Nico

by Sarah Castille

  *

  Nico opened the throttle on his Ducati Superbike and turned off the road toward the Valley of Fire State Park. The winding roads through colorful cliffs, and past Lake Mead, were the best part of the journey. Usually he rode to relax and take his mind off all the responsibilities of being a capo, the constant need to assert his power, the delicate balancing act between illegitimate and legitimate businesses, the risk of violence, and the even greater risk of being caught. But today, he saw nothing except the asphalt rushing up to greet him, felt nothing but the cold mountain air on his face, and heard nothing except the rev of his engine and the pounding of his pulse in his ears.

  He wanted to get away, and yet the road would take him back. Back to the promise he whispered as his father died. Back to the legacy his father had left him and the responsibility of caring for a family that was now a mix of crime and blood.

  From the Cadillac he drove, to the Vacheron Constantin watch he wore, and from his Brioni suits, to his Italian leather shoes, he was everything his father wanted him to be. And yet there were chinks in his armor. Small defiances that only his mother would understand: the ink on his body, the leather jackets, boots and jeans he preferred to wear, the bike he rode weekly into the desert in search of something he hadn’t realized was missing until he held Mia in his arms.

  He wanted her.

  He wanted her with a ferocity that took his breath away.

  He wanted her with every drop of his bastard blood.

  He wanted her on his bike and in his bed. He wanted her by his side and beneath his body.

  What would it be like to have a woman with her strength by his side? A woman who defied convention, forged her own path, and knew her own mind. A woman who at once challenged and infuriated him, seduced and resisted him. A woman who was prepared to sacrifice herself for her family, to give herself to him for the rest of her life.

  And he’d said no.

  Torn between doing his duty to his family and following his heart’s desire, bastard in all ways, he’d said no.

  Nothing in his life had cut him as bad as watching her crumble. There was nothing in his life he regretted more than causing her pain.

  What the fuck was he supposed to do?

  He had rehashed the terrible meeting over and over in his mind, and every time bile rose in his throat, and guilt wracked his soul. He remembered everything in painfully excruciating detail—the way her hand shook when she gave him the contract, the chipped, painted nails, the mask that hid her beautiful skin, her clear discomfort in the hideous pink outfit, the bun that hid her glorious hair, the way she wobbled on her heels, the hope that had shattered in her face.

  His heart ached at the thought of his brave, strong Mia; so desperate she would dress in the clothes she hated and offer herself willingly into a life she despised, so afraid she would ask for help.

  No.

  He had destroyed her with just one word. He had destroyed himself.

  Nico leaned into the curves as the road wound back and forth through the park. Faster, faster, so fast adrenaline pumped through his body, a heady mixture of excitement and fear. One slip, and it would all be over. One slip, and he would die his father’s son but not his own man.

  He slowed the bike. Pulled up at a lookout. Stared over the mountain pass. Luca pulled up behind him, reminding him a boss was never truly alone.

  “Everything okay, boss?” Luca dismounted, patrolled the gravel as if danger was afoot.

  “Yeah. Just taking a minute. Then we’ll head back to the city.” Luca and Frankie were the only soldiers in his crew who knew how to ride, so they took turns on guard duty when Nico went out on his bike. Big Joe would be coming up behind them in his vehicle, just in case they had problems with their bikes.

  “I always come up here when I have girl trouble,” Luca said.

  “I’ve never seen you with just one girl.” Luca had become the manwhore of the club after his wife died, going through women so fast, Nico couldn’t keep track.

  “That’s why I come here. Every time I start thinking about getting serious with some chick, I come here and remind myself why I’m not doing it all again. If what we had was love, it isn’t worth the fucking pain.”

  Nico dismounted his bike and stared out over the valley. He had learned that lesson when he watched his mother cry every Saturday after his father went back to his wife. And he’d learned it again when she’d decided to run away with Nico in search of love, and died in the attempt. As always, his father had it right. A political marriage would keep his heart safe and his mind focused on what he needed to do to ensure the success and survival of the family.

  If Mia married Tony, she would become part of the family. Nico would see her every Sunday at Nonna Maria’s family gatherings. He would see her as he saw her today, everything that he loved about her hidden away beneath the veneer of a respectable mob wife, everything he wanted, crushed beneath the weight of tradition, her wings clipped when she had only just gotten free. How could he bear to see her fire gone? What would he do if he saw even the hint of a bruise on her beautiful face?

  Tony wouldn’t have exclusive rights to “crazy” after that.

  “You didn’t love Gina?” Luca had married Gina in a shotgun wedding after getting her pregnant. He’d never expressed any discontent about the situation, and they’d seemed happy together, especially after Matteo was born, but she was not the kind of woman he would have ever picked for Luca. Too brash. Too loud. Too shallow. Too needy. Luca had taken to carrying two phones, one just to field her constant calls, and the other for business.

  “Who the fuck knows?” Luca fiddled with the zipper on his jacket, and Nico realized they’d never talked about Gina’s death before. He had never witnessed the utter destruction of a man, until he went with Luca to identify her body. He’d assumed love had crushed Luca’s soul, but now he wondered if something was going on.

  Nico’s hands tightened around the railing. His entire life had been about the family—duty, honor, and revenge—and the best thing for the family was to stand aside while Tony married Mia. The marriage would provide a short-term benefit in the form of a truce between the families, and a long-term benefit in the form of increased family security and power after he married the girl from Sicily, and dealt with Don Cordano and Tony in a permanent way. It made perfect business sense. It was what his father would have done. But it didn’t align with the yearning in his heart.

  “I don’t want to speak bad about her,” Luca said into the silence. “I cared about her enough to marry her when I could have just walked away. And she gave me Matteo. When he was born, I thought there might actually be a heaven and maybe I did something right in my sorry life because God sent me an angel of my very own.”

  “Yeah, I know that feeling.” Big Joe joined them at the railing. “First time I realized I had a heart was when I held my kid in my arms. One day maybe I’ll find a woman who makes me feel like that, and my fucking heart will start beating again.”

  Nico’s heart had started beating the moment he laid eyes on Mia, and it had stopped when he gave her up to Tony.

  “Your talents are wasted in the mob.” Nico mounted his bike. “You two should be writing fucking greeting cards.”

  Nico wanted vengeance, but he wanted Mia more. Vengeance had left him empty inside, blind to what was going on around him, deaf to the rumblings on the street as Tony secretly gathered more and more power in anticipation of the day Santo was whacked. If he had been on the ball, he wouldn’t be on his back foot in the fight for control of the family. If he had thought and planned ahead, he would have been able to secure his power the day Santo died. Mia offered him more than just an opportunity to save his family. He could save her. He could save himself. He could make his heart beat again, and he could give it away.

  “Where are we going next, boss?” Luca mounted his bike.

  “Back to the city. I’m getting married tonight.”

  SEVENTEEN

  Bang.
Bang. Bang.

  “Mia! It’s Nico. Open the door.”

  Bang. Bang. Bang. He thudded again on the motel room door. Big Joe had confirmed Mia was inside with her sister. They had no time to waste.

  He heard the bolt slide and chains rattle. The door opened and he pushed his way through with Luca and Frankie behind him. “Let’s go. If I could find you, your father won’t be far behind.” He spun around, startled when he saw her gun. If he’d expected a broken, tearful, terrified woman, he was sorely mistaken. He had come to rescue a kitten and found a tiger instead.

  “Put that away.” He waved a dismissive hand. “We have to leave right now.”

  “Jules called and told me you were coming. Get out.” She backed up, pushing a girl behind her. Taller than Mia, and slim, she shared Mia’s long dark hair and dark eyes, but her face was more oval than heart-shaped, and she wore light, floaty clothes covered in flowers, a decided contrast to Mia’s black outfit—all leather, chains, and laces.

  “We don’t have time for this,” he said impatiently. “I’m here to help.” Nico scraped a hand through his hair. It had taken all day to track them down using his network of contacts and calling in favors.

  “Come.” He gestured again to the door, and Mia shook her head.

  “Thanks for the effort, but I’m not going with you. I’m done with the mob. This is a family matter, and I’ll deal with it my own way.”

  Damn stubborn woman. “You asked for my help,” he gritted out. “I’m giving it to you.”

  “I asked, and you refused. I realize now I didn’t need your help. We’ll be fine on our own. I hacked my father’s phone. I’ll be able to track them and keep us safe.”

  Cristo mio. “I came to marry you, Mia. You can’t get safer than that.” Once he had the marriage certificate, he would use the threat of the alliance to oust Tony. He would take over as boss of the family, get close to Don Cordano and whack the fucking bastard. He figured Mia would no longer have any objections. Although, he didn’t know what Don Cordano had done to her sister, it was bad enough that she had thought to offer herself up to him as a mob wife to save her, and when he refused, to take her sister and go on the run.

  After Don Cordano was out of the way, Nico would make Dante the notional head of the Cordano side of the family, cement the alliance, and Mia and her sister would be protected. Everyone would live happily ever after. Aside from the Scozzari family agreement, which he had yet to address, and the small matter of a few grumblings from New York, it was the perfect plan.

  “Married?” Her beautiful face twisted in a scowl. “I’m running away because I don’t want to be married to the mob. Maybe you didn’t pick that up when you mentioned you were engaged.”

  Nico frowned. Obviously the engagement was no longer an issue since he was here offering to marry her. He was a good-looking man. Fit. Wealthy. Powerful. Very skilled in bed. He hadn’t expected her to find the idea quite so distasteful, especially since she had come up with it in the first place. “It’s the only way. We’re not strangers, bella. You’re not an unattractive woman so it’s no hardship for me. And we get on fine.”

  “I’m not unattractive? We get on fine?” She threw the words back at him, her voice rising in pitch. Sensing a heaping dose of disrespect coming his way, Nico ushered everyone out of the room with instructions to take Kat to his Escalade and guard her until he and Mia were ready to go.

  “Those aren’t reasons to get married,” Mia snapped, after the door closed. “And what about the part where you told me you were engaged? All this time you’ve been lying to me, leading me on.”

  Dammit. How could he get through to her? “Your alternative is getting married to a man who means to break you, who will take everything you own, and destroy everything you are, a man who plans to start a war with all the families in the city. Dozens of lives will be lost.”

  “Or I could run away with Kat.” She put her hands on her hips, clearly not appreciating the gravity of the situation. “And then I can hack into all his accounts, and destroy him financially. He’ll be too busy worrying about his money to come after us.”

  Nico closed the distance between them. “Mi bella,” he said softly. “We still deal in cash for that very reason. Your father is desperate for an alliance, and you and your sister are his best way of securing one. He will not let you go easily. You will always be looking over your shoulder. But I can keep you safe.” He reached for her, and Mia slapped his hand away.

  “I don’t trust you anymore, Nico. I’d rather take my chances on the run than forever with you.”

  “If a divorce is what you want, and the time is right, I will be willing to break with tradition and petition the New York bosses to let you go.” It was an easy promise to make because he knew they would never say yes, but he could see in her eyes that it was a deal breaker, and if he’d learned anything in this life, it was how to close a deal.

  “Let me go?” Her eyes flashed, and despite her bitterness, it just made him want her even more.

  “It is the man’s prerogative.”

  She bristled at his words. “And that right there is the problem.”

  “Would it help if I told you I have never met or spoken to the woman I am engaged to? That my father arranged the marriage when I was six years old? I have been in touch with the family only sporadically over the years. But she means nothing to me save for an alliance that I would need only if you marry Tony.”

  “You want to use me,” she said bitterly.

  “No, bella. Marriage is not something I have seen bring any joy to people, and it is not something I ever wanted. Even the old-school political marriages never sat well with me. I regret that my reaction to your proposal caused you pain.” He reached for her, stroked her cheek. This time he wasn’t denied, and she shuddered beneath his touch.

  “I felt humiliated.”

  “Mia, tesoro … non era mia intenzione ferirti—I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “You grovel well in Italian,” she said, her voice softening. “It seems it’s not just the language of love.”

  Taking a chance, Nico drew closer, brushed a kiss over her forehead. “If I have to marry, I want a willing partner. I can protect you with this marriage. I can protect your sister. I can end a war. We may not have love between us, but we have respect and a commitment beyond ourselves.”

  Nico felt a curious stab in his chest. He cared for Mia. So much that the thought of losing her had almost been unbearable. But he didn’t want to call it love. He’d lived through the devastation of his mother’s tears, and watched men crumble. Love was not an experience he wished to have.

  “If we do this,” she bit out, “and I’m not saying yes, you won’t be telling me what to do. I’ll continue working, and you won’t interfere with my business.”

  “Of course, you may continue to work.” He smiled, tasting success.

  “What would you expect of me?”

  His lips quivered at the corners. “What you offered. You would have to play the role of a proper Mafia wife. You would need to dress and act the part in public.”

  Mia snorted. “Submissive.”

  “Supportive,” he countered, stroking her cheek. “But when we are alone together, I want this.” His finger skimmed the crescents of her breasts, just visible about the V of her T-shirt. “I want you the way you are, with your kick-ass boots, your torn stockings, leather and lace, and these outfits that drive me fucking crazy with the need to tear them off you. I want your angry feminist punk music, and your silver chains, and the ink that tells me you are not a conventional woman.” His hands found her hips, and he drew her toward him. “I want your strength, your sweetness, and all your sass.”

  She twisted her lips to the side, considering. “I’m not wearing a wedding dress.”

  “If we want everyone to believe it is real, it needs to look real. We can rent something just for the ceremony. Ten minutes at most. I have an associate who runs a store on the Strip. Anything else?” He cup
ped her face in his hands, stroking his thumbs over her soft cheeks.

  “No more sex. It will complicate things.”

  That was unexpected. And totally unacceptable. “I can’t agree to that,” he said firmly. “If we get married, even if it isn’t real, I want everything.” He smoothed one hand over her curves. Even the simple negotiation with her was making him hard; there was no way he could share a bed and keep his hands off a woman who aroused him the minute she walked into a room. “I want a marriage in every sense of the word. You will live with me, sleep in my bed, and give yourself to me. You will be mine. Completely. In every sense of the word.”

  “Until it ends,” she added. “Because when the war is over and you’re the boss, and we’ve found a way to keep Kat safe, we won’t need each other anymore. And you did say you would agree to a divorce.”

  “Until it ends.” He agreed with great reluctance, not just because part of him didn’t want it to end, but also because he knew it wouldn’t end. She didn’t seem to understand that, in a way, this was a sacrifice for him, too. He had never wanted a marriage, and the one he had envisioned was one where his heart would never be at risk.

  Mia fiddled with the zipper on his leather jacket. He had forgone his suit and vehicle for the speed and freedom of his bike in his pursuit. “The sex part is going to make it harder when it’s over. Especially if I have to see you dressed like this.”

  “Are you afraid you might fall for me?” He leaned in and nuzzled her neck, breathing in the light, floral scent of her perfume. His Mia was a study in contrasts. With a soft moan, she tilted her head to the side, giving him better access, and he feathered kisses down her neck.

  “I’m afraid you won’t let me go,” she whispered.

  She was right to be afraid. Nico had never considered marrying any woman other than Rosa Scozzari, but if had to pick a woman it would be Mia. She intrigued and challenged him, enticed and excited him. She was brave, intelligent, and confident; the most sensual woman he had ever met.