Nicoli: Chapter 27

I’m nervous.

Of course, I am. I never imagined Nicoli would agree to bring me here. I’ve spent hours, maybe even days, of my life wondering what it looked like. Leandra often goes there with Alexius, but she never talks about it. What happens at Myth stays at Myth, it seems. It’s like their nights spent there are part of a world that’s only theirs and no one else’s. The only thing she has shared with me is that they always go masked because Alexius is determined to hide her from the rest of the guests. No one gets a glimpse of her because she is only his. And she’s okay with it. She’s more of a background kind of woman, the silent type who observes, yet her presence is always known. She’s the perfect woman for Alexius. She’s strong enough to keep him grounded, and she doesn’t need to use her own voice to feel validated simply because she has all the confidence she needs to be Alexius Del Rossa’s wife. I’m not like that. I’ve never been like that. The spotlight is where I shine the brightest. My personality is too large to be contained in the background. I grew up in this world. I’ve lived it, and I’ve become just like it.

I was born to be a Del Rossa wife.

Nicoli parks his car by the back entrance, and I’m nervously flicking my nails. “Everyone’s here?”

“Yeah. Alexius made sure everyone and their fucking mother got invited tonight.”

“Nunzio?”

Nicoli swallows hard. “I’m afraid so. I got outvoted. Seems like my brothers, including yours, think that having Nunzio here with a personal invitation from the Dark Sovereign would make it less likely for him to follow through with his plans to step into our line of business.”

“How so?”

“If he’s seen among our VIP guests enjoying the services we provide and tomorrow decides to open his own club, he’ll be branded a snake who can’t be trusted. And that would make his odds of finding allies zero to none.”

“It makes sense.”

“I know,” he sneers. “But that doesn’t mean I like it. And then my brother doesn’t even have the balls to be here himself.”

“You know how he is with Myth and showing Leandra’s face around here,” I say. “And she doesn’t want him here without her, which reminds me.” I reach out and touch his cheek. “That rule applies now to you as well, Nicoli Del Rossa. No more midnight rendezvous around this place without me. Understood?”

He places a palm on my knee. I’m wearing an A-line, high-neck, floor-length dress that’s tight around my waist and entirely made of red lace. Two slits on either side spread all the way up to my hip—no panties required, which is convenient when your husband decides to finger you in his car.

His hand eases the lace off the side of my leg. “Trust me when I say there is nothing here that I want.”

“Says the man who came here almost every night.”

“Because he tried to fuck the one thing he couldn’t have out of his system. And now—” he forces a finger inside me, causing me to squirm on the leather seats of his Audi “—I no longer have to.”

I let out a sigh as he pulls his hand away from me, trying to catch my breath. “You are the devil. You know that?”

“In an Armani suit.” He winks and shoots me a wicked grin before getting out of the car, moving around it and opening my door to help me out.

The air is soft and warm, the breeze gentle and slow. The moon and stars are on full display in all their splendor, like it’s casting their magic down on us. Maybe it’s the thrill, the excitement, the hint of nerves, but I’m entirely electrified. Just the idea of it all makes my heart quicken, and my skin burns with anticipation.

Nicoli pulls me closer and presses his lips to mine tenderly, caressing my neck with soft kisses before looking deep into my eyes. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in red?”

“Does this dress carry your stamp of approval?”

“Oh, it does. I just hope you’re not attached to it, because I love the sight of torn lace all over the fucking floor.” He places his thumb on my bottom lip, applying pressure. “Remember. You do exactly as I say. Exactly.”

“I will.”

“Good. Now let’s go show the world my new queen.”

Nicoli

I’m a fool for doing this. Every instinct inside me is screaming for me to take her home—especially with Nunzio Ferrero being here tonight. I hate this tactical game we need to play—a battle of wits. I’d much rather charge into this fucker’s house and slaughter each and every person who merely knows his goddamn name. I’m not patient. I don’t play games with fuckers. You piss me off, I drive a knife through your heart. You fuck me over, I plant lead in your skull. Threaten those I hold dear, and I will make you suffer in a way that’ll have you praying for an eternity in Hell.

Alexius expects too much of me, even though I’d probably demand the same if I were in his shoes. And Mira is way too accepting and understanding. I wish she’d show more hesitance and have difficulty understanding how all this works because then I’d have a pretty fucking solid excuse not to go through with this. But my wife is showing more backbone than I ever expected. Looking beautiful in her red dress that clings perfectly to her curves, the lace enclosed around her neck with her hair tied up high, she exudes elegance and poise. It’s like she’s finally stepped into the role she’s been born to play. Her confidence is that of a queen and ruler of man, a woman whose smile can seduce and lips that poison—an enchantress capable of anything. But that still doesn’t put me at ease. Just because she’s stronger than anyone has given her credit for doesn’t mean I can throw her to the wolves and hope they won’t bite.

Just then, I spot Nunzio Ferrero getting out of his limousine, buttoning up his suit jacket. The man’s a fucking snake, and he looks the part too.

He catches me glaring at him and struts toward me like we’re old friends from high school who were co-captains of the fucking lacrosse team. He has four men flanking him—a giant wall to protect the serpent wannabe-king.

“Nicoli,” he greets.

“Nunzio.” I pull Mira closer and slip an arm around her waist.

Nunzio’s slimy gaze drips down her body, and I want to tear his damn eyes out. “I was surprised when I received your brother’s invitation. I’ve been trying for years to get into this place.”

My nostrils flare. “Any specific reason?” We both know the answer, but I challenge him anyway.

“When one hears about paradise on Earth, it’s only natural to want to witness it for yourself.”

“Or create your own,” I say, and by the way he looks at me, I know he’s reading between the lines.

He huffs. “I don’t see the harm in two different versions of paradise coexisting.” He straightens his shoulders underneath his suit jacket. “Anyway. So, tell me, what I can expect from my first visit here? Any forbidden fruit for men with…darker tastes? You know what I mean?”

I’m picking up what he’s putting down, and I sure as fuck ain’t playing. “Like rape?” I bite out between clenched teeth and feel Mira stiffen beside me.

“No one said anything about rape.” His eyes flicker to Mira and then back at me again. “There’s nothing wrong with heavy petting or a little rough play between adults. You know what I mean?”

“I’m afraid we don’t,” Mira chimes in. Where is a roll of duct tape when you need it? “Please explain what it is you mean…exactly.” She spits out her last word, and I can practically taste her venom.

Nunzio is taken aback by Mirabella, not used to women speaking their minds, I bet. And he simply stares at her in a way that makes my fucking skin crawl.

Mira smiles. “Mr. Ferrero, if you are referring to dubious acts that entail hurting or harming any of the girls under our employment, I’m afraid this is not the place for you. But I do know of one that is far better suited for someone with your tastes.”

Nunzio rolls his tongue in his mouth.

“I think they call it Hell.” Mira speaks the words so fucking smoothly, it’s like an open palm slap to the cheek—and the look on Nunzio’s face confirms it.

His nostrils flare, and his eyes are dark orbs of rage. “It seems your wife isn’t familiar with her place, Mr. Del Rossa. Perhaps you need to teach her.”

Maximo steps in on Mira’s other side, and I gently ease her back as I take a step forward, boxing her in between Maximo and myself.

“Friendly warning, Nunzio. Keep your filthy mouth off my wife.”

“Then you better keep her on a fucking leash, or someone else will be forced to teach her tricks,” he spits out. “Like to go on her fucking knees.”

It’s instinct. There’s no thought process involved. There’s no assessing the pros and cons of what I’m about to do. It’s just the natural thing to do, like taking one breath after the other.

I reach for my gun tucked into my back when Mira’s hand wraps around my elbow, stilling me, whispering in my ear, “Don’t.” I freeze, not taking my eyes off Nunzio. “It’s what he wants.”

“Maximo, get my wife back into the car.”

Mira tightens her hold on my arm, her nails sinking into my flesh, a silent way of telling me she’s not going anywhere.

“I think it’s best you leave, Nunzio,” I say, still keeping my hand on my gun.

“I’m here on invitation by your brother.”

“And I’m revoking it.”

We stay rooted in our spots, and Nunzio’s jaw clenches. He’s hungry. I can smell it on him. He craves it just as much as I do. The blood. The violence. The mayhem. And he won’t stop until he gets it. All those fake apologies over what Felix did, pretending the Ferreros are in our debt, that there will be no retaliation—it’s all bullshit. If anything, it only made him more determined to take what’s ours and destroy us.

Nunzio presses his lips together, a silent challenge in his eyes which I accept with a simple nod.

A half grin spreads on his ugly motherfucking face as he turns to walk away but stops and glances over his shoulder. “By the way, Mrs. Del Rossa. My condolences for your loss. No child should lose her parents in such a cruel way.”

“Motherfucker!” I lash out, ready to tear his goddamn head off, when Maximo jumps in front of me, pushing me back.

“Not with her here,” Maximo warns, reminding me through the red haze that Mira is standing behind me. “Take her home. Now.”

Nunzio smirks. “I’d listen to your bodyguard here. This is no place for a beauty like her.

I’m clenching my jaw and biting my tongue, my veins burning with adrenaline, the monster in me ready to destroy and annihilate as I watch him walk away. Alexius was wrong. There is no avoiding a war between the Ferreros and us. The war already began that fateful night seventeen years ago. And my father might have chosen peace, but I don’t. I won’t.

I choose vengeance.

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