just say you’re on some super private call with some president or something.”

Alexius leans his head back, closing his eyes. “It’s a stupid fucking idea, but I’m too tired to give a shit.”

“Then it’s settled.” Maximo and I walk toward the door. “Enjoy your beauty sleep, brother.”

We walk out the front door and stand by my car parked in the driveway. I want to fucking burn it. All I see when I look at my Maserati is Mirabella’s cheek planted on the hood, her back bent, and that fucker’s hands all over her. I don’t see the image of Mira and me fucking in the rain against the side of the car. I don’t think of how good it felt to finally be inside her, after all this time of wanting nothing else. That motherfucker erased it all, tainted it, ruined it, and managed to change a whole lot around here even though he’s no longer breathing.

I light a cigarette and take a long drag, savoring how it fills my lungs. “Get rid of it.”

Maximo lifts a brow. “The car?”

“Yes. Get rid of it. Strip it. Burn it. I don’t care. Just get rid of it.”

“Will do. Listen,” he crosses his arms and settles in front of me, his black leather jacket all shiny and shit in the sun, “we haven’t had a chance to talk about…you know, the fact that you are now my brother-in-law.”

“Ew, God. How is it that you make everything sound gross?”

He smirks. “All jokes aside. This might all be staged and planned, or whatever. But I’m glad it’s you.”

I let out some smoke, watching it disappear into the air.

“I know you’ll protect her, Nicoli. You’ve been doing it since the day Mirabella and I arrived here, and I know you will until the day you die.”

I look him dead in the eye and nod. I’ll fucking die for her, and we both know it. I live for that woman. Always have, always will.

He shifts from one leg to the other, rubbing his fingers along his neatly trimmed beard. “And if the day comes that she remembers what happened that night, I’m glad she’ll have you to get her through it.”

I flick my cigarette, the orange ember sparking on the gravel before I smother it under my shoe. “She won’t remember.”

“I’m saying if. Anyway, as Mirabella’s brother, I feel like it’s my duty to say this.”

“Say what?”

Maximo steps up, leveling me with what I’m assuming is his I-will-fuck-you-up glare. “If you break her heart, I will fuck you up.” There it is. “And next time you decide to take my sister for a dance in the rain, make sure there’s no fucking cameras around.”

“What the fuck? Dance in the…Oh.”

“Yeah.” He slaps his palm on my shoulder. “For the love of God, never forget that I have access to all the security footage here and all over town.” He starts in the other direction.

“But you have eyes everywhere. Where are we supposed to—”

“Don’t you fucking say it.” As he walks away, he gives me the finger, and I whistle to get his attention. When he turns, I throw him my car keys.

“Get me a new one.”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t care. Just make it red.”

Mirabella

“Everything okay here?” Leandra asks as she flutters inside my room and frowns when she sees me unpacking a box.

“Peachy,” I answer as I place one of my perfume bottles back on the silver tray. “Nicoli has taken it upon himself to move my stuff to his room without my permission. Then we ended up bickering about it, and when I finally said that I’d move into his bedroom on one condition, he cursed, he overreacted, and left the box on my bed.”

Her eyes twinkle with mirth as she closes the door behind her. “What was your condition?”

“That he take me to Myth.”

Leandra clears her throat as if she almost choked on a breath. “Take you to Myth?”

“Yes.” I swirl around to face her. “Why does your face almost look identical to Nicoli’s when I said that?”

“Do you know what all happens there at the club, Mira?” She sits down on the end of the bed.

“It’s a sex club, Leandra. I have a pretty good idea what goes on there.”

“Yeah, but do you really?” She narrows her eyes. “Because I can tell you now that I was not prepared when Alexius took me there the first time. You think you are, but trust me, you aren’t. It’s like another world, and I am not sure anyone’s imagination is as wild as the reality of it. There are no limits. As in no. Limits.”

“And that’s what I want.” I take a seat on the couch, pulling my legs underneath me. “No limits. I’m not this innocent little girl everyone thinks I am.”

“Oh, I’m very much aware after you told me about Tuscany.” She widens her eyes, and we both snicker. “But maybe Nicoli isn’t.”

“He is,” I state simply.

Her eyebrows almost touch her hairline, and she leans with her elbows on her knees. “He is?”

I draw invisible lines with my finger on the couch’s armrest, tracing patterns on the fabric. “At the club, we kind of…”

“You kind of what?”

“We had sex.”

“At the club?”

“In the parking lot, to be exact.”

“The parking lot?”

“Against his car. In the rain. Out on the street.” My mind wanders back to that night as I speak these words, steamy bodies pressed against each other while raindrops pelted down around us like tiny missiles.

Her expression goes blank, and her eyes glaze over as she tries to process all that information laid out over a few short sentences. But then she looks at me, and I see the momentary pity that flickers across her face like a shadow. “This was before…Felix?”

I flit my gaze down and flick my nails with purpose. “Yes.”

“Maybe that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t want you going to the club,” she says slowly, squinting an eye at me from behind a curtain of dark hair.

“Why? Because of what happened with Felix?”

“Because he thinks you’re not ready.”

“I’m not broken, Leandra. I’m not a piece of glass that shatters under the slightest pressure.”

“To him, you are.”

“But I’m not. And I’m sick and tired of him treating me that way.”

“You’re right. You’re not. You’re a force to be reckoned with—smart, tough, and beautiful in every way possible. But that won’t stop him from being protective of you.”

“Are you defending him?”

“No. Yes.” She shakes her head lightly. “Maybe. I don’t know. All I know is that a lot has happened in a very, very short time. You and Nicoli went from having this fragile relationship, at best, for years to fighting and not talking for days to having sex at a club and getting married within hours. I don’t think either of you has taken a minute to process all of this.”

I nervously bite down hard on my bottom lip, feeling the tension tighten in my chest.

“Both of you need time to breathe first. Digest all that has happened,” she says, her tone soft.

“Believe me, Leandra. I’m digesting.”

“Are you really?” She slants her head and watches me like she’s waiting for that first sign of weakness. “You haven’t spoken about what happened with Felix. You’re acting like it never happened.”

“He didn’t rape me, Leandra.”

“That doesn’t make it any less traumatizing.”

“I feel like everyone underestimates me. I’ve been sheltered by this family all my life and never had a chance to show anyone my true strength. And now that I’m thrown in the middle of all this, everyone seems to think I’m not strong enough to handle it.” I stand. “You, of all people, should know it is possible for a woman to survive something traumatic without breaking into pieces.” The silence is thick and heavy, and it pains me that I had to hint at her troubled past. But I’m sick of everyone thinking I’m a fucking porcelain doll. I’m stronger than this. I might not be a Del Rossa by blood, but I’ve been raised like one, and that’s one thing this family has in spades. Strength. The power to survive whatever life throws at you. “Yes, I was scared,” I continue. “It was the most frightening experience of my life. But now, when I think about that moment when I saw Felix’s body on the ground, his blood staining my shoes, I don’t feel fear, panic, or hurt.” I take in a breath. “I feel empowered…by the justice of it. I can’t explain it. To me, Nicoli took care of it by shooting and killing him, and it makes me feel…okay.” I shrug. “If Nicoli didn’t kill him, maybe then I’d be the mess everyone thinks I’m supposed to be. But I’m not, and I dunno what kind of person that makes me for finding comfort in blood and death.”

Leandra places a gentle hand on my shoulder, her expression showing understanding and compassion. “It makes you the kind of woman who refuses to let another’s actions determine your worth,” she says softly. “And you’re right. You’re stronger than people give you credit for.”

I nod, feeling the weight of her words settle over me like a warm blanket.

“But don’t let that strength become your weakness,” she continues thoughtfully. “Don’t be so determined to prove yourself that you forget to take care of yourself.”

Her words strike something deep within me, and I realize how hard I’ve been pushing myself lately, how desperately I’ve been trying to keep up with everyone else, especially playing this game with Nicoli. Maybe it’s time to stop. Perhaps it is time for me to stop and breathe.

“I won’t,” I promise fiercely, meeting Leandra’s gaze head-on. “But what about Nicoli? He needs to accept that I’m not as innocent and fragile as he thinks I am. My God, you should have seen him when I told him I’m not a virgin. He was talking about bullets and glass and disembowelment.”

“Oh, shit,” Leandra utters as if she knows exactly the kind of reaction I got from Nicoli. “Has growing up with the Del Rossa brothers taught you nothing?” she teases. “They are nothing if not possessive when it comes to their women.”

“I wasn’t his woman back then.”

“But you are now. And that changes everything.”

I frown, unsure if I like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”

“I mean Nicoli sees you as his,” Leandra says bluntly. “And try as you might, you will never get him to see it otherwise. He will fight you. He will infuriate you. He will try to manipulate you by kissing and making love to you. And he might even go as far as getting you pregnant and locking you in a bedroom to get that point across.”

We chuckle, and I say, “Making light of a situation that was actually really fucked up probably makes us as morally gray as the guys.”

“It’s in the past.” She smiles. “It can’t be changed.”

I take her hand and squeeze. “Just like the whole ordeal with Felix is in my past and can’t be changed. I won’t let it steal precious time from me by wallowing in it.”

“Good for you,” she says. “I’m proud of you. And I know Nicoli is, too. Can I give you some friendly advice from one Del Rossa wife to the other?”

“Please. I think I’m going to need it.”

She leans closer, mischief swirling in your eyes. “During the day, they want us to be queens at their side. But at night…” she grins, “they need us to be slaves at their feet. And at night, we have the power to make them give us what we want.”

I can feel my cheeks flush at her words. My heart races as what she’s suggesting sinks in. The thought of being at Nicoli’s mercy, of submitting to him completely, sets my body ablaze with a desire I can’t ignore. And if I can use that to my advantage…why not?