by Nikki Ash
I worked myself into a frenzy of anxiety. The thought of just sitting in my apartment and not talking to Nico was freaking me out. I had to tell him. Like now.
I impulsively got dressed into jeans and a sweatshirt at 3:00 a.m. and made my way to Satin Sheets, with plans to leave Nico a message and let him know we needed to talk. I was sure someone was bound to be at the club who could relay the information.
It was stupid, but I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think. I needed to do something. Tell someone. At least this way, I could put the ball in his court. If he wanted to call, he could. If he didn't, I'd take it as a sign that I would be on my own in this.
As I walked the dark streets searching for a late-night cab, I thought about Dax and LA. Maybe I'd move there so I'd have more support. I knew my cousin would help me any way he could. I could probably find work there if necessary. My blogging career would have to go on pause for a bit. I had residual income from my YouTube channel and enough savings for a move and a few months of figuring shit out. I could totally do this.
Right? Right. Yep. I could do this.
By the time I made it to Satin Sheets, it was empty of patrons. I let out a shaky breath and doubted what I was doing. Maybe I should have found an email address? Instagram? Sent a letter? Tried coming during the day? Holy shit, this was a mistake. What the hell was I thinking, coming here in the middle of the night?
I was about to knock on the front door and face the music, when the sound of crashing glass and a pained scream drew my attention. I was trembling when I circled the building. I could feel the fear deep in my gut, my intuition pleading with me to turn around and stop this. But I couldn't stop. My feet dragged me toward the sound, toward the cries of anguish and the stark bark of an angry man—a man I knew.
Nico.
“You're pathetic,” he cursed. I pressed my body against the brick and peered over the edge, looking down the dimly lit alley with wide eyes and a racing heart. There was a bloodied man slumped over on the ground. One of his fingers was bent at an awkward angle, likely broken. He coughed up blood, and Nico reared back his leg, then kicked him in the stomach. I pressed my fingers to my mouth to stifle a gasp.
Nico looked like the devil, wearing a black suit with his burning eyes on his target. The scowl on his perfect lips—lips I knew intimately—terrified me.
“You think you can take a bit off the top, old man? You think you can steal from me—from the Moreno name? You think you can hurt us? You hurt the wrong person. You're a dead man.” Nico pulled out a gun that was holstered to his side and aimed it at the man.
I should have squeezed my eyes shut. I should have run the fuck away. But I watched. I stared as Nico pulled the trigger, lodging a bullet in the stranger's skull.
I'd expected a boom, but his death was silent and swift. My heart raced. Shock coursed through me. I didn't feel an instant sense of horror. It crept up on me as the disbelief slipped away.
Fuck. I just witnessed a murder. Holy shit. This was bad. So bad.
“Clean it up,” Nico ordered to a suited man standing by, and I worked up the courage to leave my spot against the side of the building and walk back to my apartment.
I couldn't let Nico anywhere near my child. I was right to think he was into some criminal shit. He just killed a man. I wasn't a mafia wife. I wasn't prepared to raise a child with a monster. Even though Nico saved my life, I still didn't know him well enough to trust that we would be safe in his world.
And I wasn't all too familiar with criminal politics, but the mafia didn't like to leave any witnesses. What if someone saw me watching? I couldn't go to the police. They wouldn't protect me and my unborn child from Nico's wrath. What if—
“Hey, who are you?” a gruff voice asked as I passed the front door to Satin Sheets. I looked over my shoulder and nearly tripped over my feet when a bald man with bulging veins at his temples glared at me.
“Just going home...”
I picked up the pace and he took a step closer to me. I felt stuck. If I ran, he'd know I was suspicious. If I stayed...
I walked faster and he started following me.
“Stop. Let me talk to you for a minute.”
I swallowed and started to run; thankful I'd worn tennis shoes. Nausea rolled within me, the adrenaline and shock at seeing someone murdered finally settling in. The blood. The silence. The slumped form of his body. I pressed my hand to my mouth and kept going, until a rogue taxi came into view. Flagging it down, I got into the passenger seat just before one of Nico's goons caught up to me.
I was shaking. My skin felt like ice.
“Where to, miss?” the driver asked as he drove.
Where to? Where to? I couldn't stay here. A man like Nico had connections. He'd find me. What if there was security footage outside the club? What if they saw me watching? What if?
I had to leave. I had to pack a bag and get the fuck out of town. Say goodbye to my apartment, my belongings, and everything I knew.
“Los Angeles,” I whispered to myself before giving him the address of my apartment building. I was going to pack a back in ten minutes flat and head to the airport.
I was leaving the city and raising the baby far, far away from Nico Moreno.
Chapter Seven
Two years later
“Who is your favorite uncle? Hmm? Who is it?” The brightest little giggle broke out and I rolled my eyes. Dax loved making Viviana laugh. My daughter had him wrapped around her little finger. “Are you going to be a good girl for the babysitter while Uncle Dax and Mommy go out, hmm? I know you are. I know you are! You're such a perfect little girl, right? You can do no wrong. I don't care what anyone says.”
I was putting on my earring as I turned the corner to stare at my cousin as he cooed at my baby. She was a little over eighteen months now, and she could charm anyone into doing anything. She had dark hair, light brown eyes, and thick lashes that cast shadows on the plump little cheeks. She had her father's devastatingly good looks and my gentle heart. My cousin looked silly with all his tattoos and muscles falling at the feet of a one-year-old.
“You're going to give her an ego,” I joked. Dax turned to see me and tossed me a friendly smile.
“I haven't seen her in six whole hours. I was just trying to remind her that she's perfect.”
“Oh. She knows,” I replied with a grin before walking over to my baby and picking her up out of her crib. She rested her head against my chest and mumbled something incoherent.
“I'm excited for tonight. Lydia Love is back in business, and now I get to go to all the hottest clubs in LA.”
Dax knew all about Nico and what I'd witnessed. Two years ago, I showed up on his doorstep crying and carrying everything I owned in a suitcase. He got me a job as a cocktail waitress at the bar he worked at and when I had my daughter, he was sitting outside the room with his ear pressed to the door so he could hear her first cry. I had the best family in the world, and he stepped up to care for my daughter and me.
And Dax was now the reason I was going to start working with clubs again—this time as a consultant instead of a blogger. I missed my following and the platform I'd built from the ground up, but it was worth it to be safe for my daughter. Even though Nico or his men never chased me down, I couldn't risk getting on their radar. I wasn't sure if they knew I'd seen what happened that fateful night in the alley, and I refused to risk it. Being a single mom was difficult, but her safety was the most important thing to me.
“You ready?” I asked Dax. Our babysitter had just arrived.
“Ready,” he replied.
I hugged my sweet baby and reluctantly set her back down. I felt off about leaving tonight but chalked it up to nerves about starting my consulting business. I could do this.
“I'm so proud of you,” Dax said as we stepped outside my apartment building. “You're getting back to it, raising the cutest baby I've ever seen, and just thriving.”
I stopped walking toward my car to wrap Dax up in a hug. I was so t
hankful for my cousin.
“I couldn't have done any of this without you,” I replied.
Dax grinned and squeezed me tighter. “I'm really glad you came to LA. I couldn't imagine not being a part of Viviana's life and watching you become a mom. You're my best friend. I'm just...happy.”
I pulled away and smiled, feeling emboldened about starting this new journey, a little of the old mixed in with my new life.
But a bullet piercing through the air stopped me in my tracks. Blood splattered out of a gaping wound in Dax's chest, littering my face with droplets. His face flashed with shock, then morphed into blank emptiness. “No!” I screamed as I wrapped my arms around his body and helped him to the ground. I looked in the direction of where the bullet came from but only saw scattering pedestrians running for their lives.
I wiped Dax's cheek. “Someone call an ambulance!” I screamed. He smiled a little, his eyes glossy as he looked at me. I sobbed and pressed my palm to the wound in his chest to try and stop the bleeding, but I didn't know what I was actually doing. “No. No. Dax. Stay with me.”
His lips worked to say something, mouthing the word love.
“I love you. Please stay with me,” I cried out. “I love you, Dax. You're my best friend. You have to stay to watch Viviana grow up.”
My cousin died in my arms, and a part of me died along with him.
Chapter Eight
The police called it a random act of violence. They said he was a victim of a faceless crime. They had no leads. No information about his shooter.
I became a hollow shell of the girl I once was. Always looking over my shoulder, having groceries delivered to my apartment because I was terrified to go outside of my apartment building. Every time I looked at the parking lot I wanted to vomit. What if Nico sent someone to kill me? I wasn't sure if we should leave or stay.
The loss of my cousin hit me hard. I could barely eat, and every time I closed my eyes to sleep, I saw his face. I saw his limp body on the concrete. I felt his life leave every single night. It was torturous. I tried to be strong for my daughter. I knew she could sense that something was wrong. And my heart broke every time she cried out for Dax. She didn't understand why he was gone, and I couldn't explain to a baby that he was never coming back.
It wasn't until a month after Dax's funeral that the weird things started happening. A rose on my doorstep was the first sign that something was wrong.
A few days later, a cracked, framed photo of me.
A week after that, a baby onesie ripped to shreds.
I called the police, but they didn't take it seriously. They claimed that someone was just trying to prank me, and since nothing had happened, I couldn't really do anything about it. I was convinced that this was related to Dax's murder, but no one wanted to believe me. I felt like I was losing my mind.
“Mama,” Viviana said while nuzzling my neck. She was refusing to sleep, and I couldn't seem to turn my brain off either. I was terrified, unsure what to do and feeling more alone than I'd ever felt. The police weren't any help, and the items kept showing up.
A cut-up pacifier.
Rose petals.
A broken cocktail glass.
Hair that looked suspiciously like mine.
“Mama!” Viviana said again. I bounced her while walking over to the window. Looking outside in the dark night, I saw a figure standing there and looking straight up at me.
My heart dropped.
I stopped breathing.
I knew who it was.
He'd finally come for me. He killed my cousin. He was leaving things on my doorstep.
I closed the blinds and started to shake.
There was only one way to get out of this. One way to survive. Once again, I had to do everything in my power to save my daughter.
I packed all of my daughter's belongings into a massive suitcase and grabbed a couple of outfits, my toiletries, and any necessary items for me.
I had to run. Again.
But this time, I was running back.
I clenched my fist while walking up to the bouncer. I'd driven for the last four days, stopping only to stay at secluded motels and to feed and change Viviana. She was exhausted and fussy, screaming her head off as I marched up to the doors to Satin Sheets.
It seemed like ages ago that I was here, and standing on the doorstep with my daughter in my arms felt like a mistake, but I didn't know what else to do.
My stalker was alive, and he was after me. He killed my cousin and I worried what he was going to do to my daughter. The police weren't much help, and I was afraid to tell them about my stalker, and how my crime boss baby daddy handled the situation. Or at least I thought he handled it.
I'd been living my life fearing Nico, but maybe it was Bradley I should have been worried about all this time.
“Lady, you can't bring a screaming baby in here. You don't meet dress code, and I doubt you're on the list,” the bouncer said while looking me up and down. Tears glistened in my eyes and I tried to be strong for my baby, who was now crying harder. I needed to find a hotel for the night.
“I need to see Nico Mariano,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
The bouncer, with his beefy exterior and piercing blue eyes laughed, like I'd told him a joke. “You and everyone else. Next!”
I didn't move. “Please. My name is Lydia Love, and this is his daughter. I'm in danger.” It took a good chunk out of my pride and self-preservation to say that, but I kept my spine straight.
“Mr. Mariano doesn't have any kids.”
“Not any he knows about. Please just tell him Lydia Love is here,” I begged.
The bouncer must have seen something in my expression because his demeanor softened a fraction. “Lydia Love?” he asked as I dug through my diaper bag for a juice box for Viviana.
“Yes. Please. If he doesn't want to see me, I'll leave. I promise. I know your boss is very busy. I just really need to speak to him. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't an emergency.”
He clenched his jaw. “You do look like you haven't slept in a week and bringing a baby here is pretty drastic. Hold on just a minute,” he said before pressing an index finger to his earpiece and talking to whoever was on the other side of his radio. I slumped my shoulders in relief and Viviana started sucking down the juice box like it was God's gift to man. I knew I'd regret the sugar later with her sleep schedule, but she was already completely off from our last-minute road trip.
The bouncer's brows lifted in shock. “Come inside, Miss Love. Mr. Mariano will speak with you immediately.”
My chest tightened with anxiety, but it was too late to back out now. There was only one person who could save me, and it was Nico.
Chapter Nine
Nico Mariano sat at his desk, hands folded in front of him, eyes trained on me. He hadn't said a word since I was guided to his upstairs office. The time apart had changed him, hardened him. He looked deadlier than before, but he was still impossible to resist. His strong jaw, soft hair, and rough beard enticed me in ways that were inappropriate for the situation.
Viviana was sitting in my lap, hyper as hell and chewing on a toy. Slobber dripped down her chin as she happily played, unaware that we were in the lion's den. Despite the crazy few weeks we'd had, she seemed perfectly at ease. I knew in my gut that babies had a sixth sense about these things. If she wasn't screaming her head off, maybe there was hope.
“She's mine?” he asked after a long, pregnant pause. I let out a sigh and nodded. Nico snarled. I could tell he had more questions to ask, but this felt like an interrogation, one where he'd be silent until I spilled all my secrets. It was an exercise in control not to cower away from him.
“I found out I was pregnant seven weeks after our night together,” I boldly explained. If I was going to ask for his help, I had to be honest. “I was a mess. I was scared and I knew I needed to tell you. I must have been crazy out of my mind because I marched here at 3:00 a.m., prepared to tell you. It's not like I had your number. Yo
u made it clear we were nothing more than a one-night stand when you disappeared the next morning.”
I was surprised at the bitterness in my tone. What the fuck did it even matter now?
I shook my head, marching on with my story and forcing the resentment out of my tone. “I witnessed something,” I said, my voice cracking at the admission. “I didn't mean to see it. But I saw you shoot a man in the back alley. I got scared and I ran.”
Nico's face turned red, anger burning through his expression. “You claim to have seen me murder someone?” he said, carefully using his words. It was as if he expected me to be wearing a wire.
“One of your guys saw me hanging around and I ran. I was worried you'd kill me for what I saw. I realized I couldn't stay here. I didn't want to raise the baby alone, and I was worried you'd come after me.”
“Which of my men saw you?” Nico asked, his voice cold.
“I don't know. He was bald. One of the two men standing out there with you,” I explained, not sure why this mattered.
Nico causally picked up his phone, typed something, then set it down. I got a sinking feeling in my gut that whoever let me go was in big trouble.
“Are you here to blackmail me, Miss Love?” Nico asked, shocking me. “Are you here to ask for child support of some kind? Threaten to tell the feds what you saw in exchange for money? There is no guarantee that child is mine, and quite frankly, I don't appreciate being blackmailed.”
My heart sank. I couldn't even blame Nico for assuming this. How could I possibly convince him that I didn't want or need any of that? Before my stalker resurfaced, we were doing fine. I had a life in LA. I had...Dax.
Tears started to form in my eyes and I furiously swiped at them. Viviana, noticing my distress, dropped her toy and grabbed my cheeks, saying “Mama,” over and over again.
“I'm not here to blackmail you. I don't want or need your money,” I whispered. “I need your protection.”