Nicoli: Chapter 2

I park my car in front of the house—my new Maserati GranCabrio’s headlights casting a stark light against the old-world elegance paired with the modern architecture of the Victorian-style mansion. The LaFerrari lost that new-car smell which, to me, is always justification enough to buy a new car.

Leaning my head back against the seat, taking in the view of the house, I remember a time when getting my dick wet had me feeling like I was on top of the fucking world. A time when a trip to Myth would have me smiling all the way back home.

Now…not so much.

Now, I just feel numb, and try as I may, I can’t seem to fuck myself out of this humorless funk. It’s like the older I get, the stronger the battle with my own head.

I step out of the car, and my eyes are immediately drawn up to the second floor. I’m not the least bit surprised when I see Alexius and Leandra fucking against their bedroom window, Leandra’s naked body writhing against the glass, her palms and tits flush against it. The gentle yellow pools of light from the outside lamps illuminate them, accenting their curves. Leandra looks down, and our eyes meet. I don’t look away, and neither does she. This is what they do, what they get off on—having people watch them fuck each other. It’s their guilty pleasure, and sometimes mine, too.

Alexius slips a hand between Leandra and the window, cupping her breast and tugging at her nipple. His other hand reaches around her waist and dips low, cupping her pussy, and I know he has his fingers on her clit by the way her warm breath leaves a mist against the glass.

I smile, thinking of an old memory. A secret memory. Ours.

I have to give it to my brother; he landed a fucking jewel when he found that woman. But standing out here in the cold watching them also reminds me why I have to get out of this damn house every chance I get. It’s Alexius and Leandra’s constant, high-pitched gushing over the twins, Isaia’s newfound platonic friendship with Leandra, Maximo’s talent to somehow be everywhere at the same damn time—it’s all working on my last goddamn nerve. And don’t even get me started on Mirabella and those plump, blood-red lips and hourglass curves.

I can see it every time our eyes meet, her silent desire and screaming questions. Those are the moments I become the world’s biggest asshole by looking away as if the thought of sparing her a single fucking glance is beneath me—like she’s nothing but an insignificant piece of furniture in this house. When it comes to her, I’ve perfected the art of aversion.

Her constant smiling, her incessant babbling, and positive take on life annoy me on a good day. One would think after what she had been through, she’d see the world for what it really is. Fucked-up, unfair, and just a giant black hole that swallows everyone who isn’t strong enough to survive it. But no, she goes around smiling as if life has only given her roses, rainbows, and unicorns.

She suffocates me. The air becomes heavy and dense, like smoke, whenever she enters the room, and that’s why I can’t fuck-off out of there fast enough.

I’m a douchebag around her. Well, technically, I’m always a douchebag, but when she’s close, I become a douchebag with a side of asshole.

Raindrops start to fall, the water droplets slipping down the black paint of my Maserati. Even the weather is pissing me off. The sunny days, chilly breeze, and late-night thundershowers say that the seasons can’t make up their goddamn minds. So, is it still summer, or is it time for motherfucking fall already? Jesus.

My heavy footsteps break the silence of the house as I start up the stairs. If my mom were still here, I’d make an effort to be quieter, but she still hasn’t returned from the family vineyard in Tuscany. She left last year, shortly after my father died. The plan wasn’t for her to stay there permanently, but we knew it would happen. This house is haunted by too many memories—good and bad. But it’s the good ones that make it impossible for her to walk through these halls without being reminded of what she lost the day my father took his last breath. It’s been a year, and the weight of his influence and power still lingers in every corner. Vincenzo Del Rossa was once the heart of this family—the one that built the Dark Sovereign into the empire it is today. An empire my brothers and I will protect with our lives. Ask my uncle, Roberto, whose body got burned and his ashes flushed down the motherfucking toilet. Fucker wanted to ruin our family so he could rule and forge alliances that would one day put the Dark Sovereign in the hands of people who didn’t have Del Rossa blood flowing through their veins. He refused to accept that the Dark Sovereign doesn’t forge alliances. We don’t bargain, and we don’t make deals. We are strong enough to stand on our own. But that fucker had to die to figure it out.

“Hey, man.”

I still and turn to face Alexius, watching him pull a shirt over his head and close his bedroom door as he steps into the dimly lit hall.

“Everything good over at Myth?”

“Yeah.” I square my shoulders. “You’d know that if you were at the club more often.”

“You know I don’t go to Myth without Leandra anymore.” He grins. “You missing me over there?”

“Me? No. But Vera misses having her pussy tag-teamed by all four Del Rossa brothers.”

“Seriously?” He stares at me, deadpan.

I shrug. “She still sucks dick like a pro, though. She sends her love, by the way.”

Alexius sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I swear to God, sometimes I forget what an ass you are.”

“Talking about ass, I see you and Leandra are still fucking like rabbits.”

“Jesus.”

“What? You can’t expect to fuck your wife against a window for the whole world to see and not have me crack some wiseass remark about it.” I slip my hands into my pants pockets. “I just hope to God you got her on some real birth control, because the last thing this house needs is more babies. Having the twins and Isaia around is all the whining I can handle.”

Alexius snickers, and he rubs the back of his neck. “What I have my wife on is none of your business, brother.”

“I know you had her on your dick less than ten minutes ago.”

“Good night, Nicoli.”

“It’s not my job. You know that, right?”

“What is not your job?” Alexius sighs.

“Taking care of shit at Myth like I’m the heir who ascended to the throne when our father died.”

“What are you saying?”

“You’re the Boss, Alexius. Not me. You should be at the club doing what the Boss is supposed to do. Rule.”

Alexius rests his hands on his sides, glancing down at his bare feet. “I know it’s not your job to stand in for me when I’m not there. That’s why I’m not asking you to do it as a Del Rossa. I’m asking you to do it as my brother.”

“Aw, fuck. Are you serious?” I roll my eyes. “You had to go play the brother card? Now I not only want to kick your ass, I want to give you a hug while doing it.”

Alexius smirks. “Good night…brother.”

“Good night, Boss. Give Leandra my lo—” the door slams shut in my face “—ve.” I grin.

In the last thirty years, I’ve come to the conclusion that God made us twins and gave me the power to ruffle Alexius’ feathers. Fuck knows, that peacock needs some ruffling every now and then. I’ve been consciously rubbing his face in the fact that he has taken on a less active role in managing Myth every chance I get. That doesn’t mean I don’t get it. I do. The man is married with two kids. His responsibilities shifted; his world changed. It is what it is—and it also happens to be why I do what needs to be done to keep my world from changing.

It’s almost three in the morning, and I walk past Mira’s bedroom door, when I stop, exhaling a heavy sigh. I know what I’m about to do even though I’m trying so fucking hard to convince myself not to. It’s something I do every damn time on nights like these—nights when being with other women does nothing to calm my heated blood. If anything, it only makes me more on edge, sharpening the blades of resentment that cut through me every goddamn day.

I bite my bottom lip, swallowing a frustrated growl as I turn and wrap my fingers around the doorknob, hating that I can’t even walk past her bedroom without feeling like an asshole.

I wiggle the knob the tiniest bit, then wait and listen, making sure she’s asleep before quietly opening the door and stepping inside. I close the door behind me, and her scent drowns my senses. A sensuous musk with delicate jasmine. Familiar. Sensual. Utterly toxic to my system. There are so many other women who wear the same brand of perfume Mira does, but somehow, she’s able to make it uniquely hers. A smell that reminds me of a decision I made fifteen years ago, a decision I’m still paying for today. A decision I’m finding hard not to regret when I’m able to look at her like this—without pretense and secret vendettas. When I can stare without worrying someone might notice…that she might notice.

“We do what we have to to protect the ones we care for.”

My feet rest on the floor, planted firmly as I watch her sleep from across the room. I’ve stood at this exact spot so many times before, I can navigate this room blindfolded without making a sound.

There’s no moonlight shining through her window or outside lights casting a glow over her features. But I can see her. I can see her as clearly as the fucking sun. Her blonde hair is splayed over her white silk pillowcase, the red straps of her nightgown touching the ivory skin of her shoulders. It’s Mira’s favorite color. Red. After everything, one would think she’d hate the crimson shade. But instead, she’s grown to love it like it’s somehow connected to good memories. But I know it’s not.

I breathe deeply, allowing her scent to infiltrate my soul so I can be reminded of a bond that once was—a bond I severed the day I stood in a river of blood for her.

My chest constricts with an ache I’m all too familiar with. It’s an ache I force myself to feel because it keeps me focused on what needs to be done.

It sucks to be me.

Silently, I step out of her room and close the door, feeling his presence behind me before turning to face him. Our gazes lock, and a knowing look passes between us. He knows the truth, and so do I. We’re the only ones who know, and we’ll do anything we can to keep it that way.

I straighten my shoulders, looking Maximo in the eye. “You need to protect her.”

“From what?”

I turn and stomp in the other direction. “From me.”