by L A Cotton
Luis doubled back to go outside. Enzo leaned in and kept his voice low. “I don’t like this, Nic.”
“You don’t have to like it. But maybe Luis is right, maybe he does have good intel.” Lord only knew we needed it. Tommy and Stefan were still yet to dig up anything useful on Mike Fascini, and my old man wasn’t exactly over the moon when I told him me and Arianne were here. But he knew I wouldn’t relent again. He hadn’t even bothered to try to order me back to Boston.
I wasn’t going.
I’d stay in the cabin for now, but if it came to it, I would return home and face any consequences.
“We can’t trust him, he’s Fascini’s best friend,” Enzo spat the words, “or have you forgotten that?”
My mind went to two nights ago when I’d stood in the hospital room, confessing my deepest, darkest sins to Tristan. I’d assumed he was asleep... but I wasn’t sure now.
“Let’s just hear him out.”
Enzo pursed his lips, disapproval glittering in his eyes. “You hear him out. I’m going to take a drive around the perimeter, make sure Vitelli definitely covered his tracks.”
“You’re sure?”
“I think it’s for the best. I’m not sure I can be held responsible for my actions if I have to sit and listen to any of Capizola’s bullshit.”
“Okay, but don’t be too long.”
Enzo stalked out of the cabin just as Arianne and Tristan came inside.
“I know this is as awkward as fuck,” Tristan stepped forward, raking a hand through his hair. He looked pale, his eyes sunken and ringed with dark circles.
Guilt flooded me, but it didn’t override the need to protect Arianne. My hand slid inside my jacket and before giving it a second thought, I whipped out my pistol, pressing it right against his temple.
“Nicco!” Arianne shrieked and Luis moved to her side, gently holding her back.
But Tristan didn’t flinch. His hands went slowly up at his sides. “I swear, Marchetti, I’m here to help that’s all.”
“How can I trust you?”
“You can’t.” He inhaled a ragged breath. “You’re just going to have to take a leap of faith. She’s my cousin, she’s family. Surely you can appreciate that.”
Family meant everything to me, but to people like Tristan, people like Roberto Capizola and Mike Fascini, even family could be pawns. They’d proved that more than once.
We were locked in an impasse. I didn’t want to trust him—everything inside me screamed at me not to trust him—but we needed allies.
We needed answers.
And he was one person who could possibly give them to us.
“I’m sorry,” the words were out of me before I could stop them. I pulled my pistol away and engaged the safety, shoving it back in the waistband of my jeans.
“You don’t need to apologize,” he said. “I think once is enough, don’t you?” His expression turned smug.
So he had been awake the other night.
I didn’t know whether to be relieved or embarrassed.
“Let’s sit.” I walked over to the sectional. Arianne sat down beside me, sliding her hand into mine. She cast me a concerned look.
“I had to,” I whispered.
“I know.” She gave me a sad smile.
Tristan and Luis took the chairs opposite. Silence stretched out before us. Thick and heavy with the secrets of our past. Tense with the reality of our current predicament.
“I should probably start,” Tristan said. “I got discharged from hospital yesterday.”
“I didn’t know.” Arianne sat a little straighter.
“Mom picked me up and I crashed.
“I headed over to the estate this morning, hoping to catch Uncle Roberto. I wanted to talk to him about some things...” His eyes flicked from Arianne to mine. “I knew something was wrong the second I got there.”
“You saw my father?”
He gave Arianne a sharp nod. “He was beside himself. I’ve never seen anything like it. Aunt Gabriella was trying to console him, but he got so angry. He trashed his office. That’s when she told me everything.”
Arianne stiffened. “H- how much?”
“Everything.”
“Oh.” She pressed closer to me.
“I want you to know I’m on your side, Ari. I didn’t know...” He let out a weary sigh. “If I’d have known what he would do, I would never have pushed the relationship. I didn’t—”
“Stop, just stop.” She breathed. “You said I needed to grow up and live in the real world. You said it was my destiny whether I liked it or not. You said that.”
“Fuck, I know, but I didn’t think it meant this. You were supposed to date, fall in love, and get engaged.” He paled. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, I swear.”
“But you knew about my father’s plans for me and Scott. You knew, and you never said a word.”
“Shit, Ari. I know it sounds bad when you say it like that, but this is your legacy. You are the Capizola heir, one day the entire empire will be yours. Scott was my best friend. I thought you would be a great match. I thought it made good business sense. That’s just how it is in this life.”
“He’s a monster.”
Shame filled Tristan’s eyes. “I realize that now. He’s always been... intense. But I didn’t know he would...” He swallowed hard, rubbing his jaw as if the words were just too painful to say.
“He raped me, Tristan. He slipped something into my drink at the Gala and raped me.” Arianne’s voice shook, but it was nothing compared to the rage boiling beneath my skin.
“You never said anything. You never—”
“Would it have mattered?” Her voice cracked. “I tried to tell my father and he acted like I was making a big deal about nothing. He downplayed my being raped because it didn’t fit into his business plans.” Bitterness clung to her words, but Arianne didn’t cower. She didn’t cry or whimper. She sat tall, her eyes locked on her cousin, on her family, as she purged her thoughts.
“He deserves your wrath,” Tristan buried his face in his hands, scraping his fingers through his hair, “We both do. But the second I found out the truth, I called Luis.”
“Is this true?”
Arianne’s bodyguard nodded.
“You are my family, Ari, my blood. Scott hurt you which means he hurt me. I knew he could be a little forward. But I didn’t know... I swear. Either way, I’m done. He’s no one to me now.”
“Just like that?” I scoffed. “Sounds too fucking convenient to me.”
Tristan met my icy stare. He deserved some credit. Few people faced off with me like that. “We’ve all made mistakes, man. But Scott... he’s obsessed with her. Uncle Roberto knows she isn’t safe.”
“So why the fuck did he promise her to that piece of shit?”
Tristan let out a heavy sigh, but it was Arianne who spoke. “I don’t know that I can trust you again. You were on his side, Tristan.”
“I appreciate that, and I know I don’t deserve a second chance.” He gave her a sad smile. “But I’d like the chance to earn it back.”
She gave him a small nod,
“Okay.” He sagged back into the chair. “So I always knew Uncle Roberto wanted to secure your future. After Antonio Marchetti tried to have you—”
“It wasn’t Antonio,” Arianne said.
“What?” Tristan’s eyes almost bugged. “But it had to be. Uncle Roberto said—”
“She’s telling the truth,” I added. “It was Mike Fascini. We think he did it to try to set my father up and incite war between our families. When it failed, we think he decided to try another approach.”
Tristan’s brow drew together. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he do that?”
“Because there’s something else,” I said. “Something we only recently found out.”
“Go on...”
“What do you know of the name Ricci?”
“Ricci? As in Elena Ricci? The girl who betrayed our family a
nd ran off with Emilio Marchetti?”
I nodded. “Mike is Elena’s grandson.”
“Cazzo!” His eyes went wide. “So this is what? Some sick attempt at righting history?”
“Michael Fascini, Mike’s father, never got over what happened. According to his aunt, he became obsessed with getting vengeance. He moved to Verona County in the seventies with the sole purpose of getting even. When he died, Mike took over the reins and here we are.”
“So Mike’s the puppet master? It makes sense.” He scrubbed his jaw before fixing his eyes on Arianne. “I know your father doesn’t seem like he has your best interests at heart, Ari, but he loves you.”
“He has a funny way of showing it.”
“But if Mike has been pulling the strings all along, maybe he didn’t have a choice.”
The thought had occurred to me, but it still didn’t excuse Roberto’s actions.
“Do you think Scott knows the truth?” Tristan asked.
“We don’t know. If he does, he risked everything last night and his father is likely to be pissed. If he wants to keep his hands clean, he needs Capizola Holdings and Arianne was his insurance policy.”
“Hold on a second.” Arianne grabbed my arm. “You think I’m a bargaining chip?”
I twisted my body around to look at her. “It’s possible Mike threatened to harm you again unless your father complied, yes.”
“I- I don’t know what to say.” The blood had completely drained from Tristan’s face. “I came here ready to offer to talk to Uncle Roberto, to make him see sense. I didn’t realize... fuck. What are we going to do?”
“We?” I raised a brow.
“I’m here, aren’t I? I want to help.”
“You need to buy us some time while we figure out our next move. Arianne cannot go back now, no matter what happens.”
“Agreed.” Tristan gave me a sharp nod. “But what about my uncle and aunt? If Mike wants Capizola Holdings, there are other ways to make it happen.”
“I guess you need to make sure that doesn’t happen. Arianne is my priority, and until we can be sure Fascini doesn’t have a failsafe we can’t touch him.” He was one of the most prominent men in Verona County. If he turned up dead or missing, it would raise questions.
Questions that could lead back to the Family.
“What’s it going to require to take him down?” For the first time since he’d arrived, I saw the fight in Tristan’s eyes. He might not have been ready to bury the hatred between our families, but he was here for Arianne. And right now, that’s all that mattered.
“If we want to avoid bloodshed, we need to be able to pin something on him. Something that will make sure he never sees the light of day again.” He deserved to rot in Hell for what he’d done to Arianne. But a six by four cell would do all the same.
It all started with him, and it would end with him.
“And Scott?”
“He’s mine,” I ground out, feeling the familiar lick of fury skate up my spine.
“We have the evidence, Nicco.” Arianne tugged my arm. “We can take it to the authorities.”
Tristan caught my eye. He gave me an imperceptible nod, and I knew what he was telling me.
Scott was a dead man walking.
“Nicco?” Arianne spoke more forcefully this time, and I gave her my attention.
“It’s okay, Bambolina. I’m okay.” I pulled her into my side and kissed the top of her head.
I didn’t want to lie to her.
But she didn’t need to know that I wouldn’t rest until I’d had my pound of Scott Fascini’s flesh.
AFTER WE HATCHED A tentative plan, Tristan and Luis left.
Tristan would return home and try to find out everything he could about the nature of Mike Fascini’s plan. He would also try and buy some time. Our enemy had become a turncoat. It was a risk, but it was better than doing nothing.
“You’re quiet,” I said to Arianne. She was reading a book she’d found on one of the shelves. Except, she hadn’t turned a page in almost ten minutes, so she was either a really slow reader or she was using the book as a distraction.
I leaned over and snagged it from her hands.
“Hey,” she protested. “I was reading that.”
I gave her a pointed look and she let out a weary sigh. “Fine, you caught me.”
“It’s okay to need some space. If you want me to leave—”
“What? No!” She sat up. “I just... Do you think I should forgive Tristan?”
“That is not my decision to make.”
“They both let me down, Nicco. When I needed them, my father and Tristan let me down.”
“I know, Bambolina. Come here.” I pulled her into my side. “You are so strong. It’s okay to not want to forgive easily. But don’t let your resentment fester. Eventually, there will come a day when you must decide to forgive or forget. But know that I’ll be right here by your side and I’ll support whatever decision you make, okay?”
She gave me the faintest of nods before kissing me. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”
“It is me who should be thanking you. You make the world a brighter place, Arianne.”
Emotion swirled in her eyes as she suppressed a smile. “Tell me about L’Anello’s.” She cleared her throat. “About what you do there.”
“You really want to know this stuff?”
“I want to know everything, but I know there will always be things you can’t share with me. So all I ask is that you share the pieces you can.”
“Fighting helps me burn off steam. I guess you could say it’s a way to fight my demons.”
She tensed. “But you could get hurt.”
“Sometimes I want to hurt. It helps remind me that I’m alive.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“You’re not the only one who has spent their life caged, Bambolina. I didn’t ask for this life, it was decided for me. And I’ve made my peace with that, I have. But sometimes... sometimes I need to push back.”
“So fighting is your way of retaining some control?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“I don’t like the idea of you getting hurt.” Arianne leaned closer, brushing her nose along mine.
“It comes with the territory.”
“What will life be like, for us, I mean?” Her voice wavered. “Will I be expected to stay at home and raise a houseful of babies?”
Laughter bubbled in my chest. “While that image does all kinds of crazy things to me,” I grinned, my heart so fucking full I wanted to drag her to the bedroom and make a start, “I will always support your dreams, Arianne.”
I wasn’t my father. I didn’t intend on ruling my household with an iron fist. I wanted Arianne to flourish. I wanted her to be happy.
“I think I want to help people, like at the VCTI.”
“You have a big heart.”
“But babies,” she whispered against the corner of my mouth, “you want that one day?”
“I want everything with you, amore mio. But we’re young, we have time.”
Arianne was quiet but the contented sigh that spilled from her lips gave me reassurance she wasn’t stewing on our conversation.
“I was thinking,” she said after a couple of minutes. “Can Alessia come visit?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. The fewer people coming to and from the cabin, the better. At least, for now.”
“Okay.”
“You’re not going to fight me on it?”
“I trust you Nicco.” She smiled. “I trust you to keep me safe.”
“It’s all I want,” I replied, ghosting my lips over hers.
Until my very last breath.
Chapter 22
Arianne
“Hmm, morning.” I snuggled closer to Nicco. He was still asleep, strands of hair falling over his eyes a little.
I watched him, smiling to myself at how perfect the moment was. Because this time, I woul
dn’t have to say goodbye.
After Enzo had left us, we’d spent the night curled up on the sectional watching movies. Luis had stayed, but he’d made himself scarce.
I loved it out here, away from everything and everyone, where we could be together without judgment or scrutiny.
I knew it wasn’t real. I knew our bubble would soon come to an end. But I intended on savoring every second we had together.
“I can feel you staring,” Nicco murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
“That’s because I am staring.” I painted circles on his chest, ghosting my fingers over his scars.
He snagged my wrist, bringing my hand to his lips, sending a shiver up my spine. “Good morning, Bambolina.”
“Good morning.”
“I could get used to this,” he shifted onto his back, fixing his stormy eyes on mine.
“I was thinking the same thing. It’s so peaceful out here.”
“We’d have to get rid of the bodyguard though.” His mouth curved with amusement.
“And change the locks. I wouldn’t want Enzo strolling in at any given time.” Dipping my head, I brushed my lips over his. “I need a girl’s minute and then I’ll make some coffee.”
“Okay.”
I climbed out of bed and pulled on Nicco’s oversized MU t-shirt. Enzo had bought us some extra clothes, but I was going to need my own things if we stayed here for any length of time.
It was strange.
I knew I was supposed to be worrying about everything: classes and my volunteer work at the VCTI, but it all seemed so insignificant given the circumstances.
After visiting the bathroom, I quickly brushed my teeth before heading for the kitchenette. Luis was already up and dressed, reading a newspaper.
“Good morning,” I said. “Coffee?”
“I wouldn’t say no to another.” He slid his mug toward me. “Did you sleep okay?”
“I did, thank you. What about you?”
“I got a couple of hours.”
“We’re safe out here, Luis.”
He smiled. “Old habits die hard, I guess. Is Nicco—”
“Right here.” He padded into the kitchen, stealing my breath. He’d pulled on some sweats but left his t-shirt off, the hard lines of his body rippling and flexing.