TABLE OF CONTENTS

WOUNDED REDEMPTION: A DARK MAFIA ROMANCE

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
OTHER BOOKS BY BROOK WILDER
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, events, and incidents
are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to
be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations, or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

WOUNDED REDEMPTION copyright @ 2021 by Brook Wilder and

Scholae Palatina Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or
reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in
the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

Join my mailing list and receive your copy of Widow Maker, prequel of the
Rough Jesters MC series: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/vu0t02km9b

BOOKS IN THE D’AGOSTINO MAFIA TRILOGY:

BROKEN INNOCENCE

CHAINED POSSESSION

WOUNDED REDEMPTION
WOUNDED REDEMPTION: A DARK MAFIA
ROMANCE
BOOK THREE OF THE D’AGOSTINO MAFIA TRILOGY

SHE IS MY LAST CHANCE AT REDEMPTION

I thought I knew how to control everything in my world.
Until Rory Evans sent it all crashing down.

She knows the truth of who I am.

She knows the full extent of my sins.

She’s my last chance at redemption.

My final hope at happiness.

There isn’t a thing in the world I won’t sacrifice to save that.

Not a thing in the world I won’t do as atonement.

But will it be enough.

Or is it already too late?
 Chapter 1
Rory

The car pulled through a pair of iron gates, and I took my third deep breath
since we got into the car. None of them had worked, of course, as I don’t
even think a bottle of liquor would have settled my nerves at this point.

I was about to meet Carmine for the second time in my life, and I didn’t
know how I felt about it.

“It’s going to be okay, Rory,” Nico replied, giving my hand a squeeze. “My
father wouldn’t dare attack us now.”

While my husband thought that, I didn’t. I didn’t trust Carmine D’Agostino

as far as I could probably throw him. I didn’t want him to be around my son.
I didn’t want him to infuse himself into our lives, but Nico was adamant that
if we didn’t accept his invitation, he would come after us.

By now, I was certain Carmine knew that we had Angelica and Lorenzo in
our grasp, our bargaining chip with Nico’s father now that we knew that
Lorenzo was not Nico’s son. I had tried not to feel relief at the DNA results.
Nico would have been an amazing father to the little boy, and I was more
than willing to be his mom while his own mother healed.

While we didn’t talk about it much, I knew that Nico was struggling to figure
out what to do now. For the longest time, he had been told the boy was his
son, and now that it had come out that Lorenzo actually belonged to Elias, it
threw this horrible wrench into everything.

Now we were about to go into the lion’s den, right into the fire I had tried so
desperately to stay away from. I had begged Nico to let me leave Anthony
back in the city, but he hadn’t bowed to my request. Anthony had to be there.

I could feel the concern in Nico’s touch as well, likely worried about what we
were going to find once we arrived. He had been far too quiet since we had
crossed into Long Island, and more than once I had seen him staring out of
the window, his jaw clenched. A part of me wanted to ask him about his life
here, but the majority of me decided to stay quiet.

This wasn’t a pleasure trip. This was a war that was brewing at the hands of
Nico and his father, and I was caught up in it.

The trees parted, and a large, sprawling mansion appeared, the whitewashed
walls gleaming in the midday sun. There were a ton of cars in the drive as
well, causing our driver to stop halfway up the drive. “What the hell?” Nico
replied as we took in the sight.

I echoed his sentiment, my stomach roiling at the thought of what we could

find behind those doors. Was Carmine about to make a spectacle out of his
son? Who was he holding court for?

Nico pulled open the door and I grabbed Anthony, who had been sleeping
between us, out of his seat before doing the same. I hadn’t dressed up for
Carmine, wearing a pair of simple black pants and a flowing top for comfort.
Nico had chosen all black, truly looking like a man in a position of power,
even though it seemed that his reign as don was now over since Carmine was
out of the hospital.

He didn’t touch my hand as he rounded the car and came to stand next to me.
I knew it wasn’t personal. Neither of us knew what we would be up against
once we crossed the threshold, and now that we were here, Carmine could
use anything and everything against us.

I hated the man. Nico was nothing like his father. The Nico I loved and even
adored was good with his son and had gone and rescued the other boy even
though the odds were stacked against him.

Even though he knew he would face his father’s wrath in doing so.

I just hoped I didn’t lose him with this visit. We were about to be on steady
ground in our relationship, and I didn’t want his father tearing us apart.

“Stay close to me,” Nico murmured as Vincent joined us. “And listen to me.
Everything I say and do in there is to get us the fuck out of here in one
piece.”

“He’s not going to tear us apart,” I said softly. “I won’t let him.”

Nico glanced at me, and for a brief moment, I saw tenderness reflected in his
eyes before he turned away, straightening his coat. “Come,” he said, his voice
hard.

I wished I had his strength. My knees were knocking together, and I had a
death grip on Anthony, wanting to run the other way so I wouldn’t have to
face this evil man again. Carmine didn’t scare me; he terrified me, and it was
on behalf of my husband, not me. I was worried about what he was going to
do to Nico, what he might push my husband into doing that would send us all
into upheaval.

We walked under the archway and through the front door, where a man
greeted Nico with a nod. “Master D’Agostino,” he stated, his words thickly
accented with a Scottish lilt. “Your father is waiting for you in the ballroom.”

Ballroom? This house had a ballroom?

“Have Tilda wait here,” Nico instructed me.

I turned to the woman who had come to take care of Anthony, seeing her
frightened expression. “It will be all right. We will be right back.”

“I will look after her,” the man offered, giving Tilda a hesitant smile.

She nodded and I hefted Anthony onto my shoulder, grateful that he was
sleeping at the moment. I didn’t care if he ever laid his eyes on the man who
had tried to destroy his father. As far as I was concerned, Carmine was not
Anthony’s grandfather. He hadn’t done anything to hold that title and never
would. Carmine couldn’t be rehabbed, not after what he had done to Nico.
There was a special place in hell for the Mafia don, and I couldn’t wait to see
him depart for it.
Nico started forward, and I followed him down the long hall flanked by
windows that spilled out to other paths, all covered, to the other sections of
the house. The mansion was unlike any I had ever seen before; more like a
villa than an enclosed home. In another setting, I would have marveled at its
layout, but instead I stayed right behind Nico, our footsteps echoing in the
surprisingly quiet space.

He turned a few corners before we came upon gilt inlaid doors bearing what I
had come to understand as their family crest. “Deep breath, Rory,” he
murmured, his eyes on the door. “I will get us out of this.”

I didn’t have time to respond before he pulled open the door and we moved
inside. It was indeed a ballroom, the walls covered in a series of murals that
depicted some sort of battle scene, far different than what I would have
expected to see. Carmine D’Agostino sat at the end of the room in a large
chair, like he was a king presiding over his court. From my vantage point, he
still looked sickly, though the smug grin on his face erased any thought that
he was truly still ill. Gone were the silk pajamas and robe that he had been in
the first time we had met, and in their place was a three-piece suit in an
unusual burgundy color, reminding me of blood.

The room was filled with men, all quieting as Nico stepped forward. From
behind, I could see his shoulders vibrating with tension, tension that met the
mood of the room.

“The prodigal son comes home!” Carmine boomed, his voice ringing out in
the deathly still room. “And you brought your family. Come closer, Nicolas.
Let me get a glimpse of my grandson.”

I forced my feet to move and follow Nico down the parted path to Carmine,
lifting my chin as I noted all the stares. I wasn’t going to give Carmine the
benefit of seeing me scared of him. He thought he could destroy us, scare us
into submission.

Well, he had another think coming.

“I’m glad to see that you accepted my invitation,” Carmine stated as we

arrived at his chair. “As you can see, I’m holding a series of meetings with
my capos, celebrating my return to my seat, of course. Many thought I
wouldn’t make it, but surely now they can see that I might be invincible.”

There was a chuckle, then a clearing of throats before the room fell silent
once more, and Carmine’s eyes fell on Anthony. “Let me hold my grandson.”

I clutched Anthony tighter, and Carmine lifted a brow. “Give him the baby,”
Nico said in a deadly calm voice. “Let my father see his grandson.”

I really, really didn’t want to. Just the thought of Carmine’s hands, hands that
had seen bloodshed and violence, touching our son, made me sick to my
stomach.

But Nico was stating I needed to, and since he was well aware of how his
father conducted business, then I had little choice but to hand Anthony over.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I did just that, controlling my shiver as

Carmine’s hand brushed mine. “My my,” he tutted as he gazed down at
Anthony’s sleeping face. “You look just like your father when he was your
age.”

I balled my hands into fists so as not to reach out and snatch Anthony away
from Carmine as he leaned down and pressed his lips to my baby’s forehead,
grinning as he did so. He knew what he was doing, and it made me sick. “So
perfect,” he stated, looking at Nico. “Your heir, correct?”

I knew he was baiting his own son, and how Nico could just stand there and
not react was beyond me. I wanted to do so on his behalf.

But it also told us that Carmine knew what we had found out, that Nico
hadn’t fathered Lorenzo, and all the guilt that Nico had carried around for
years had been for nothing.

“I don’t know, Father,” Nico finally said, crossing his arms over his chest. “If
you deem him to be.”
Carmine chuckled and handed Anthony back to me. I had never been more
relieved to get my son back in my arms. “Well then, I guess that would mean
you have to remain alive for me to make that decision?”

“Are you threatening my life while I am here?” Nico asked casually, as if he

was asking his father what we were having for dinner.

“Of course not!” Carmine exclaimed loudly, the room still quiet around us.
“This is your home, is it not? I have asked for you to come so that I can
celebrate the birth of my grandson, nothing more.”

I couldn’t believe him. He was up to something.

“Now,” Carmine continued, despite my inner thoughts. “Greet your don

appropriately.”

I watched as he raised his hand, much like a woman would have done in
another century to her suitor, and a gold ring glinted in the sun, the blood-red
ruby far too large for a man to wear.

Nico took his father’s hand and pressed his lips to the stone, no emotion
betraying how he felt inside for what his father was making him do.

When he straightened, Carmine looked at me expectantly. “You too, my dear.

After all, you have married into this family.”

“Give me Anthony,” Nico replied, holding out his arms. There was a look in
his eye that urged me to play along, to not put up a fuss now.

I just hoped that my husband had some sort of plan for this all. I handed our
sleeping son over to his father, my heart softening as Nico laid a hand on
Anthony’s small back as if to protect him, and stepped forward, gripping
Carmine’s hand lightly. It was cold, and there was a faint tremor to it, as if
the effort was too much for him.

But it was the glittering of his cold eyes that had me bending over it, pressing
my lips to his ring just as Nico had.
As I tried to move away, he flipped his hand and grabbed my chin, his fingers
biting into my skin painfully. “You are a pretty thing,” he stated, his eyes
boring into mine. “I can see why my son is infatuated with you.”

I didn’t breathe as he continued to look at me, a hint of a grin on his face.

“Brave too. All the qualities that I would expect Nicolas to choose in a
woman. He would have been bored otherwise.” He chuckled. “Though I have
heard you have gathered quite the list of men who are infatuated with you,
Rory. There’s a certain district attorney that is quite taken with you too,
right?”

I froze, surprised that he would bring that up. Why was I surprised, really?
Carmine had a way of finding out anything he wanted to. After all, he had
gotten me to the hospital when he wanted, without Nico even suspecting
anything.

He finally let go of my chin and I backed away, not daring to look at Nico. I
hadn’t told him about the pass Preston had made at me when I thought he was
helping me, and how Carmine had found out that Preston had done so was
beyond me.

“Well,” Carmine was saying, clapping his hands. “Enjoy the rest of the
afternoon and evening, family. I have business to conduct, as you can see. I
expect to see you both in the morning for breakfast, just the three of us.”

I swallowed and glanced over at Nico, but he was watching his father, his jaw
not even clenched, as if he knew any emotion would be taken advantage of
by the don. Carmine hadn’t brought us all this way to just have breakfast with
him or to see Anthony. He had already thrown out the first stone to break our
façade, and I knew that Nico was going to want to know more than what I
had told him about Preston.

How could Carmine hate his son so much? He would do anything to destroy
his happiness, which wasn’t what a parent was supposed to do at all.

We had to survive. We had to get out of this unscathed, or I was afraid that
our relationship might not survive what was to come. Nico still had Angelica
and Lorenzo. Carmine had lost his upper hand on Nico regarding his “son.”

It was only a matter of time before the hammer fell, and I was afraid it might
fall on us both, destroying this little bit of happiness we had found in each
other.
 Chapter 2
Elias

I waited by the door, crossing my arms over my chest as I did so. The entire
fucking thing was a spectacle, calling all the capos to the mansion and having
them swear their allegiance back to the real don of the D’Agostino family.
When Carmine had stated that he was inviting his son along for fun, I had
nearly shit myself. The old fucker had balls, bigger ones than I had, that was
for sure.

And the son had come, bringing his family in tow. I had to give it to Nico; he
was never one to show his emotions, something he had learned from his old
man, I guess, but his wife looked scared to death.

She should be. One word and Carmine would have her killed, likely by me,
and take her son away from her.

Carmine was a powerful man. I had never met someone whose name could
make a grown man pale, and the day that he had pulled me into the fray, I
never thought I would be where I was today. My job with the NYPD didn’t
pay shit, nor did it afford me certain liberties that I had when Carmine called
upon me. With the don, there were no boundaries, no rules to keep me reined
in.

It afforded me a freedom that I knew my badge would never bring, and

because of those freedoms, I had a padded bank account and a fishing cabin
in upstate New York that was just waiting for me to walk away.

I couldn’t just yet. My work with the don wasn’t done.

The door opened, and the man of the hour strolled through, his limp more
pronounced since he was away from his adoring company. I knew that he
struggled to keep the tremor of his hand at bay and that his stride wasn’t as
formidable as it once had been, but he hid it well. The stroke had left lasting
effects on his body that he didn’t want his capos to know about. The moment
they did, there would be dissension among the group on whether or not he
could still run the family. While Nico hadn’t infiltrated all the capos that were
loyal to Carmine, he had made a damn good run at it, and it was yet another
reason Carmine had brought them all here.

He wanted to assert his power over them once more, to give them no reason
to doubt his ability to be their leader.

Hell, even after a stroke, he was still a man that was not to be crossed, by
myself included.

“Elias,” Carmine stated as he seated himself behind the large desk in his
study. “I trust you heard the exchange?”

“How did you know about Preston?” I asked, not bothering to move from my
position.

The older man arched a brow. “Do you really fucking think something like
that happens under my nose and I won’t know about it? It seems my
daughter-in-law is an exceptionally talented journalist, able to draw a host of
men to her side. A few well-placed inquiries and it wasn’t hard to find out
who she was talking to.”

Inquiries he hadn’t asked me to do. Usually anything related to the NYPD,

Carmine asked me to take care of, and I felt the first shiver of concern cross
through my body. “I can take care of him,” I offered. The DA had been a
thorn in my ass for years, and to have his blood on my hands would be a
good day for me, even without it being an errand for Carmine.

“He will be taken care of when the time is right,” Carmine replied, a frown
on his face.

“But now is the right time,” I stated, the words tumbling from my mouth
before I could pull them back. Immediately Carmine’s expression changed,
and I swallowed hard, the apology already on my tongue.

“Never question my decisions,” he growled, anger radiating out from his

expression. “Have you already forgotten how to be a docile ass kisser,
Elias?”

“No, of course not,” I stammered, dropping my arms. “I apologize, don.” I

had seen Carmine angered before, and I didn’t want to be on the receiving
end of that anger.

He continued to stare at me, and I felt a flush of fear creep into my face.
Carmine didn’t keep people around for long, and I was by far the person he
had kept around the longest over the years. I was his loyal servant, doing his
bidding whenever he needed me to.

And I had done so faithfully until he had been struck down by the stroke and
I thought that my position was in jeopardy with Nico. If Carmine found out
that I had gone behind his back, he would have me killed.

“There’s another matter we need to discuss,” he said a moment later. “One

that you screwed up.”

I knew exactly what he was talking about. My face was still ravaged by
Nico’s attack, with scabs and bruises everywhere. Carmine had taken one
look at me and shaken his head, knowing I had been on the losing end of
whatever fight I had been in.

I hadn’t told him, but like he had told Nico, he knew every fucking thing that
happened around here. I wasn’t surprised he knew about my failures as well.
“I will get them back,” I told him, flexing my hand at my side. “He’s bound
to leave a trail.”

To my surprise, Carmine chuckled. “You fucking asshole. You let him take
the one bargaining chip that I had over him and revealed the truth in the
process. Now he knows who Lorenzo’s father is, and it’s not fucking him!”

I swallowed. I had had my suspicions for years that what Carmine was
spewing wasn’t true. I had seen the kid. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see
that he was mine. I had asked Angelica repeatedly during our visits to admit
to me that Lorenzo was my kid, but she never talked.
Never uttered a word, no matter what I did to her. “I’ll fix this,” I said. “I will
get them back.”

Carmine banged his fist on the desk once. “You’re damned right, you will fix
this! I want them back. I want to know where they are, and I want them back
under my fucking thumb. Then and only then will I figure out what to do
with my son.”

He looked at me, his eyes glittering. “And if I find out that you had anything
to do with this, Elias, I will take my slow fucking time carving you up into
pieces and spreading you around the five boroughs. You understand me? No
one crosses me and gets away with it.”

I thought about the times I had met with Nico, giving him all but the answers
he was seeking. At the time, I thought I was looking at the death of the man
before me, but now, now he was alive and seemingly back in charge.

Which didn’t fucking bode well for me. If he found out that I had met with
Nico, he would come after me, and I would be helpless to stop him. “Yes,
don,” I forced out, schooling my emotions. “I am your loyal servant. I would
never betray you.” Each word was like a lie coating my tongue, and I felt my
breakfast start to lurch in my stomach as I waited for Carmine’s confirmation
that he believed me. Carmine wasn’t a man to just pull out a gun and shoot
someone. He wanted people to suffer and suffer greatly. I would know every
move he would make and be helpless to stop him.

After all, he had trained me.

“You know what, Elias?” he finally said, settling back in his chair. “I believe
you. I believe that you are my loyal servant. Go. I will call for you when I am
ready.”

I wasted no time getting out of the study, my heart hammering in my chest as

I walked out. I had escaped his wrath this time, but what about the next?
What if Nico turned me in to his father, letting him know about our secret
meetings?
I doubted he would. Nico fucking hated his father, and well, his father hated
him. He thought his son a failure, nothing like he was, and I knew that if he
could get away with it, Carmine would have killed his son years ago.

It had been because of Lorenzo that he hadn’t, but now that Nico had his own
son, what would Carmine do? What were his plans with Anthony and the
future of the D’Agostino family?

One thing was for certain. I needed to make sure I stayed well out of
Carmine’s path while Nico was here at the mansion. The last thing I needed
was for Carmine to find out that Nico and I had discussed anything, much
less me trying to get in good with the future don. He might not know now,
but it was only going to be a matter of time before Carmine did find out. And
unless he was killed, I would be a dead man. There was nowhere I could hide
from the don.

Nowhere.
 Chapter 3
Nico

I walked into the suite behind Rory and Anthony, waves of anxiety and worry
rolling off me. I didn’t want to stay the night in my father’s home. I wanted
to gather my family up and get them the hell away from the monster, but I
couldn’t.

I couldn’t afford for my father to come after me right now. I didn’t know
what he wanted or what his plans were. I had to keep not only Rory and our
son safe but also Angelica and hers. She was depending on me to keep her
away from both Carmine and Elias, and hell, I owed it to her.

I owed it to them all.

I shut the door behind me and engaged the lock. Our bags had already been
delivered, and Rory was placing Anthony in the playpen set up near the sofa,
tension evident on her face. She had done well against my father, but he had
been able to read her like a book.

She was no match against him, and I knew deep down he was plotting to use
her and Anthony both against me to get his way.

“Well,” she finally said, turning to look at me. “I don’t understand what he’s
doing.”

“What happened with Preston?” I asked instead, remembering my father’s

words. Rory had gone pale when he had mentioned the DA, and she had told
me that nothing had happened that day.

Somehow now I didn’t believe her.

Rory smoothed her hands over her stomach. “Nico, I—”

“Just fucking tell me,” I interrupted with a growl. I wasn’t in the mood for
moving around the truth. I wanted to know how slowly I needed to kill the
DA. Had he put his hands on her? If he did, he would find himself without
his hands first.

Maybe I did have some of the bloodthirstiness of my father after all, but
when it came to my wife, nothing was off the table. She was mine.

Rory looked wounded at the sharpness of my tone, but I ignored it. “I called
him,” she started, wrapping her arms around her waist. “I wanted to get
Anthony out. You were being unreasonable, and I knew that if Carmine got
his hands on our son, he wouldn’t hesitate to break him. I couldn’t take that,
Nico. I couldn’t just stand by and watch our son, our baby boy, be sucked
into this life!”

I took a step closer. “Tell me what he did.”

She looked away. “He took me to what I thought was a safe house, saying
that he was going to get us out of the state as soon as he could. I thought he
was going to save Anthony, but all he really wanted was—”

“What?” I barked out, my rage barely under control. “What did he want?”

“Me,” she whispered. “He wanted me, Nico. I locked myself in the bedroom
and called Emilia to come get me.”

I closed my eyes briefly as I tried to picture how fucking scared she must
have been. It hadn’t been long after she had accused me of killing Harper,
and I still didn’t think she believed that I didn’t have anything to do with his
death.

Fuck me. I was going to kill the DA slowly for even thinking he could have
what was mine.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her words barely above a whisper. “I didn’t—I
don’t know how your father found out about it, and I should have told you
the entire story. I was just scared, Nico. I was so unbelievably scared.”

I could feel her fear still. While I was glad she had thought of our son first
and foremost, it still fucking hurt that she had tried to take him away from
me.

That, and another man had thought to covet what was mine by playing
fucking hero to her, gaining her trust so that she would go with him willingly.

I couldn’t wait to end Preston’s life. “Did you come back because he didn’t
give you what you wanted?” I asked, unable to help myself.

Rory shook her head. “No, of course not. Emilia offered to take me anywhere
in the world, and I told her I couldn’t go. I couldn’t just up and leave you like
that, Nico.” She took a few steps toward me, halting as she saw my
expression. “I love you. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that,
but you are what I want. You are my future, you and our children.”

“I’m not going to change,” I said, her words doing things to me. She seemed
sincere, but what would happen if my father decided to flex his power against
us? Would she run again? I was nothing without her and Anthony, but the last
thing I wanted to do was always worry that she would take off when the shit
hit the fan.

“I know that,” Rory answered with a little smile on her lips. “I’m well aware
that you will always be the stubborn, sometimes arrogant man that I’ve come
to love. It doesn’t change how I feel about you, Nico. I think I can deal with
you no matter which side you show me.”

A shudder went through me. I had never had someone believe in me the way
that Rory did. She made me want to be a better man, to walk away from this
life and live a good one with her. She made me want to be more than a man
hell-bent on revenge like I was with my own father, to drop it all and cut my
losses.

I couldn’t just do that with Carmine. He would never let me just walk away
from him, and if I didn’t see this thing through, I was putting this fragile
happiness with Rory in danger.

“Do you remember,” she continued, pushing back the sleeve of her shirt so
that I could see her bracelet dangling from her wrist, “when you gave me
this?”

It was my turn to smile. “It was our wedding day. Of course I remember it.”

“You told me to give you time,” she continued, giving me back the words
that I had written that day. Somehow they hadn’t seemed like enough, but I
had wanted Rory to know that I wasn’t about to go into this marriage lightly.
We had barely known each other, and I wanted time to love her, time to
understand the woman that I had gotten pregnant.

“I’m giving you time,” Rory finished. “But my feelings haven’t changed,
Nico. You are my husband, and I have vowed to myself, just like I am
vowing to you now, that I will be by your side, no matter what we are up
against.”

I drew in a tortured breath. Sure, she had married me, but to be by my side
could mean death for her. It could mean death for all of us, depending on
what my father had planned.

I should let her go, but hell, I couldn’t find the words to tell her to leave.

So, I closed the distance between us and framed her face with my hands. “I
promised to protect you,” I told her, searching her eyes. “I will protect you
until my last dying breath.”

“Which I hope is a long time from now,” she added as I brushed my thumb
over her cheek. “We will tackle this together, Nico. You aren’t alone, not
anymore.”

I pressed my forehead to hers and listened to her breathe. I had been alone for
so long, locked in this need to destroy my father for everything that he had
done to me. For some reason, Rory wanted to be part of this.

Her resolve humbled me. I had watched grown-ass men run from a fight like
this, one that could lead to their deaths, but she was willing to grab my hand
and walk toward the danger.
Whatever I had done to deserve her, it wasn’t enough. It would never be
enough.

My hands slid down to her hips, and I pulled her against me. “I don’t deserve
you,” I said harshly. “I never will.”

“Well,” she replied as her arms encircled my neck. “Then you can spend the
rest of your life attempting to prove otherwise.”

My grin was quick. “Maybe I won’t mind doing so.”

“Good,” Rory replied, pressing her lips to mine. She meant for it to be a
quick one, but I growled, coaxing her mouth open so that I could sweep in
and tangle my tongue with hers.

My cock rose to attention as she kissed me back with the same intensity, as if
she couldn’t get enough.

I couldn’t. I wanted to pull her into the bedroom and forget that we were in
my father’s home, fucking hating that I had even brought her and Anthony
here.

I wanted to forget who I was and what my family’s name, her name, stood
for.

I wanted it to be just us, no one else.

The sound of Anthony’s cry filled the air, and we broke apart, my chest
heaving. “Apparently he doesn’t like to share,” I said wryly as I reluctantly
let her go.

“It’s okay,” Rory replied, patting my cheek. “I will take care of you later, I
promise.”

I watched her go to tend to our son, picking him up with a smile on her face
that tore through my very fucking soul. This wasn’t about sex between us
anymore. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if it was love. What I felt for Rory was far
deeper, and I would do anything to keep her safe, alive, smiling like that.

She looked over at me and I forced a smile on my face, my thoughts now

clouded with worry on what the hell I was going to do next.

**

We didn’t leave the suite for the rest of the day. My father didn’t summon us,
and I wasn’t going to take any chances leaving Rory alone, not even for a
moment. I made some calls, checked on some of my investments, and made
plans for meetings upon our return to Manhattan while Rory took a nap with
Anthony. I would never admit it to her or anyone else, but I paused to watch
her sleep for a little while, wondering if she was dreaming about a life that I
wanted to give her, one that wasn’t filled with this anxiety hanging over our
heads.

Vincent filled me in on my father’s movements, stating he hadn’t seen any

reason for me to be concerned about our safety. “He’s been closeted in with
the capos all afternoon,” he stated with a shrug. “No one has even come
down the hall, much less anywhere near this suite.”

It was odd that he would bring us all this way and not have more than five
minutes of our company, but I also knew that my father was calculating. He
had a fucking good reason for having me wait like this, and I wasn’t sure I
would be prepared for him when he did decide to act upon it.

Tilda came in right before supper, stating that her suite was right next door,
and I saw the relief in Rory’s eyes as she realized that the nanny was safe. I
doubted my father would waste his time on someone as trivial as the nanny,
but I wasn’t going to lie; I was relieved to see her unharmed.

She took Anthony for his bath just as dinner arrived on a cart, much like we
were at some fucking hotel. The servant placed it all on the table behind the
sofa before departing, and we were alone. “I’m not sure if we should worry
about it being poisoned or not,” Rory said as I lifted the dome.
“He wouldn’t do something as trivial as kill us that way,” I replied, noting the
fine cut of steak on the platter. “He would want us to suffer.” I wasn’t trying
to blow off her concern. It was the truth. My father liked to torture.

“Well, that makes me feel tons better,” she laughed. “We only have to stay
the night, right?”

I grabbed her hand and pulled her to me, brushing her hair out of her face.
“Yes, one night.” At least I hoped it was only going to be for one night.

Rory searched my eyes, concern reflected in her own. “I don’t believe you,
Nico.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said instead, giving her a grin I didn’t feel. “Since
Anthony is preoccupied, there’s a huge-ass tub calling our name.” I wanted
her naked, under me, riding me, whatever I could do to have her forget where
we were and what we might be facing.

She smirked. “So, you want a bath too?”

“Are you offering?” I asked, my hand sliding around to cup her ass, pressing
her against the place that ached for her.

Her eyes lit with heat as she offered me a cheeky grin. “Maybe.”

I wanted to tell her right then and there that I loved her. Hell, I loved her
more than anything I had ever loved before. Rory was everything to me.

It just didn’t feel right telling her here. I didn’t want to be under my father’s
roof when she heard the words from me. I wanted to have her in our bed, my
face buried in her shoulder as I drilled into her.

“Are you all right?”

Realizing that my face probably told her all she needed to know, I gave Rory
a hard kiss on the lips. “Let’s not waste time then.”
Rory smiled and took my hand, leading me toward the in-suite bathroom
where the tub was located. I was going to take advantage of this time with her
so that if and when I met my death, I would have no regrets when it came to
Rory.

Later, after our romp in the bathroom and Anthony was returned to us, I lay
in bed with Rory, listening to her even breathing as she slept next to me,
curled in my arms. I had held many women in my arms, but none had made
me feel this content, this fucking whole.

She had no idea what she did to me. She had no idea that she had turned my
life upside down and had given me something I hadn’t even thought I needed.

Now everything I did affected her and our son.

With a sigh, I pressed my lips to her temple, whispering the words that I was
too cowardly to tell her when she was awake. I didn’t know what to expect
tomorrow, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to let my father have her. He had an
interest in my wife, and I doubted it was because of her charming personality.

Rory was mine, and Carmine D’Agostino was going to find out what it meant
when he started messing with what was fucking mine.
 Chapter 4
Rory

I was nervous.

Nico clutched my hand tightly as we walked to what Nico had referred to as

the breakfast room. I wondered what I was going to find this morning. There
had been instructions delivered to our suite shortly after seven for us to leave
Anthony with his nanny and join Carmine for breakfast.

I had thought about my outfit for far too long, finally settling on a pair of
black jeans and a tunic-style top that exposed one of my shoulders. I left my
hair down, partly for courage, and even put on some minimal makeup. Inside
I was shaking, but on the outside, I was hoping I was projecting cool, calm,
and collected.

Nico was dressed all in black, from his trousers to his silk shirt that he had
shrugged on the moment we had gotten the summons. I couldn’t believe how
he could walk through this mansion looking like nothing bothered him when
I felt like everything bothered him. It was the way he had held me close last
night, the look on his face this morning when he had answered the door.

I needed to get him far away from his father, and this was the first step.

Nico strode into the room that I assumed was the breakfast room like he
owned the place, his hand leaving mine the moment we stepped over the
threshold.

Yet another part we had to play. I was tired of playing games.

Carmine sat at a small table near a bank of windows that overlooked the
sound. It was really a perfect morning, with no clouds in the bright blue sky
and the water as slick as glass.

If the man before us hadn’t been present, it really would be a good morning.
“Nico, Rory,” he said, gesturing to the chairs on either side of him. “Sit.”
I chose the chair to his left as Nico took the one to the right. “Coffee?”
Carmine asked as he picked up a piece of bacon off his plate. “I know that
my son used to like his black, but you, Rory, I don’t peg you for a woman
who enjoys a black cup of coffee.”

I didn’t. I preferred mine to be 95 percent creamer and only a little coffee, but
I wasn’t about to tell him that. “Water for me,” I said instead.

Carmine looked at me for a long minute before nodding to the woman

standing in the corner of the room. She filled my glass before looking
expectantly at Nico, who waved her off with a scowl.

The room was silent for a few moments, the only sound Carmine eating
before he sat back, his hands on his stomach. “Well, this is cozy.”

“What do you want?” Nico shot back, his voice even. I had no idea what
strength and willpower it was taking him to just sit there next to the man who
had lied to him for years about what happened that night with Angelica, the
same man that had forced Nico to do unspeakable things, but if I knew that it
wouldn’t put Anthony in danger, I would be going for Carmine’s throat with
my, well, my fork considering there were no knives on the table.

Carmine chuckled at his son. “Always a man to get to the fucking point. I
think you picked that up from your mother.”

Nico’s jaw flinched just a little, and I drew in a slow breath. “What he means
to ask is why all the secrets? You asked us to come for a reason.”

“You see?” Carmine said instead, a hint of a grin on his face. “That’s why I
like you, Rory. You are always the journalist. I imagine that is why Preston
was infatuated with you. You are like a present that everyone wants to
unwrap.”

I sat there, deciding not to give him the benefit of a flinch at the name.

“But we do have a problem, Nico,” Carmine continued. “I didn’t anticipate

having the fucking DA sniffing around again.”

“Again?” I blurted out.

He glanced over at me, not at all surprised that I had questioned him. “You
are a brave thing,” he replied evenly, his attention now on me and not his son.
“I’m going to do something for you, Rory. I am going to allow you to ask any
question you want of me. Delve into my secrets. Isn’t that what you like to do
anyway? Figure out how to push buttons for the sake of journalism?”

I couldn’t even speak. He was going to let me question him? For how long?
What questions were off the table? My mind whirled with possibilities. I
could find out everything about him, about why he had done certain things to
his own family.

I could find out answers for Nico. “What’s the catch?” I asked instead. An
offer that lucrative had to come with something, a price for unearthing his
secrets.

Carmine leaned forward. “No catch, other than you can’t use any of the
information outside of this room.”

A big catch. Whatever he was going to tell us meant that I had to keep it in,
that I couldn’t use it against him to ruin him and end this hold he had on
Nico. It was like he was dangling the carrot before me, and no matter if I
decided to take it, he wouldn’t be hurt in the end.

Looking across the table, I caught Nico’s hard gaze. I wanted to ask him what
he thought, but he inclined his head, and I didn’t need any other
encouragement. “All right,” I finally said, settling in my chair. “I can ask any
question?”

“Any question that your heart desires, my dear.”

I thought about it for a few moments, sorting out the questions that I wouldn’t
want to use this opportunity on and the ones that I needed to know about.
There were tons of things I could ask him about, but I needed to be strategic
in the way that I went about it. He could give me a one-word answer, or he
could talk for days. But whatever I asked, I needed for it to be something
Nico would want to know about.

So, I started with the obvious. “Why Angelica Griffin?”

Carmine grinned. “You are one of a kind, Rory. Way to go for the jugular.
That’s what a D’Agostino does, after all. Angelica Griffin’s issue was who
her father was.”

I thought that was all he was going to say, but he cleared his throat. “Griffin
tried to fuck me over by taking my hard-earned money and losing a shitload
of it. I trusted in his ability to make me rich, but all he did was lose my
money. He kept telling me that he would make it back, that he was going to
turn it all around, but that wasn’t the case, and he had to pay for what he had
done.”

“So, you killed them,” I finished for him.

“I fucking murdered them,” Carmine corrected, smirking. “I had to send a

message to anyone else that was thinking about fucking me over. I don’t care
how much money you have. It doesn’t protect you, and that was exactly what
I needed for them to know.” He chuckled. “And it made them go for more
protection, which in turn paid dividends with my security company and me.
Staffing it with my own men was the best fucking thing I ever did.”

He paused to take a drink from his coffee, and I knew that was going to be all
that I would get out of that conversation.

So, I asked a question for me. “Why did you kill Harper?”

I seemed to surprise the Mafia don. “So, you know I did it?”

“Harper had a lot of enemies,” I answered, forcing back the emotion in my

throat. “But none had killed him up until now. I believe he came across
something that made you nervous.”
“I’m never nervous,” my father-in-law replied. “And everything Harper
found out was because of me. I’m the one who put out the bread-crumb trail.
He was good, but not that good.”

“Why?” I blurted out. Now it all made sense. There was no way what Harper
had found would have been so readily available unless Carmine wanted it to
be. Now I felt like ten times the fool for even believing that I had been one up
on anyone.

Carmine looked at me smugly. “Because, my dear Rory. What better way to

promote my security company than to have Harper expose Griffin’s death? It
only lines my pockets with the promise of another few million.”

I stared at him, willing my mouth to remain closed and not fall open. So, this
was all about money? The Griffins, Harper; they had all been players in
Carmine’s deadly game to make him rich. Once he had used them, he had cut
ties. “Was Preston part of it too?” The DA had fed me a lot of information
related to Carmine and his business dealings, even being one of the reasons
that I was able to print that article. Was he on Carmine’s payroll like Elias
was?

Carmine’s expression grew dark. “No, he’s not,” he bit out. “He’s just after
the big fish so that he can move up in his career. He fancies himself some sort
of crusader, looking to wipe out my family’s fucking name that has been
around longer than he’s been born. If I had my way, he would be dead.”

I wanted to ask why he wasn’t already. Carmine wasn’t a man to wait around
for others to make the decisions for him, so why was he keeping Preston alive
and around?

Not that I cared so much about Preston at all. He was an asshole, one that I
hoped I wouldn’t come across again, or I might kill my first person as a
D’Agostino.

“How do you know I won’t tell anyone else about this?” I found myself
asking. “I’m a journalist. It’s what I do.”
“Because,” Carmine said with a shrug. “If you cross me, if you dare breathe a
word of what you have learned this morning, I will tie you to that table that
Angelica found her future on.”

“You touch one fucking hair on her head,” Nico growled, the first words he
had uttered since we had sat down. “And I will kill you.”

Carmine looked at his son, and if he hadn’t been a Mafia don, I would have
expected him to roll his eyes. It was clear that he wasn’t worried about his
son or anyone else for that matter. “It will be my children in her belly,” he
taunted Nico, causing my stomach to roil at the very thought. “But I won’t let
her live long enough to birth them. I will fucking cut them out of her while
she screams your name.”

It took all I had not to attack him, to scream in rage at his veiled threat.
Nico’s jaw ticked, and the look he gave his father was murderous, taking out
any ounce of softness I had ever seen in him. If I didn’t know him any better,
I would be afraid of the man that was seated across me. “Petty threats,” he
finally said, leaning back in the chair. I knew it was taking all that he had to
keep his composure now, and it couldn’t be soon enough that we left this
room. “That’s what you are good at, isn’t it, Father?”

Carmine’s lips pulled into a grin. “Is that all it is, son? Are you sure? You’ve
seen my handiwork, after all. I can do things to your wife so that you
wouldn’t even be able to recognize her afterward.”

I swallowed hard, knowing that Carmine was likely serious. We were

treading on dangerous ground here, and now he had given us information that
he knew he could use against us if I breathed a word about any of it.

I should have walked away, not fallen into his trap.

Carmine waved a hand at us before picking up his coffee. “I digress in the

real reason for this little conversation this morning. I want us to pose as a
united front against Preston. The only way to stomp out the ants is to bring
both feet together to do so.”
“I’m not joining with you on anything,” Nico immediately responded, his jaw
tight. “I will handle the DA.”

“Oh, Nicolas,” Carmine sighed. “If only you could see the bigger picture.
You don’t want to go up against me. I know you have your differences of
opinion, but if you go against me, I will crush you and this little bit of
happiness you think you have found.”

Nico glanced over at me and I could see the torture in his eyes, knowing that
Anthony and I were now a liability in his fight against his father. If he didn’t
have us, I would imagine he would leap across the table and stab his own
father in his cold, dead heart, but he couldn’t, not without us being impacted.
Nico cared about Anthony and me; he genuinely wanted a family, a future
with us, and my heart ached for him. “All right,” I found myself saying. “We
will help.”

Nico’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything. “Good,” Carmine

announced. “There is a smart D’Agostino after all! Do this, and I might
overlook some of the other transgressions against me.”

I didn’t believe the Mafia don. It didn’t matter if we were going to assist in
this. He was going to come after Nico, but at least this might buy us some
time to figure out how to take him down first. I wasn’t going to let up on my
need to expose Carmine, even at the cost of my life, if it meant freeing Nico
from his father’s clutches.

He and Anthony were my sole reason for living. “I want your word,” I said
after a moment, my voice surprisingly strong.

The Mafia don arched his brow, seemingly surprised by my request. “My
word?”

I nodded. I had seen enough Mafia movies in my lifetime to know that a

don’s word was iron clad, but he had to say it first.

Call me stupid, but I had to try everything I could to keep my family safe.
There was something akin to respect in the old man’s eyes as he gave me a
single nod. “Very well. You have my word, Rory. I will not touch your
family. We can call this a temporary truce if you would like.”

Truce or not, I didn’t trust Carmine, nor would I ever trust him. I never
wanted him around my family again.

“Leave,” Carmine said suddenly, his demeanor changing. “We are done
here.”

I pushed back my chair and waited for Nico to do the same. This wasn’t over,
not by a long shot.
 Chapter 5
Nico

I watched as the scenery passed and the city came into view in the distance.
Never had I thought I would be glad to see the city like this, knowing I had
left my father back in Long Island for now.

Still, his threat against Rory hung over me like a suffocating blanket. I
shouldn’t have expected anything different. After all, he had taken an
innocent young woman and ruined her life by what he did. Why would my
wife, his daughter-in-law, be any different? After the words had come out of
his mouth, it was the image that was now imprinted in my brain, her phantom
screams echoing in my thoughts.

My father wouldn’t hesitate to make it a reality, and it sickened me to think

he would do something like that to Rory.

I should have killed him when I had the chance back at the hospital, when he
was nothing but an old man lying in that bed.

Now he had threatened my wife, the one person I couldn’t live without.
“Why did you do it?” I asked softly, my hand clenching my knee. It was the
first words she and I had spoken to each other since we had left my father.
“Why did you take his agreement?”

“Because,” Rory said. “The last thing we need is for him to wage an all-out
war on us, Nico. If he thinks we are on his side, temporary or not, it buys us
some time to find out how to defeat him.”

She wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t fight my father and keep Angelica still safe,
along with the DA potentially looking for a way to lock me up for the rest of
my fucking life.

I just wished Rory hadn’t been there this morning. I wished that my father
hadn’t looked upon her like she was some person to conquer, to have under
his thumb like Leda and I were.
I wanted to keep her far away from him.

“Did I do something wrong?” Rory asked quietly.

“No,” I sighed. “It was the right thing to do.” She had made me proud today,
standing up to my father like that and demanding his word. His word was
shit, but it made him pause and reconsider how fucking strong my wife was.
She wasn’t a pushover, and it was one of the many reasons I had fallen in
love with her.

I just hoped she took my father’s words to heart about his secrets. “You can’t
publish anything you heard today,” I told her, keeping my gaze averted. I
didn’t want her to see the worry in my eyes. “He’s not going to stop until he
crushes us.”

“I’m not going to,” she replied, clearing her throat. “But we can’t let him win,
Nico. He’s ruined too many people’s lives, including your own.”

“But at what cost, Rory?” I asked her. “What cost will we be suffering to
defeat him?”

She didn’t answer, and the car drifted back into silence until we arrived at the
penthouse. I rode in the elevator with Rory until she was safely in the
penthouse. “Everywhere you go,” I started, stripping off my coat. “There will
be added protection from now on.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re going to let me go places?”

Had I really treated her like a prisoner? Yes, yes I had, for the sake of her
safety. “Vincent will be your protection,” I continued, thinking of the plans I
had made yesterday.

Rory handed Anthony off to Tilda, shaking her head. “No, he’s yours. I can’t
take him without knowing you are protected.”

Her worry about me was legit, but I was far more capable of caring for
myself than she was. “This is a good time for us to talk about your
protection,” I answered, rolling up my sleeves. “Have you ever held a knife, a
gun?”

Her expression grew sad. “Harper took me to a shooting range once. He said
in our profession we were targets.” Her lips curled into a smile as she
remembered the memory. “Needless to say, I was horrible at hitting the
target, and I never picked up another gun.”

I didn’t smile, my gut twisting at the thought of Rory not able to protect
herself if, for some reason, I couldn’t. There were far too many enemies I was
gathering, enemies that wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me by taking out my wife.

I couldn’t keep my vow to her, and that fucking terrified me. “Well,” I said
instead, tamping down my rising panic. “There’s a first time for everything.”

She eyed me. “Nico, are you afraid?”

“Of course not,” I lied. The last thing she needed to hear was that her own
husband, a man who had handled his own share of violence over his lifetime,
was afraid of his own father. “I can protect you, but I want to make sure you
can protect yourself, Rory. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, I guess not,” she answered a moment later. “Let me go get changed into
something more comfortable, and then I am yours.”

Oh, she was mine all right, and nothing and no one was going to take her
away from me.

**

The knife bounced off the target harmlessly, and I tried not to let my
disappointment show as Rory looked back at me hopefully. “That was
closer,” she answered, clasping her hands before her. We were at one of the
warehouses I owned. Vincent was close by, his arms crossed over his chest as
he watched my wife take her chance with knives. God, I had never felt so
fucking scared in all my life the first time she threw one.
I thought she was going to injure herself.

“Can I take a shot at it, boss?” Vincent finally asked as I raked my hand
through my hair. “I think I know what the problem is.”

I nodded, and Vincent walked over to Rory, demonstrating whatever issue

she was having with her footing. I took the moment to take in her tight yoga
pants and loose shirt, one that looked suspiciously like mine. Her hair was
pulled back from her face, and she had no makeup on, but I had never seen
anything more beautiful. Rory radiated beauty no matter the time of day.

She had been reluctant to leave Anthony at the penthouse, but I showed her
how many guards I had around the place, as well as the tracker that was on
him in case someone did try to take him. It was excessive, putting the tracker
in his pacifier clip on his shirt, but I wouldn’t put anything past my father at
this point.

I had to protect them.

Vincent stepped back and Rory threw the knife, surprisingly sticking it to the
plywood target a moment later. “I did it!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands
together. “Did you see it?”

“I did,” I joined in, walking over to her. “Good job. You took out his balls.”

She punched me lightly in the shoulder. “It’s as good a place as any, right?”

I gripped her fist in my hand, pulling her against me. “As long as they’re not
mine, I’m good. You cut off their balls, love.”

“Not mine, please,” Vincent piped up, causing Rory to burst into laughter.
Despite everything that was going on around us, I cracked a smile myself,
glad to see the worry leave her eyes. It was there far too much.

Looking over at Vincent, I nodded my head toward the entrance. “Give us a

minute.”
“Sure, boss,” he responded, shooting me a grin before he walked to the door.

The door had barely clicked shut before I was kissing Rory, swallowing her
squeak of surprise. “Nico!” she exclaimed, tearing her lips from mine. “What
are you doing?”

“Kissing my wife,” I responded, moving in for another kiss. She squealed and
wrestled out of my grasp, tearing across the vast warehouse. I let a grin slip
as I took off after her, my cock swelling at the thought of catching her.

We chased each other for a few moments before I was able to grab her arm,
pressing her against the metal wall of the building and trapping her against it.
“Gotcha.”

Her eyes roamed over my face. “I like you like this, Nico. I like us like this.”

I knew what she was talking about. She wanted us to have a normal
relationship, one where we could cut up and laugh like this without a care in
the world. “I know,” I told her, pressing my forehead to hers. “I’m fucking
trying, Rory.”

Her hands threaded through my hair, and she forced me to meet her gaze. “I
know,” she said softly. “I know you are, and I want you to know that you
aren’t your father. You are going to defeat him, and we were going to move
on with our lives like we deserve.”

“I can’t lose you,” I blurted out, not caring if she could hear the panic in my
voice. “I can’t lose you and Anthony to him.”

“You won’t,” she reiterated, her hands sliding down to frame my face. “I
know how to go for the balls now.”

A sharp burst of laughter escaped my chest, and I shook my head, letting the
warmth of what she did to me slide past the anxiousness and worry for a brief
moment. In this chaos, we were still having a conversation like we were a
normal couple, and I wanted to grab it and put us into a bubble that couldn’t
be penetrated. I had gone from the man who was hell-bent on killing his
father to one that was on the verge of potentially losing everything he loved.

“It’s going to be okay,” Rory was saying. “We are a team, Nico.”

I swallowed my retort aimed at Rory about not being a team, figuring I didn’t
need to alienate my wife right now. So instead, I kissed the hell out of her,
feeling her hands slip around my neck and pull me close. When I broke the
kiss, my hand was up her shirt, and I was cupping her breast through her bra.
“Tell me this is okay,” I said breathlessly. I needed her now more than I ever
had.

She gave me a little nod as her hand slipped down to my trousers and cupped
me through them. “I need you, Nico.”

I growled in response, my hand already slipping down the front of her yoga
pants to find her soaking wet. “Fuck, Rory.”

“Nico,” she breathed as I teased out the swollen nub, her body arching into
my hand.

My lips found her neck and she ground against my hand, bringing herself to
climax a moment later. Dazed at how fast she had come, I shoved her pants to
her knees as she fumbled with my buttons. If I didn’t bury myself in her soon,
I was going to lose it.

My cock sprang from the opening and I thrust it into her, cursing at the way
her pants were tangled up around her ankles now. “This isn’t fucking
working,” I muttered, my hands on her hips.

“You’re too impatient,” my wife said as she forced her pants off the best she
could. Once she was free, I gripped her hips and lifted her against the wall,
causing us to both groan. “Wrap your legs around me,” I growled, burying
myself to the hilt.

Rory whimpered but did as I asked, and I drove into her, careful not to have
her slide against the metal in case it cut her skin. There were a million other
places in the warehouse I could have taken her, but I couldn’t wait.

This was what I needed.

She cried out my name as I brought her to another orgasm quickly, feeling
my own build low in my stomach. It wasn’t going to be long before I filled
her with my own release, but in this moment, I concentrated on her tight
sheath clenching my cock, the way she was sobbing my name as I drilled into
her.

This was coming home. There was nothing I had ever felt like it before and
nothing that would compare to it for the rest of my days.

I couldn’t live without it. “I love you,” I told her, the words flowing out of
me. “I love you so fucking much.”

Rory stilled, and her wide eyes met mine. “Nico?” she asked hesitantly.

“You are everything to me,” I grunted, slamming into her hard, causing her
entire body to shudder. “Never leave me.”

“Never,” she breathed, her hands clenching my shoulders tightly.

I groaned and let my release go, filling her until my knees buckled and nearly
brought us both down. Rory placed her feet back onto the warehouse floor
and pressed her back against the wall as I fought to gather my breath, my
hand resting just north of her head.

Finally, I met her gaze to find her watching me. “Truly?” she whispered.
“You love me?”

“How could you not know?” I answered, my voice gentle. “Everything I do

now is for you; it’s because of you.”

Her eyes teared, and she threw her arms around me. “Oh God, you have no
idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”
I crushed her against me, my heart hammering in my chest. “You make me
happy,” I whispered to her. “You’re the sunlight in my darkness.” She always
would. There would never be another for me, and if she left me first, they
might as well kill me too. I never wanted to have a life without Rory in it
again.

“Stop it,” she begged, her tears wetting my shirt. “You should be a poet.”

“Or a Hallmark card,” I suggested, swallowing my own emotions.

Rory laughed then, pulling back to look at me. “The options are endless.”

I reached up, pushing back her hair that had gotten loose. “I didn’t say it
because of what’s going on. I should have said it a long time ago.” If I hadn’t
been so stubborn about thinking that I couldn’t actually love her, I might
have avoided some of the heartache caused between us.

Her smile was tender as she leaned in and brushed her lips over mine. “As
long as you don’t stop saying it. That’s all that matters now. I love you too,
Nico, so very much.”

I sighed, letting her words wash over me. How could she love someone like
me? She knew all my secrets now, the harsh ones that had driven me to this
point in my life and could likely cause my death or even imprisonment,
keeping us from each other forever. Rory had pushed all that aside, and for
whatever reason, she loved me.

Me, the son of a monster. “We better leave,” I finally said, releasing her
slowly. “Vincent is probably chomping at the bit to get us out of here.”

She adjusted her clothing, and I did the same before reaching for her hand,
rubbing my thumb over her wedding ring. Now, this fight had taken a whole
other turn, and I wasn’t sure if it was for the better.

The stakes were too fucking high now.

 Chapter 6
Rory

“So why are you smiling like that? I take it everything is kosher between you
two again?”

I smiled over the rim of my coffee cup, unable to help it. “I mean, it’s not
perfect, but yes, it’s amazing.”

Emilia rolled her eyes, and I laughed, the giddiness inside hard to contain.
Nico loved me. When he had said it yesterday, I had thought I had heard him
wrong. All this time I had wondered if he was ever going to say it, and now
that we were in the midst of a war between him and his father, he had chosen
to finally let me hear those three little words.

Nico had no idea what those words meant to me, but he was right. I had
known for a long time that he loved me. It was in the way that he loved me in
the privacy of our bedroom. It was in the way he was trying to keep me and
Anthony safe from his own father.

The signs were there. I was just glad he had finally admitted what I had
already known for quite some time.

Some would think I was crazy to be in love with him. Our relationship had
been rocky at best at times, and his temper had scared the crap out of me
more times than I cared to admit. Some would say that it was because of him
that I didn’t have Harper in my life any longer, that I was flirting with death
myself.

But I also looked at it on the other side of the coin. Because of Nico, I had
Anthony, my precious son, who was going to grow up one day just as strong
as his father was. I had my friends, my sister-in-law, and this life that I had
never imagined before.

It didn’t matter that we were looking at an all-out war with his father. I would
do it all over again to feel this way about someone and have someone return
the love. I had thought I was in love with my ex, but what I felt for Nico ran
far deeper than anything I had ever experienced before.

I didn’t want to lose it.

I set my coffee cup on the island, my good mood evaporating. I had asked
Emilia to come over to the penthouse for a reason, and it was going to be the
hardest conversation she and I had ever had. “I need for you to promise me
something.”

Emilia arched a brow. “Um, sure? What am I promising?”

An ache welled up in my chest, but I pushed it aside. “If something happens

to me, I want you to take this,” I said, pushing the flash drive across the
island. “And go to the papers with it. The password is the first place we met.”
I had stayed up late, long after Nico had gone to sleep, thinking about the
information that Carmine had shared with us, and finally, after much
deliberation, put it down into words. It would be enough to cause some
rumbles with the feds, and if we didn’t survive this, I wanted the Mafia don
to still go down.

Emilia eyed the flash drive before looking at me. “What’s going on, Rory?
What are you not telling me?”

I shook my head. “I’m not getting you involved in this. I just need for you to
take it, and if I ask for it back, then you know that everything is going to be
okay.”

“All right, fine,” Emilia finally said, snatching up the drive and placing it in
her purse. “You know you can run, Rory, if it’s that bad. Nico wouldn’t
blame you.”

“I can’t,” I told her. “I love him, and he needs me. I would rather die at his
side than leave him to fend for himself.”

Emilia let out a harsh laugh. “You’re a journalist, Rory, and my best friend.
He’s a Mafia don’s son. He used to this violence, but you aren’t.” She
reached over the island and covered my hand with hers. “Please,” she begged,
tears glistening in her eyes. “Please let me help get you out of here.”

I gave her hand a grateful squeeze. “You will know one day when you fall in
love why I’m doing this. I can’t; he has no one else, Emilia. I can’t just walk
away from him. It would be like walking away from my heart.” Nico was my
heart. This broken, tortured man was mine, and I was going to fight with my
very last breath to ensure that he survived, or I would go down with him. We
were a team.

I could tell that Emilia didn’t like my answer, but she squeezed my hand
back. “If you die, I will never forgive you.”

“I’m going to do my very best,” I said honestly, “not to have you hate me in
the afterlife.”

She let out a choked laugh and scrambled off her stool to fling her arms
around me. I hugged her tightly, tears forming in my own eyes. Emilia was
my family, the only person that had been there through it all, and to not have
her be in agreement with my current life would be like a stab to the heart. “I
know you don’t trust him,” I told her as she sobbed against my shoulder.
“But I love him. He’s a good man, Em. I swear it.”

My best friend pulled away, wiping at her tears with her hand. “Yeah, well, at
least he makes gorgeous children. Besides, he has to be good in bed.”

“He is,” I said, blushing. Nico wasn’t what I had been expecting in a life
partner, but now he was everything I didn’t know I needed. “And I hope to
have many more children with him. Gorgeous children.”

Emilia reached out and squeezed my arm. “Good, because I will kill him
myself if you die.”

I gave her a faint smile, knowing that she wouldn’t have to. Nico would do it
for her.

Neither of us was going to die. We were going to find a way to rid ourselves
of his father’s hold on us and move on with our lives.

That was my hope, at least.

**

Later that afternoon, my cell rang, and I debated on answering the call,
recognizing the number. It was Preston. Had he learned about our trip to
Long Island? Had Carmine gotten his talons into the DA and was now trying
to use him against us?

There was only one way to find out. “Preston,” I said in a hard voice the
moment I accepted the call.

“Rory, thank God,” he breathed. “I’m assuming you are safe?”

“Far safer than I was with you,” I blurted out, not caring if I made an enemy
of him as well. “You made a pass at me, Preston, and got my husband locked
up. Forgive me if I’m not happy to hear your voice.”

“A mistake,” he replied. “One that I am more than ready to make up to you.

I’ve been doing some more digging, and I want to share the information I’ve
found with you.”

I sat up straighter. “Go on.”

“No, not on the phone,” he said quickly. “In person. Let me make amends,
Rory.”

I swallowed hard. On one hand, I could tell Preston to fuck off and never talk
to the DA again, but on the other, he could be part of the reason that I kept
Nico out of jail and put Carmine in one. Despite the asshole he was, he did
have some pull in the NYPD, and if it came down to defending any action
that Nico took against his father in the near future, I was going to need some
help keeping him out of prison and home with me.

“Please,” he tried again. “A brief meeting, wherever you want it to be. You
are going to want to hear what I have to say.”

“Fine,” I said before I could change my mind. “I’ll text you an address.”

“You won’t regret this,” he replied before I ended the call.

I already did.

That night, I told Nico what Preston had said to me as we lay in our bed, our
bodies cooling off after our last sex session. “I don’t fucking trust him,” he
said, his fingers gliding over my back lightly. “I can go for you.”

“Oh, that will work out,” I mused, lifting my head to look at him. There was
a grin on his face that made him look years younger, the worry chased away
for now. “Hey, I’m Nico, bang. Bullet to the face.”

He lifted his shoulder. “Could you blame me? He made a pass at my fucking
wife. I’m inclined to be violent with him.”

My stomach fluttered with his response. Hey, what can I say? There was a
part of me that liked my husband when he was prone to being violent on my
behalf. “I think I need to go. I want to know what he’s going to say.”

“That he couldn’t tell you over the phone?” Nico asked lightly. “I smell a
setup.”

I laid my hand on his strong jaw. “I won’t go if you don’t want me to.” This
was all about the trust factor between us now, and if he didn’t want me to do
it, I wouldn’t. Every step now was calculating, and I had to keep Nico in the
loop so the plans wouldn’t be ruined.

He blew out a breath. “No, it’s fine. You go and find out what the fucker
knows. It might be helpful, or it could be shit, but there’s no other way for us
to find out.” He captured my hand in his and brought it up to his lips. “But if
he makes a pass at you again, I want you to nail his balls to the chair with
your knife until I get there.”
“So violent,” I said, shivering not from fear but from the thrill of excitement
that ran through me. Maybe Nico was rubbing off on me.

He arched a brow, his hand stilling on mine. “Why did it sound like I just
made you fucking orgasm, Rory?”

I pulled my hand away, climbing on top of him instead. “Because I think I’m
liking the possessive side of you now.”

Nico’s hands dug into my hips as he lowered me onto his already hard cock.
The man never ceased to amaze me, always ready to go at a moment’s notice.
“Get used to it,” he breathed as I sucked in a breath myself. “Because you are
mine, and I’m not going to give you up.”

I never wanted him to.

The next afternoon, I stepped into the coffee shop I had agreed to meet
Preston in, a ways away from the penthouse and Nico. He had all but
demanded that I take Vincent with me, but I had compromised, stating that I
was going to be a dead ringer for anyone that was watching for his father if
Vincent walked in with me.

So, Vincent was parked across the street, and I was wired so he could hear
the entire conversation. My knife was sheathed in the leather strap that Nico
had strapped to my waist this morning, ready at a moment’s notice if this was
some sort of setup. I had no intentions of pulling it otherwise.

Preston was seated in the back of the coffee shop as I bypassed the ordering
line and took a seat in the chair across from him, not bothering to remove my
sunglasses. Between my required face mask, sunglasses, and baggy clothing,
it would be hard to make out my identity. “Rory?” he whispered as I set my
bag next to me on the table.

“Preston,” I greeted him. “This isn’t a social call. Tell me what you know.”

He eyed me, a slow smile crossing his lips. Unlike me, he had taken off his
mask, and I felt my breakfast sour in my stomach as I saw the gleam in his
eyes. Maybe I should stab him. The world would be a better place, or at least
the women would be safe. “I have to say, you are taking the mob wife thing
to another level with your getup here.”

I leaned in, wanting to rip my sunglasses off my face so that he could see
what I honestly thought of him. “I would love to show you what else I
learned from my husband, but alas, it would be far too messy for this place.”

I was rewarded with his face losing some of its color, and he sat back, his
eyes growing hard. “So, he’s gotten to you.”

I rested my forearms on the table. “Tell me what you wanted to, Preston.”

“Before I do so,” Preston responded, much to my ire. “What does he have on

you to keep you there, Rory? Is it your son? I can provide a safe haven for
both him and you.”

“I trusted you one time before,” I reminded him, involuntarily shivering

inside. “Besides, I might have some information you would be interested in,
but you will give me your word that I will be safe.” It was a gamble for me to
throw that out there, but if I wanted to keep Preston focused and to tell me
what he knew, I had to reel him in slowly.

He arched a brow. “Really?”

I nodded, hiding my smug smile. “I do. Let’s just say I’ve had a run-in with
Carmine D’Agostino himself.”

Preston surprised me by reaching across the table in a flash and grabbing my

hand, holding it tightly in his sweaty one. “Let me take care of you, Rory,” he
urged, something akin to desperation on his face. “We are both in a hell of a
lot of trouble, and your husband isn’t going to be able to protect you, but I
can. I can give you what he hasn’t been able to.”

“You don’t have anything, do you?” I asked hotly, wrenching my hand away
from his and standing. “You are no better than the men you hunt.”
Preston smirked, clearly unfazed by my reaction. “Yeah, maybe I’m not, but
at least I can walk away at any point. What about you, Rory? What, do you
think you were resigning yourself with when you married a fucking criminal?
Face it, you are going down with your husband, but I can help you stay out of
the limelight.” His eyes roved over my body, and even though I was covered
head to toe, I still felt the revulsion. “If you give me what I want in return, of
course. As you may have learned, nothing is free in this business.”

I turned and walked away before I really did something stupid, like pulling
out my knife, my angry steps carrying me outside, where I ripped off the
sunglasses and mask, not caring if Carmine was having his goons follow me.
Vincent was there with the car in an instant and I climbed in, throwing
everything in the seat next to me. “He heard it all, didn’t he?” I asked after he
pulled away from the curb.

Vincent’s eyes met mine. “Yeah, he did.”

I leaned back against the seat, cursing myself for even thinking that Preston
was actually going to bring something good to the meeting. I should never
have fallen into his trap, but there was a desperation to at least find
something, anything that could put Carmine out of our lives for good.

My thoughts drifted back to one of the first times Nico and I had a heart-to-
heart, and his words never meant more to me today than they had back then.
The cops saw him as nothing more than a criminal, and keeping him out of
prison was going to be far more difficult than I realized.
 Chapter 7
Nico

I slammed my hand on the desk before I threw the earpiece across the office,
not caring where it landed. Preston was a dead man. He hadn’t brought
anything to this investigation against my father other than my rage at making
a pass at my wife.

It was good to know that I could kill him now with a clean conscience.
Honestly, I was surprised that Rory hadn’t stabbed him. I had laughed out
loud when she had all but threatened his life, but my humor had quickly
turned sour as I listened to the conversation.

The DA was another dead end, but what he had done was far worse than I
could have anticipated. I was dragging Rory down with me the further we got
in this trap my father had set. Everything I did had an impact on her as well,
and for a man who had done everything he wanted to without worry, it was a
hard pill to swallow. She didn’t deserve to be in this life, to be threatening
assholes like Preston on my behalf. I couldn’t change who I was, but before
now, I didn’t have anyone else to worry about.

Well, it didn’t matter. I was going to do all that I could to keep Rory clean,
and if the time came that the feds came after me, then I would ask for her
clemency before I told them about my violent past. If the time came that they
locked me up in prison, then I would be forcing her to go on with her life
without me. It would fucking hurt to rip out my heart like that, but Rory
didn’t deserve to see me behind a glass-plated window every week. I didn’t
want her to bring our son so that he could visit his father in prison.

Hell, that is if I made it through the first month myself. I thought losing one’s
freedom would be like a death sentence.

Sighing, I thought about what I was doing before my wife had her meeting
with the DA. I had been calling in favors all morning, trying to garner
support in case my father decided to strike faster than anticipated. I had some
sympathizers within the family, some that were tired of my father’s reign and
wanted something different for the Mafia. His return to power had been ill-
timed, and the support I had garnered from the others was quickly waning.

Hell, I couldn’t blame them. No one wanted to go up against Carmine

D’Agostino, especially not after what they had seen he could do. I had some
men still on my side, but not nearly enough.

“Fuck,” I breathed, rubbing a hand over my face. I could feel the noose get
tighter around my neck with each passing day, constantly sitting on go in
case my father decided to strike. Vincent and I had a pact that he would get
my family, including my sister, out at the first threat from my father, and
while I knew Rory would fight me on this, I had no choice. I would go after
him, I and I alone.

A little while later, Vincent walked in. “I’m going to fucking kill him
myself,” he growled as he fell into the chair in front of my desk.

“Get in line,” I grumbled. “Where is she?”

“Back at the penthouse,” he replied with a heavy sigh. “She’s safe. I think
Emilia is coming over again.”

“Good.” I wanted her to have time with her friend, to feel like her life was
normal when it was anything but. “Was she followed?”

“Not that I can tell,” Vincent said. “I’m surprised. I thought he would have a
tail on both of you.”

Yeah, I did, too, but I wasn’t about to let up for any reason.

“Any luck?” my second-in-command asked after a moment.

“Little,” I admitted, crumpling the paper before me and throwing it in the

trash can beside the desk. “They are all fucking scared of my father, no
matter what I promise them.”

“If he comes after us like this, we are sitting ducks.”

“I know,” I said evenly. “And there’s nothing I can do about it other than you
getting my family out alive.”

Vincent’s expression darkened, and I knew he hated the thought of leaving

me to face my father virtually alone. Vincent had been there for a number of
years, and he could anticipate my moves better than I could. If I were going
to go into an unfair fight, I would want him at my side.

But he had a far more important role now, and that was protecting the future
D’Agostino and my fucking heart.

“Boss,” he started, clearing his throat. “I can’t let you do this.”

“You don’t have a choice,” I fired back. “My family is everything, Vincent,
and they will be protected at all costs.”

He hung his head, and I blew out a breath. “I can handle myself against my
father.”

“But he’s not going to fight fair!” Vincent exploded. “You know that! He
will not run the risk of losing to you.”

“I know that!” I yelled, pushing out of my chair. “But it doesn’t change the
fact that I must get Rory and Anthony out of danger. Lorenzo and Angelica
too. I can’t—I won’t let them fall victim to him.”

Some of the fight left Vincent, and he slumped in the chair. “I apologize,
don.”

“Save it,” I sighed, coming to stand before the windows that overlooked the
city. I didn’t want to fight with him. I didn’t want to fight with anyone save
my father. I wanted this shit to be over with so that we all could move on,
however that needed to look like.

We left shortly after, as my sister wanted to have dinner with me, and I met
her at our favorite restaurant, virtually empty given the ongoing pandemic.
“Nico,” she stated as I joined her in the booth. “Thank you for coming. I
know you have a lot on you.”

I picked up the wineglass that was already full to the brim. “I’m never too
busy for my little sister.”

She rolled her eyes. “How is the family?”

“They are fine.”

She fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. “I hear you visited Father.”

I settled back in the booth, my glass in my hand. “He demanded it, I’m afraid.
He said he wanted to meet his new grandson.”

Leda’s mouth twisted, and I wondered when the last time was that she had
crossed our father. “What did he really want?”

That I couldn’t tell her. I didn’t want to drag my sister into the mess that had
become my life. “I need something from you,” I told her instead. “Something
important.”

She arched a brow. “What can I do for you, brother?”

“If shit goes south,” I started, finding the words difficult to admit. “Make
sure that Vincent gets Rory and Anthony out. You too. I want all of you far
away from this place.”

Her expression softened. “Oh, Nico,” she said. “What are you about to do?”

“It’s not what I am about to do,” I stated. “It’s what Father is going to force
me to do.” I had to kill him. I had to end his life because if I didn’t, he would
continue to come after me until he was dead.

Leda sighed. “You have so much now, Nico. You have a wonderful wife and
the cutest little boy on the planet. Why not walk away?”
I clenched the wineglass in my hand. “He won’t let me.” I remembered my
father’s threats. He wanted me to suffer, and in order for that to happen, he
was going to take what was important to me. There was no way in hell I was
going to turn my back and watch him destroy my family. “He’s going to kill
them.”

Leda sucked in a breath. “All right, brother. I promise.”

That was all I could promise my family, that they would be taken care of in
case this shit got ugly.

Leda looked at me over the rim of her glass, her lips pursed. “Who will look
after you though? I doubt your wife is going to leave willingly.”

I grinned at the thought. Rory would likely put up a good fuss. “She won’t
have a choice.”

Leda shook her head. “God, you both make me sick the way that you carry on
about each other. You really love her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” I answered, figuring there was no reason to hide it. Leda’s
smile faded, and I remembered what life she had ahead of her. Yet another
reason to kill our father so that she could be free of the prison he was going to
put her in with the arranged marriage. “I’m sorry, Leda.”

“It’s fine, really,” she sniffed, gazing into her glass. “If I have to go, I have to
go, just like you have had to do a lot of things for him. I just wish we had
killed him a long time ago.”

I couldn’t disagree with that sentiment, but on the other side, my father’s
meddling had somehow brought Rory into my life, and that was one thing I
wasn’t willing to just give back. “I’m going to take care of this,” I said to my
sister, making a vow to help her in her life as well. “I’m not going to let you
down.”

She gave me a sad smile, holding out her glass. “Well, I can’t say no to that. I
love you, Nico. I don’t think I tell you often enough.”
I grinned as our glasses clinked together. “And I love you, Leda.”

Her eyes widened. “Rory is good for you. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you
admit it aloud.”

“Did I really just say it aloud then?” I asked in mock horror.

Leda rolled her eyes, hiding her smile behind her glass. “You can’t take it
back now, Nico. It’s out in the open.”

I didn’t want to take it back. If my life were to end in a few months, I wanted
to make sure I had no regrets.

**

After a long dinner with my sister, reminiscing about some of our earlier days
and not mentioning our father, I headed home. I had checked in on Rory
more than once during dinner until she had finally told me to leave her alone
and to enjoy my time with my sister.

Now, as I stepped into the penthouse, I listened for the sound of her. The
living room was dark, and I started toward our bedroom, stripping off my
coat as I did so. Now that I had promises from both Vincent and Leda, I was
starting to feel better about my ability to protect my family. At the first sign,
they would be gone, and I would join them, but only after I had ended things
with Carmine.

Not before. We couldn’t run far enough to keep him from touching my
family, and the only way was death. As long as the Mafia was in play and
under his thumb, there were numerous threats I had to contend with. It had
been one of the reasons I had wanted to destroy him in the beginning.

I found Rory and our son in the bathroom, taking a bath in the bathtub with
Anthony in a bathing seat. “Nico,” she breathed as I crouched down next to
her. “How was your dinner?”
“It was fine,” I stated, gazing at our son. “I thought he would already be in
bed.”

She laughed. “Well, that was before he decided to throw up his milk all over
his pajamas. This is his second bath of the night.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked Anthony, taking my hand and spreading it across

his small belly. He cooed as I did so, and I smiled, enjoying the sound. He
was nothing more than an innocent babe, one that had no idea about the
family name that he carried.

“He’s fine,” Rory said as she finished washing the bubbles from his little
body. “Greedy thing.”

I removed my hand, and Rory lifted him out of the tub, wrapping him in a
hooded towel. “I’ll take him,” I said, needing to remind myself what I was
fighting for.

She looked surprised but handed him over. “What’s wrong, Nico?”

I shook my head. “Just want to spend some time with my son, that’s all. Go
on, take your bath. Relax.”

A stunned Rory accepted my kiss on her temple, and I walked out with my
son in my arms, taking him to the nursery. There I laid him down on the table
and methodically wiped him off, earning a few more coos and gurgles as I
fought to put his little sleeper on. Fuck, he looked like me, with his wide eyes
following my every movement until I picked him up once more. “Time to go
to sleep, little man,” I said softly as I settled into the rocking chair near his
crib with Anthony cradled in my arms. How could my own father look at me
and not remember these times?

Likely because he hadn’t rocked us. He probably hadn’t even cuddled with
either of his children like this. I wasn’t going to be him. My son was going to
know that he was loved by his papa, that I would always have his corner, and
no matter what he did, he was my flesh and blood. I would fight for him, give
my life up for him.
I didn’t want him to grow up in the Mafia family, however. My father would
have a heart attack if he knew that I was thinking of disbanding the family the
moment that he was dead or locked away. Anthony should grow up how he
wanted to, not how his family had decided for him to do so, and I didn’t give
a shit about how many generations of D’Agostinos there had been.

I was going to be the last. “You have nothing to worry about, son,” I
whispered as he yawned. “If I don’t make it through this, know that I fought
to my very last breath for you and your mama. Know that I loved her far too
much and that she saved me by having you. Know that I am not without my
faults, but there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish I could be a bigger
man for you both.”

“Oh, Nico.”

My head shot up, and I saw Rory standing in the doorway, tears streaming
down both her cheeks. “You’re supposed to be in the bathtub.”

“And you are supposed to not talk like that,” she chided softly, walking over
to us. “And I love you so much it hurts sometimes.”

I knew the feeling. She reached out and took the sleeping baby from my
arms, pressing her lips to his forehead before she laid him down carefully in
his crib. I pushed out of the chair and stood next to her, my arm going around
her waist. “He’s so fucking perfect, Rory,” I said, a lump in my throat. “How
the hell did I make something like that?”

She turned to me, placing her arms around my waist and hugging me close.
“Let’s see. Maybe it was the pool water.”

I chuckled as I hugged her close, pressing my lips into her hair. “Then we
should spend more time in the pool. I’ll install one by the end of the week.”

Rory pulled away to look me in the eye. “You want more children, Nico?”

With her? Hell, yeah. I wanted a little girl who would break her papa’s heart
by just gazing up at me like her mama was at this moment. I wanted to see
Rory pregnant again, to watch her stomach swell with our child and know
that she was about to give me the best blessing of all. “Yeah,” I croaked. “Do
you?”

Rory gave me the sweetest smile before pressing her lips to my jaw. “I guess
we can continue to practice then.”

“Is that what we are doing?” I asked, reaching around to pinch her ass.

She just continued to smile as she grabbed my hand and led me out of the
nursery. Fuck, yeah, we could continue to practice for as long as she wanted
to.
 Chapter 8
Rory

“Are you sure you will be okay?”

I drew in a breath as I looked up at the building that was achingly familiar,

even though it had been a while since I had stepped inside, before glancing
back at the guard. “Yeah, I will be fine.”

Vincent’s brows knit together. “I can come up, you know. Nico would want
me to clear the way.”

Giving him a little smile, I reached for the door handle. “It’s okay, really. I
will be fine, I swear. I have my knife if needed.”

I heard Vincent mutter something about balls as I climbed out, taking in the
beautiful morning. It really shouldn’t be this nice, given the reason I was
here. With everything going on between Carmine and Nico, I hadn’t really
had a chance to properly mourn Harper or visit his offices.

The funny thing was, I had received a copy of his will and had brought it with
me to open in a place that felt familiar.

Here. His office.

I stepped inside and took the elevator up to the floor, glad that it was the
weekend and the majority of the people were gone. There was only a skeleton
crew coming to the building anyway, to help with the printing, but everything
else was done remotely because of the pandemic. I really didn’t want to talk
to anyone about his death, and even though it had been a week or more since
that day where my world fell apart, it still hurt.

That, and there was the matter of what to do with his body. I felt like crap
knowing I had left him in the morgue all this time. There was no doubt in my
mind that he had died because of what I had dragged him into.
And I had ignored him up until this point. Some good friend I was.

With a sigh, I used the keys that had been among his personal effects and let
myself into his office, my eyes watering at the lingering smell of the cigars he
loved to puff away on when he was burning the late-night oil. The office was
just like I remembered it, with stacks of loose papers and copies of previous
papers all over the space. His old, worn leather chair sat turned from the desk
like he had just left it. A tear slid down my cheek, but I forced myself to sit in
the chair, turning it toward the desk.

I still couldn’t believe he was gone, and my heart ached in my chest as I

thought about never seeing his grin or hearing him cuss like a sailor when he
was up against a deadline.

I missed him more than anyone in my life.

After a moment, I pulled out the envelope from my pocket and opened the
flap, extracting the thick bundle of papers. Harper owned the Midtown Post,
so there was likely legal paperwork to go through to sell it. For some reason
he had named me as his next of kin, so I assumed that I would be in charge of
selling the paper and the rest of his holdings.

The thought didn’t sit well with me.

Opening the paper, I began to read, and it wasn’t long before I realized
exactly what Harper had done. He had left everything to me. The paper, his
apartment, his hunting cabin, even his leather jacket were all outlined in the
documents. There was a tidy sum of money he had set aside for his wife,
Alice, but the rest of his personal funds outside of the money that came with
the paper, totaling more than a million dollars, were mine.

“Stupid,” I whispered as I scanned the document. I couldn’t believe Harper.

He had given it all to me to do, as it was documented, the best job I could do
in keeping it legit. It had been a running joke between us, that the paper only
stood for tabloid-type material and nothing else, and time and again, I would
come to him with a legit article that he would laugh at, stating we weren’t a
reputable paper.
God, I missed him.

When had he made this decision? Surely it wasn’t before I had married Nico.
I mean, I loved Harper. He was like a father to me, but to do this? I couldn’t
believe he had done something so, well, so big.

“I thought I might find you here.”

Looking up, I found Harper’s wife, Alice, in the doorway, a smile on her
ruby-red lips. She looked tired, with pronounced circles under her eyes and
her normal done-up-self not as polished as I was used to seeing her. “Alice,”
I said, motioning for her to come in. “I was just—”

“Reading his will?” she supplied, walking into the office. “You know I fully
expect for him to jump out at any moment and yell surprise. It’s the sort of
messed-up shit he would have done.”

I swallowed as she took the chair across from me, gazing around the office as
if she saw him in everything. I did. I saw him standing by the window that
overlooked the alleyway, arguing on the phone. I saw him hunched over his
desk, furiously making edits so he could meet a deadline for the paper.

I saw him standing out on the floor, watching as the paper slipped off the
machine so he could ensure there was nothing wrong with the front page.
“It’s all they see,” he told me once as he held up the front page. “No one
gives a shit about what’s between the pages. You gotta make sure it’s all on
the first page.”

He wasn’t wrong. Most people did tend to read the first page and browse the
rest.

“The will,” Alice stated again, a smile playing on her face. “He told me he
was leaving everything to you, Rory.”

“I can’t believe he did that,” I told her, setting the paper on the desk. I was
now the owner of a paper, my lifelong dream to own my own paper so that I
could print whatever I felt like. Harper had given me his baby, his child, his
kidney stone, as he liked to call it sometimes.

Alice tilted her head to the side. “Are you really that surprised? After all, he
loved you like his own. It only makes sense for you to step into his shoes and
keep the tradition going.” She laughed. “He used to tell me at night that he
was so proud of what you had become, even after you married your Mafia
husband. He said you would change him like you changed everyone you
touched.”

I wiped away the tears on my cheeks as they flowed out of my eyes. “I can’t.
He had far too much faith in me.”

“Oh, honey,” Alice said softly, reaching across the desk to touch my hand.
“It’s the truth. Harper was a better man because he had you in his corner. You
kept him young, and he worried about you.”

And I had gotten him killed. Guilt ate away at my soul as I thought about
how he was carrying around his own findings that day, no doubt going to
show Nico to keep my husband from killing him. “I got him killed,” I cried
out, unable to keep it in any longer. “It’s my fault.”

Alice squeezed my hand. “That’s ridiculous. He could have turned you down,
Rory, but he chose not to. Harper knew very well what he was doing, and he
did it with a fucking smile on his face.”

I met her tear-filled eyes with mine, wondering if she was telling the truth.
Harper could have told me no, and while I would have pitched a fit because
he had, I would have come to accept it and found another way to expose
Carmine and the missing Griffin family.

But Harper had run the story. “I miss him.”

“I know,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “I miss him every day. It
will get easier over time, but there’s a heck of a lot of time between his death
and when I will quit crying myself to sleep.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t contacted you,” I told her as she released my hand. “I’ve
been…something.” I didn’t really know what to say to her, honestly.

She waved a hand at me, sniffling. “It’s nothing, Rory. I just hoped you had
thought about funeral arrangements. Harper told me nothing.”

“Me either,” I admitted, thinking about all the conversations we had about
death. Harper had always assumed that the cigars would kill him off in the
end, but little did he know that it would be because he had gotten wrapped up
in my crazy life.

“I’m thinking something small,” Alice continued, slumping in her chair.

“Because of the pandemic, they won’t let you have a large service anyway,
but Harper wouldn’t want all the fuss regardless. I think his ma is buried on
Staten Island. Not the fanciest place to be buried, but likely our only option
unless we want him to go to the Island.”

I shivered, thinking of the mass burials that were happening there. More
bodies had just been delivered to the freshly dug trenches yesterday, and right
now there was a war going on about if it was legit for them to do so without
family knowing. “No, I don’t want him there.”

“Then I will look into the burial plot,” Alice decided, pushing herself out of
the chair. “I know this comes as a shock to you, Rory, but Harper had made
his peace with himself about death a long time ago. He knew his days were
numbered.”

I didn’t respond and she walked out, leaving me in the office alone. Just
because he had expected it didn’t mean I had wanted it to happen.

I looked around the office that held so many memories and quietly said
goodbye to my mentor and my friend. Harper was gone in body, but he
would never be far from my heart. I was going to avenge his death and ensure
that Harper’s work hadn’t been in vain.

When I arrived back at the penthouse, I was surprised to see Nico at the
stove. “What are you doing?” I asked as I put my bag on the island, the smell
of spicy tomato sauce in the air. Nico was dressed casually in a T-shirt and
joggers, and my heart flipped over at how relaxed he looked, given
everything that was going on.

“I’m cooking you dinner,” he replied as he tossed the pasta in the pot of
boiling water. “How did it go?”

“Alice stopped by,” I said as I reached into the fridge and pulled out a beer,
popping the tab. “He left me everything, Nico.”

Nico stopped and looked at me, his eyes full of tenderness. “Of course he did.
He cared about you.”

“I just didn’t expect him to leave the paper to me,” I continued, clutching the
can in my hand. “What am I going to do with a paper?”

He smirked. “Tell them all my dirty laundry?”

I returned his smirk with one of my own. “I can see the front page now.”

“He left you the paper,” Nico said, reaching for me. “Because he knew you
would fucking rock it, Rory. You are a brilliant journalist.”

His words warmed my insides. “You really think so?”

My husband arched a brow. “Of course. You are fucking fantastic.”

I leaned into his touch, pressing my forehead against his shoulder. “I feel so
bad about leaving him in that morgue for so long. We need to put him in the
ground, give him a proper burial.”

“Whatever you need,” Nico murmured, his hand in my hair. “I’m right here
for you, Rory.”

I broke down then, causing Nico to curse and gather me tightly against him as
I wetted his shirt with my tears. I cried about the fact that I hated the way that
Harper had died, that I never got to say goodbye to him. I cried that our lives
hung in the balance because of one man that thought he could play God to his
children.

I cried for Alice and the heavy loss that she was feeling just like I was.

Most of all, I cried that Anthony would never meet a wonderful man and
partner like Harper, one that would have loved the little boy like his own, just
as he had me.

Finally, when my tears were spent, Nico pulled me back and wiped them
away with his thumbs. “Feel better?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, my throat raw. “I do.”

“Good,” Nico answered. “I can’t stand your tears, Rory, and plus, I think my
sauce is burning.”

I let him go with a snort, and he turned around, stirring it quickly. There was
something about the way he was looking so domesticated that I wanted to
bottle up this moment and stay in it forever. God, I loved him.

These were the moments that I hoped we wouldn’t miss out on, the ones that
kept us grounded.

When he turned back, I pressed my lips to his. “Thank you.”

He returned my kiss. “For what?”

“For just being you,” I answered, framing his face with my hands. “I don’t
know if I tell you enough how much I appreciate everything you are doing to
keep our family safe. You are my family, Nico, and I hope that you know
how much.”

He covered his hands with mine, clearing his throat. “Stop, Rory. I’m not the
fucking hero.”

“You can be,” I told him. “And in my eyes, you will be.”
When he crushed me to him, I felt the rapid beating of his heart against my
chest, the tender way he held me as if I were going to disappear at any
moment. This was going to work out. I was going to make sure that my
family stayed together, no matter what we went through with Carmine.

Because if I lost my family, I had nothing. Nico wasn’t the only one afraid of
losing it all.
 Chapter 9
Rory

The car pulled up to the curb and I drew in a breath, a nervous flutter inside
my chest. It was the day of Harper’s funeral, and no matter how many times I
tried to tell myself that he was gone, I couldn’t process it. I really didn’t
know what would make this final for me. Maybe if I picked up where he left
off with the paper or as time passed and there was no Harper, but the grief
was real.

I felt like someone had taken me and turned me inside out, the rawness to my
soul something I hadn’t expected when I woke up this morning. It hurt to
know he was really gone, and today we would be putting him in the ground
permanently.

“You okay?”

I looked over at Nico, who was watching me with wary eyes. “I really don’t
know.”

He reached for my hand and I clasped his tightly. “I’m right here,” he said
softly, rubbing his thumb over the top of it. “It’s not going to be an easy day,
Rory. It’s hard to bury someone you cared for.”

I gave him a nod, feeling the swell of unshed tears prick my eyes. I wasn’t
even sure how I could have any tears left, especially since I had been crying
all morning, but they just didn’t seem to stop.

This was all so final. “I just—this sucks.”

“It does,” Nico said quietly, looking down at our joined hands. “And I wish I
could take the pain away from you.”

I knew he would. Nico would shoulder it all if I let him. These last few days
had put both of us in a turmoil of emotions, an anxiety that maybe we hadn’t
felt before, and I was worried about our own mental health if we were able to
get through this alive.

We had to get through this. Anthony depended on us both. Lorenzo and

Angelica’s sole existence was dependent on the fact that Nico could keep
them away from Carmine and Elias.

There was a lot riding on the next few weeks, even months. I knew that Nico
wasn’t sleeping well, waiting for his father to strike, and honestly, I had
started looking over my shoulder too. Right now, there was a truce, however
temporary it was going to be, but the truce wouldn’t last for long.

“You ready?” Nico said, pulling me out of my tortured thoughts for now.

I nodded, and he released my hand to open the car door. The weather was
stinking perfect today, the kind of weather that I was sure Harper would be
itching to fish in. I wanted it to match my mood, like a downpour or gray,
stormy skies that would weep for the loss of a great man.

I got neither.

Alice and I had discussed options for Harper’s funeral, and both of us finally
decided that he would want something small, and the less fuss, the better. The
Midtown Post had run a feature, written by me, on his life this morning,
detailing how he had come to build a successful paper empire and noting
some of his bigger front-page news over the years. I had let the staff that had
worked on the Midtown Post write their own articles about our fearless leader
to the point where all the publication was dedicated to Harper.

Finally, on the back page was his obituary, with help from Alice to fill in
some of the blanks that I didn’t know about my former boss and mentor. All
in all, he would have laughed at the enormous number of dedications to him,
stating that he wasn’t worth the fuss, but to me, it was cathartic to give him
the proper send-off.

Nico waited for me to join him by the car, taking my hand and clasping it in
his before we walked to the gravesite. I saw Alice already seated before the
closed coffin, tears in her eyes, and I forgot to breathe as I gazed upon the
gorgeous oak coffin gleaming in the sun. Instead of a funeral spray, we had
chosen a few roses to be placed on top. Harper had never been a flower man
anyway.

It was hard to believe that my mentor was in that coffin, dressed in his
customary dress shirt rolled to his elbows and wrinkled khakis that we had
specifically told the funeral home not to press. They had cautioned us not to
ask for a viewing, the bullet ravaging his face so badly that they had
struggled to put him together, and I was glad that I had declined to see him. I
didn’t want my last memories to be that visage, but one of him grinning or
hanging the cigar off his lip as he grumbled about the last article before the
deadline.

That was the Harper I knew.

I also recognized a few of the staff members from the paper in some of the
seats behind Alice, all wearing their appropriate masks per the protocol.
Harper didn’t have any family save Alice, so we had decided to have those
that were close to him in his work be the guests of honor.

But as I gave them each a smile, my smile died as I saw the lone man seated
in the back row, sans a mask.

“What the fuck?” I heard Nico say as he saw his father at the same time I did.
I couldn’t move. Why was Carmine here? Why was he picking this time, an
incredibly sad time in my life at that, to feel the need to come and be the
center of attention?

Now I saw the guards standing among the headstones, clearly ready for a
fight if one were to start. I didn’t know what Carmine would be here for other
than to intimidate us, and I wanted to march up to him and give him a piece
of my mind for what he was doing.

But that would be causing a scene, and right now, this was about Harper.

Carmine inclined his head, a smirk playing on his lips, and I turned away
sharply, nearly dragging Nico with me as we found our seats next to Alice.
“Who is that man?” she hissed, clearly seeing the exchange.

Nico warned me with a squeeze on my hand, and I drew in a breath, glad that
my mask was hiding the trembling of my lips. “No one important.”

Alice snorted, adjusting her skirt around her knees. “He certainly doesn’t
look like someone that isn’t important. He came with an entourage.”

Luckily, the priest presiding over the service stepped up to the casket, and I
didn’t have to answer, a thousand thoughts swirling in my mind about why
Carmine was here. He had killed Harper, either him or Elias, so were they
here to gloat on their job well done or was it something else?

I hated this. I hated having all these questions and no answers!

The service was designed to be short, and as the priest neared the end, I felt a
fresh flood of tears start. Soon they would be lowering Harper into the
ground, and he would become nothing more than a distant memory in the
months ahead. Sure, I would be surrounded by his presence while I remained
the head of the Midtown Post, something I hadn’t even had a chance to
discuss properly with Nico, given our own uncertain future to begin with.

Would he let me work once all of this with his father was over? He had let
me keep my job so far, but being the editor and owner of a paper was far
different than me publishing a few articles here and there.

Did I want a full-time job like that? At another point in my life, I would have
jumped at the chance, but now that I had a family, I wasn’t so sure I wanted
to be career-focused. It had nothing to do with the amount of money Nico had
or the nice life we lived.

I wanted to see Anthony grow, take his first steps, say his first words. I
wanted to be there for every milestone, something I couldn’t do if I was holed
up in the office all the time.

That, and since tangling with Carmine, I was starting to realize how precious
life was. Every moment was like a gift, and I didn’t want to waste whatever
time I had on this earth.

The service wrapped up, and Alice reached over, wrapping her arm around
me. “That was lovely.”

“It was,” I responded, my voice clogged with tears.

“I’m sorry to hear of your loss.”

My head shot up at the familiar voice, and I found Preston looking down at
me. What the heck?

“Who are you, again?” Alice asked immediately, wariness in her voice. “I
don’t recall.”

“I’m representing the NYPD Investigative Crimes Division,” he replied

smoothly, his eyes on me. “Preston Roberts, district attorney.”

Alice eyed the hand he held out, but I was more focused on the low growl
that had escaped my husband as he realized who else had come to join the
party. “I, well, thanks for coming,” she answered. “I hope you get whoever
did this.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, looking at Nico. “Mr. D’Agostino.”

Nico rose before I could stop him, and I recognized his stance, my heart
lurching in my chest. “Roberts,” he answered. “I didn’t know that the NYPD
did funeral calls like this.”

Preston smirked. “A new policy. We find it easier for those who need us to
recognize a face with a name.”

I stood quickly, grasping Nico’s arm with my hand. There was only one
reason that Preston was here, and that was to bait Nico. “Surely you can
understand that this is a private affair,” I forced out, keeping my voice even.

Preston took a step back. “Of course. I just wanted to pay my respects.” He
looked over at me. “I’m sure we will be talking soon, Mrs. D’Agostino.”

Nico started forward, but I held him back, hating that Preston walked away
unscathed. This wasn’t how this day was supposed to go. “He’s not worth it,”
I murmured to Nico. “Let him go.”

Nico cleared his throat, but he didn’t let down his guard as Carmine came
forward, clasping Alice’s hand in his own. “I’m so sorry for your loss, my
dear,” he replied, every word like a dagger to my own soul. “Mr. Owens was
a close personal friend of mine.”

Alice, God bless her, saw directly through Carmine’s ruse and narrowed her
gaze. “I don’t recall you ever around my Harper.”

Carmine chuckled, patting her hand. “It’s because he liked to keep his
business separate from his personal life. I assure you; I knew Harper very
well.”

She didn’t look as if she believed him, but he released her hand and turned
toward us, winking. “Good to see you both.” I cringed as he leaned forward,
bussing my cheek with his lips. “And I am intrigued that you are sharing
secrets with the DA, my dear. I can’t wait to discuss this with him.”

“Leave her the hell alone,” Nico growled as his father straightened. I was
helpless to hold him back, my hand slipping off his arm as he took a step
forward. “If you have something to say, you can say it to me.”

“Nicolas, Nicolas,” his father replied, shaking his head. “That possessive
nature of yours will get you in some trouble one day.” He tapped on Nico’s
chest. “I look forward to our next encounter, son. It’s never a dull moment.”

Nico visibly stiffened, but he let his father walk away, likely unsure like I
was at what Carmine would do if he were attacked. “Come on,” I told him,
reaching for his hand. Lord, I could feel the anger right down to his fingers!
“Let’s go.”

“I hope to hell you will tell me what that was all about one day,” Alice
muttered as she joined us. “Because those two were no friends of my
Harper.”

“No, they weren’t,” I murmured, watching as Carmine’s guards fell into place
behind their don. It was a show of strength, what Carmine had done here
today, and I knew it was far from over.
 Chapter 10
Nico

Rory was silent all the way back to the penthouse, and I was glad. I was too
pissed off to carry on a conversation about what had just happened, not
believing the gall of my father and of the fucking DA to show up uninvited to
the funeral of the man that they had both gotten killed.

Though I believed that my father was personally responsible for Harper’s

death. Preston had just helped him along.

I knew what he was doing. He was trying to insert his presence into our lives,
remind us that he was still in charge, and it fucking pissed me off. One bullet.
That was all it would take to take him down, yet the moment I did that, I
would be putting Rory and Anthony in danger.

Fuck me, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go all out and kill the bastard without an
actual plan, one that seemed to fail at every turn.

It wasn’t until we arrived in the penthouse and Rory was holding our son that
she looked at me. “I can’t do this,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast.

My fucking heart stilled in my chest. “What can’t you do?” I couldn’t lose
her now.

“I can’t fight your father like this, Nico,” she whispered, her eyes finding
mine. “I don’t know what I’m doing or if we can even do anything to take
him down! Preston came today to taunt me, though I don’t think he was
expecting Carmine to be there. What if your father thinks I have said
something? He will come after Anthony and me and you.”

I was at her side in a minute, gathering them both into my arms. “Shh,” I
said, pressing my lips to her temple. “It’s going to be all right. I swear it.”

She trembled in my arms. “Do you really believe that, Nico? How can it be
all right? Your father wants to kill us!”
Anthony started to cry, and Rory moved out of my arms to soothe him, going
through the motions of getting his bottle while I stripped off my coat. She
was right. I wasn’t sure how it was going to be all right. Hell, I didn’t even
know what to do now. I had a thought, a plan that would hit my father where
it hurt the most, but the moment I executed that plan, I had to be ready for
him to come after me. It was going to be something he didn’t see coming,
something that he thought I didn’t have the fucking balls to do.

This was about revenge, not proving myself to my father. He had tried to run
my life for long enough.

We spent the next hour getting Anthony settled and in the arms of the waiting
Tilda before departing to our bedroom to change out of the funeral attire. The
moment the door closed, I locked it, leaning against the wood. “You did good
today,” I told Rory as she stepped out of her heels. “You stood up to him and
didn’t react.”

“I wanted to kill him,” she answered, her hands clenched at her sides. “I
wanted to take my knife and ram it into his gut for even getting into my
personal space.”

I pushed away from the door, crossing the room to take her arms in my
hands. “I know, and you will have your chance. We have to stick together
from now on. He’s not done. We aren’t the monsters, Rory.”

She sighed, biting her lip. “I know. I just want this to be over, Nico. I want to
have a normal life.”

I snorted. “You married me. Nothing is normal about that.”

A hint of a smile played on her lips. “You’re right. I can’t be normal if I

married you.”
In a flash, I had her off the floor and on the bed. “What are you doing?” Rory
squealed, pushing at my chest lightly.

I ran my hand up her leg, pausing just under her pencil skirt. “I’m about to
ravish you.”

Rory laughed. “Oh my God, Nico. You sound like a cheesy romance novel!”

“Hey, it works in the books,” I grinned. “Why not try it on my wife?” More
importantly, I had gotten her to laugh, and some of the tension eased in my
chest. My wife shouldn’t be worried about matters such as her father-in-law
wanting to kill her or the war that was brewing.

She should be laughing, smiling, gasping my name, all of which I planned to

have her do this afternoon.

“Tell me,” I said as I slid my hand over her knee, pushing up her skirt in the
process. “When is the last time I tasted you?”

“Nico, we don’t have time for this,” she stammered as her creamy thighs
came into view.

“Oh, fuck yeah, we do,” I countered, my cock hardening as I caught a

glimpse of her black lace panties. “In fact, my calendar is clear for the rest of
the day.”

I heard her sharp intake of breath as my mouth replaced my fingers on her

thigh, her arousal hitting my senses full force. We both needed this, a chance
to forget, even if for a little while.
Her hands found my hair and I knew I had won, moving my mouth up her leg
and placing it directly in the center of her already wet panties.

“Nico,” she gasped, trying to move. “This is crazy.”

I clamped my hands onto her hips and held her in place, my tongue dragging
over her slit. She tasted like heaven and sin all wrapped into one, and I
wanted more.

I needed more.

I removed a hand long enough to hook my finger to the side of her panties
and haul them aside, exposing her glistening mound. “Fucking gorgeous,” I
told her before leaning in for a taste.

Rory whimpered as I delved in, teasing her until her hands clenched tightly in
my hair, holding me in place.

I knew what she wanted, and I was going to give it to her.

Her legs tightened around my head, and she arched against my intrusion,
panting my name. “Nico, I’m close.”

I removed my mouth long enough to look at her. “Then let go, Rory.” I
wanted her to flood my mouth with her release, to coat my tongue with
nothing more than the taste of her.
She screamed my name as the orgasm overtook her, bucking against my
mouth. I groaned as her flood burst onto my tongue, coating her entrance for
my cock.

Fuck, Rory was going to make me come in my pants.

Once her body quit shaking, I stood beside the bed, yanking my shirt over my
head and reaching for my pants. “I want to fuck you,” I told her. “Until we
can’t remember who we are.”

“Oh God,” she whispered, watching with lidded eyes as I removed my pants.
She was still fully dressed, but it was going to take too long for me to remove
her clothing.

I needed to be inside her.

Dragging her panties down her legs, I threw them aside and grabbed her
ankles, pulling her to the end of the bed. “You are going to feel every inch of
me,” I said as I positioned myself.

“Nico, please,” she begged, trying to reach for me. I hooked her legs on my
shoulders and slid into her, groaning as her tight sheath swallowed my cock.
Inch by inch, I felt her contract around me, her warmth sliding across my
sensitive skin, and knew I was going to embarrass myself this time.

I couldn’t stand it. She was so fucking tight, so fucking wet that all I could
think about was having her quivering around me as I pounded into her.

So that was what I did. I angled her hips until she was sobbing my name,
orgasm after orgasm racking her body while I gritted my teeth and held onto
mine. “Fuck,” I finally said, clenching my jaw as I pounded into her. “I
can’t.”

Her eyes flew open, and she stared me down, her hands clenching into the
sheets on the bed. “Nico.”

“Rory!” I answered her in a hoarse shout, spilling my seed into her. I felt it
clear to my toes, collapsing on top of her a moment later. “Fuck, I love you.”

She let out a little laugh. “I would hope so, after that, and I love you too.”

This was all that mattered, this overwhelming love between us, and I would
fight to the very end to keep it.

**

I barely heard the chime of my cell phone later on, drowsily lifting my head
off Rory’s chest. “Leave it,” she murmured, her hands finding my hair.

“I wish I could,” I said, rising reluctantly to locate my cell in my coat pocket.

It was Vincent, and I swiped to answer the call. “This better be fucking
good.”

“You must be busy,” he said dryly. “Preston Roberts was found dead outside
the NYPD thirty minutes ago.”

I looked over at Rory, who must have seen the look on my face, for she sat
up. “What is it?” she asked immediately.

“Preston is dead,” I answered.

“Deader than a doornail,” Vincent supplied. “What do you want to do, boss?”

We didn’t need to talk about who had killed the DA. I was 99 percent sure it
was my father, likely Elias carrying out his missive. Preston had fucked up by
coming to the funeral today, and my father had carried out the plan that he
had assured us would be a show of solidarity.

Apparently that was shit too. “You know what to do,” I said to Vincent
before ending the call. What my father didn’t know was that I had my own
plans, not fucking trusting anything he had said or any promises he had made
to my wife.

“Nico,” Rory started, swallowing hard as I rejoined her in bed. “What are we
going to do?”

I smoothed her hair back from her face. “We are going to lie in this bed and
wait.”

She arched a brow. “Wait for what?”

An evil grin crossed my face. “Wait for the shit to hit the fan, love.”

“But your father is sending that as a message,” she started as I got her to lean
against me this time, my hand tangled in her hair. “He’s coming.”

“He won’t be after a while,” I stated, clenching my jaw. My father had forced
my hand, and I was about to show him I wasn’t as weak as he thought I was.

An hour later, my cell rang again, and this time, I put it on speakerphone so
Rory could hear. “It’s done,” Vincent replied. “He’s dead.”

Rory looked at me with wide eyes, and I knew she was thinking I had killed
my father. “Elias,” I told her, wishing I could hand my father’s head on a
platter to her. The time would come, but right now, I had taken out his
minion, cutting off his circulation to the NYPD. Now my father would have
to rely on others to do his business or handle it himself.

“Oh my God,” Rory breathed. “You killed him?”

“Technically, I did,” Vincent spoke up. “But who’s looking at the facts
anyway?”

I ended the call before my second-in-command could get any cockier, taking
Rory’s shaking shoulders in my hands. “An eye for an eye,” I said softly,
searching her gaze. “Not for the fucking DA, but for Harper.” I had
conveniently come across some information right before the funeral that had
implicated Elias in killing Harper, so this hit was only sweeter knowing I had
taken out Harper’s killer.

“He killed Harper?”

I nodded. “And now he’s dead.”

Rory swallowed a few times before she threw herself at me. “Thank you,
Nico. Thank you.”

I loosed a breath, glad that my wife wasn’t running away screaming in terror.
I was a fucking monster, but it was because I wanted to ease her pain.

Now the real fight was about to be on.

 Chapter 11
Rory

The next few days were tense. I found myself unable to believe that Elias had
been murdered and that Nico had been the one to make sure it happened. He
had avenged Harper’s death, and while I should have felt bad about the whole
eye-for-an-eye scenario, I didn’t.

I couldn’t. Elias had done horrible things to not only Nico but to Angelica
and Harper. He had gotten a woman pregnant under the worst possible
circumstances and then stashed her away so that my husband would carry
around the guilt of what he thought he had done to Angelica.

Now there was a woman who had lost everything in her life, her parents, her
youth, her innocence, and she had a son that didn’t know anything but
violence.

That was why I couldn’t feel bad about what Nico had done.

Nico, too, was feeling the strain. I could see it in his eyes, how he stayed
close to the penthouse whenever possible, even conducting some of his
business there. He was worried about the backlash of what he had ordered to
be carried out, and I didn’t know how to help him.

I also didn’t push him to do anything else. I didn’t ask to go anywhere, a little
bit afraid, too, of what I might find once I stepped outside. Carmine was
biding his time for his strike, and I was afraid for all of us.

It also didn’t help that as we learned more about Preston’s death, it wasn’t
going to be hard for the NYPD to figure out who to blame. His death had
made the headlines as he was a district attorney, and night after night, I sat in
bed, curled up next to Nico as we watched the information unfold. Nico had
already told me that it would give the police yet another reason to crack down
on the D’Agostino Mafia and not to be surprised if they came to visit.

Which they did. Two detectives came to speak to Nico and me a few days
later, asking all sorts of questions. Apparently there had been rumors about
Preston not only helping me but also that he had a confrontation with me at
Harper’s funeral, and they wanted to know about it.

Nico did most of the talking, and I was amazed at the way my husband
placated them so quickly. Yes, I had been working with the DA, but it was to
find out information for the paper, not to do any digging on my new family’s
dirty laundry. He also told them that since Harper had published the article,
Preston had informed me that he felt obligated to come to the funeral to pay
his respects.

Lies, all of them, but the detectives seemed to take it in stride and departed
not too long after.

I felt like they weren’t done, which meant we needed to end this business
with Carmine and move on. It was painfully obvious that the truce was off,
especially after Elias was murdered, and we had to get a leg up on the Mafia
don if we wanted to survive.

Our plan had to be executed well, with no room for error.

I just wasn’t 100 percent sure what the plan was.

One night, after a week had passed since Elias’s death, Nico and I were on
the sofa, watching the evening news. The stories were about some police
officer in Minneapolis that had potentially killed this guy named George
Floyd during an arrest, and now the city was bracing for violence. “How
horrible,” I murmured as Nico played with my hair, my head resting on his
chest. “I hope they don’t let him get away with it.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Nico responded, his voice full of worry. “It’s only a
matter of time before violence breaks out about this. I mean, look at the past
incidents of police-involved killings. People aren’t just going to stand around
and let this one off the hook.”

I sat up. “It will be chaos here,” I told him, a thought forming in my mind.
“The police will be busy with the protests if they come.”
Nico eyed me. “So, you are saying now’s the time to strike against my
father.”

“I’m tired of waiting around for him to do so,” I said, a familiar anxiety
creeping into my bones. “We are literally sitting around waiting for Carmine
to show his face. Why do we need to do so? Why can’t we be first?”

“I did that with Elias,” Nico said slowly. “I sent a message.”

“We need a bigger one, “I interrupted. “He’s still not taking us seriously. I
think he believes we will cave at any moment, and he will win.” I felt that
wholeheartedly. Carmine was going to push us until we gave up for the sake
of our family, but who was to say that we had to let him do so? He was just a
person, not some god that was untouchable. “If we take the body of the
snake, then the head is useless.”

Nico blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “You’re asking me
to wage war on a man that I know I can’t beat.”

“That’s the thing,” I interrupted again, taking his face in my hands. “I know
you can beat him. We can beat him together. You have your violent ways,
and I have everything else.”

“So, you only know me for my violent ways?”

I rolled my eyes, his slight undertone warming my body. “You know what I
mean. I can hit at him with words.” I had attempted to do so before, to ruin
his reputation, and it hadn’t gone so well, but now I felt like I could do it.

Nico leaned forward, pressing our foreheads together. “I’m so fucking

worried, Rory. He’s going to come after you and Anthony.”

“I think he’s going after Angelica first,” I answered softly, hearing the fear in
his voice. “She’s a loose end he needs to tie up, and he can’t afford for her to
tell her story. It will be the end of him.” But if I could get her to talk, then we
could put something together while protecting the young woman from his
clutches. The familiar flare of excitement started to spread throughout my
body, a feeling that I usually got whenever I was on a story that was going to
make the front page.

Now I controlled what went on the front page, and it was going to be epic to
paint Carmine into a corner that he wouldn’t be able to get out of it.
“Besides,” I continued. “We need to get the heat off of you.” I was scared to
death that Nico would be ripped away from me at any moment, that the cops
would come back and arrest him for Preston’s death, leaving me to fight
Carmine alone.

We needed to go at him as a unit. Nico let out a ragged sigh. “Fine. I will
look into where to attack first, but we make no moves unless each other
knows. I won’t be fucking blindsided again.”

I pulled back so he could see my eyes. “I’m not going to do that again. You
will know everything I do.”

“Fuck, Rory, you are coming over to the dark side,” he said, his eyes burning
with intensity. “And I’m fucking hard as a rock.”

I looked down to confirm that indeed he had a tent in his joggers. “Well,” I
said, reaching out to grip him through his joggers. “You better get used to it,
or at least until we defeat your father. I’m not giving up, Nico. I’m not
backing down.”

He pushed me back on the sofa before covering his body with mine. “Well
then, Mrs. D’Agostino,” he grinned, grinding his body against mine. “I think
that I’m going to enjoy this side of you for the time being.”

I reached up and pulled him down into a kiss, allowing myself to forget for a
while. What I hadn’t told Nico was that I would do anything it took to keep
my family safe. Nico could have his plans, but I was going to have mine, and
we would take his father down together.

Otherwise, Carmine could use this chaos of the summer to kill us all.
 Chapter 12
Rory

Clashes with protesters have grown violent over the past three days, with
twenty arrests and two deaths. One police officer was taken to the hospital
with minor injuries. The New York governor has said in a statement that he
doesn’t condone the violence against his city and will do all that it takes to
protect its people and its communities.

Meanwhile, the threat of spreading the coronavirus looms large, given the
number of people that are showing up night after night and taking to the
streets. While some have masks to hide their identities, not all do, and it begs
the question of how many more outbreaks we will see from these activities.
Are we looking at a surge in New York?

I clicked the TV off and sighed, wondering why I even watched the news
when it was filled with nothing but depressing stories. The violence over the
police killings had spread to the city, but we weren’t as bad off as some of the
other places, such as Portland or Minneapolis. Coupled with the pandemic
still raging, I was afraid to really go outside at all.

Those weren’t my only fears, however. After Elias’ death, I had waited with
bated breath for Carmine to strike back. And he had, with a vengeance. Those
that had turned against him while he was in the hospital were turning up
dead, meaning that Nico had fewer and fewer people to back him in the war
with his father.

Several of the businesses that Nico supported had been torched, and since the
cops were too busy dealing with the protests, there was no one asking a heck
of a lot of questions.

Except me.

My main question was when it was going to come to a head. Every time Nico
left the penthouse, I was in fear for his life, knowing that his father would
stop at nothing to kill his only son. It hurt me to see my husband so hurt over
this war, not because he cared for his father but because innocent people that
trusted in him were getting hurt.

I wasn’t allowed to leave the penthouse under any circumstances unless I was
with Nico. That was fine by me. I ran the Midtown Post from the office he
had fashioned for me at the penthouse, and considering that most people were
working from home anyway, it was working out quite nicely. Now I could be
home with Anthony and still be a working mother; journalism was one of the
things I didn’t want to give up just because I had a child.

Well, that and a rich husband, but if Carmine kept torching Nico’s
businesses, he wasn’t going to be rich much longer.

Not that I cared a whole lot. I would have loved Nico even if he didn’t have
any money, and while it was nice to be living in the lap of luxury like the
penthouse, I didn’t necessarily need all of those comforts. I did like the
support of knowing we were pretty well protected here.

I just didn’t know for how much longer we could hide from Carmine. I knew
he was coming after what Nico valued most, which was his son, and I would
do all I could to protect Anthony from his own grandfather.

It was odd to even consider that a grandparent would be after killing his own
grandson. I couldn’t comprehend the threat that Carmine saw in my son, that
he would be concerned about what Anthony could do to the Mafia Carmine
loved so much.

But even as he saw Anthony as a threat, Nico was a much bigger one, and
since he had killed Carmine’s henchman, I doubted that his own father was
going to let him get away with it.

He just wasn’t coming at Nico directly, and that was what scared me most
about it all. I was more of a wield-the-pen-and-kill-them-with-words sort of
girl, and I knew that my husband was more strike first and ask questions
later.

We had to stop Carmine. We couldn’t let him win. I wasn’t about to lose all
that I had fought so hard for, the husband I didn’t know I needed and the son
I would rip out my very heart to protect.

Nico wasn’t backing down, however. He had torched a few of his father’s
businesses himself, and every night it felt like there was another one going up
in flames. For each business that Carmine attacked, Nico hit back with two
more, one being a warehouse by the Hudson that had held millions of dollars’
worth of drugs that his father was trying to push out to the rest of the country.
I was surprised that he had done something like that, knowing it was hitting
his pocket as much as his father’s, but Nico had informed me that he would
rather take the hit and be satisfied that his father had done the same than to let
him make millions. In doing so, he would also turn some of Carmine’s top
suppliers against him, knowing that they couldn’t trust him with their product
while this war raged on.

I just kissed my son extra at night and held my husband even tighter, praying
to anyone that was listening that they wouldn’t be taken from me. I couldn’t
bear it. I didn’t want to bury my husband, become a widow at the hands of
his father.

I didn’t want my child to grow up in this evilness, to see the fighting between
those that were supposed to care about him and have him learn the same hate
that Nico had for his father.

I wanted Anthony to have nothing more than love surrounding him, and
while I tried desperately to make that happen, it was also exceedingly
difficult to keep a brave face about it.

The doorbell rang and I pushed myself off the couch, nodding to the ever-
present guards that remained in the penthouse now. Nico had tripled them
around the building, with instructions to haul anyone off that wasn’t on our
short list of people we trusted, but it was the guards inside that had me
unsettled. I knew they would lay down their lives for my family and me, but
just knowing that they were needed was horrifying.

“It’s Emilia,” I told the guard, flipping around my phone to show the video
feed. “I’m confirming her.”
“Of course, Mrs. D’Agostino,” he stated, clearing his throat. “We just have to
be sure.”

“I know,” I said softly as I pulled open the door. “I know you are doing your
job, and I appreciate it.”

“You do?” Emilia asked, arching a brow. “Well, honey, I appreciate you as
well.”

I rolled my eyes, opening the door wider so she could come in. “I was talking
to the guards, not you.”

She gave me her perfect pout, dropping her bag on the couch. “Well, I
appreciate you, Rory. I mean, look at you! Mob wife, paper owner, and mom.
You should be on some magazine cover as the woman who can do it all.”

“Yeah, right,” I said, moving to the nearby overstuffed chair so that Emilia
could coo over Anthony. “I feel like I’m failing at it all, really.”

“If you were,” Emilia countered. “Then you would be dead. The whole bit
about you being alive still surprises me.”

I shot her a dirty look, knowing that she wasn’t far off. If I was utterly failing
at this, then I would be dead. I had exposed some pretty big bombshell
secrets of Carmine’s, aided in the rescue of the woman that I had thought up
until now was Nico’s wife, and faced the Mafia don down with my own set
of questions.

All in all, it was a miracle that I was still alive. “So, what’s going on in your
world?” I asked, draping my legs over the side of the chair. “Where are you
jet setting off to next?”

Emilia shook her head as she let Anthony grab her fingers. “Nowhere right
now. The pandemic has put a damper on a lot of my traveling. Most of the
fashion shows are canceled, and all my friends are scattered across the
country.”
“This one is stuck in New York,” I muttered, brushing my hair out of my
face. “Right inside this penthouse. So if you need to see someone, I won’t be
hard to find.”

Emilia snickered. “True. At least you have no life.”

She was right. I had no life. Nothing about my life was mine. “At least tell
me that you are staying safe.”

Emilia arched a brow. “Safe? Have you been outside? There’s nothing that
you can get into unless you want to protest, and while I can’t fault them for
attempting to speak out against what they don’t think is right, it’s not
something I want to do right now.”

“Yeah, me either,” I sighed, watching my bestie play with my son. “Did you
ever think this would be my life, I mean my actual life?”

“I thought you would eventually be the old cat lady,” Emilia teased. “I’m
really happy for you, Rory. I just hope that you can get all this mess behind
you and be happy all the time with that gorgeous husband of yours.”

I smiled, mainly because the guard at the door snorted softly. Nico was
gorgeous, and I now knew every inch of his toned body like he did mine. He
tried to calm my fears, but I could see in his eyes how he was worried about
what could happen next, and I worried about him.

A lesser man would crack under this pressure.

“Well,” Emilia announced, picking up Anthony and rubbing her nose against
his. “I think it’s time for us adults to have a drink.”

I seconded that.

**

Two nights later, I clenched and unclenched my hands nervously as I waited

for Nico to return, afraid of what I would find out when he did. He had gone
to get Angelica and Lorenzo out of the safe house to bring them to the
penthouse in an effort to give them more normalcy in their lives and to allow
them to meet me.

I was nervous, far more nervous than I had ever been in my entire life.

I had no idea what condition they were going to be in or if they would even
feel welcome here. Nico had told me that it was clear Angelica hadn’t been a
mother to Lorenzo, that she likely didn’t know how, and my heart went out to
her, knowing she had Lorenzo young and under the worst of circumstances. I
could help her.

I wanted to help her in so many ways.

The door opened and Vincent came through first, carrying a squalling boy in
his arms. The look on the man’s face would almost have been laughable if the
kid hadn’t been screaming his head off, and I rushed to him. “What’s
wrong?”

“He hated the elevator,” Vincent replied, wincing as the kid screamed in his
ears. “And the car ride and the fact that I even touched him.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” I cooed, smoothing the boy’s hair off his forehead.
Lorenzo reared up against my touch, and Vincent’s chin became a battering
ram, causing the guard to swear and hold him tighter. “Put him down,” I told
him, stepping back. The balcony door was locked at the top, so he couldn’t
throw himself off, and all the doors were shut to the bedrooms, so there
wasn’t going to be much he could destroy.

“Are you sure?” Vincent asked.

I nodded, and he set him down gingerly, backing away as if the little boy was
the spawn of the devil.

He was, but I wasn’t going to hold that against him. Lorenzo took off and I
maintained a distance behind him, letting him run around the penthouse as if
he were looking for a way out. What horrors had he seen in that brothel?
How many times had he come in contact with his father, with men who might
have abused him?

Finally, he stopped in his tracks and found a corner to sit in, drawing his
knees up to his chest and burying his face. Oh God, he was going to rip out
my heart! I sat against the wall not far from him, mimicking his stance. “I’m
Rory,” I said gently. “And I’m going to sit here with you. Is that okay?”

He didn’t answer but didn’t move either, so I considered that a win. I knew
he felt like a caged animal here, and I would sit on this floor for as long as he
needed.

Footsteps caught my attention, and I looked up to find Nico at the end of the
hall. I shook my head firmly at him. He nodded and walked in the other
direction, likely telling everyone else to do the same.

I didn’t know how long we sat there, but finally, as my legs started to go
asleep from the crouched position, Lorenzo lifted his head and his eyes,
Elias’ eyes, stared back at me. I held my breath as he started to move closer
until his little body was pressed up against mine and his head was lying on
my arm. His entire body trembled against mine as I gently moved my arm
and placed it around his shoulders, tears coming to my eyes. “I’m not going
to let anyone hurt you,” I whispered to him. “You can trust me.” I just hoped
I could keep my promise to him. We had no idea what was coming, but I was
going to treat this little boy like my own and protect him with my very life if
that was what it took.

A little while later, Nico made his way down the hall as Lorenzo slept against
me, his face softening as he saw the tears on my cheeks. “Are you okay?” he
whispered.

I shook my head no and he plunked down beside me, wrapping his arm
around my shoulders just like I was doing to Lorenzo. “He’s hurting,” I
forced out, breathing in Nico’s scent. “Oh God, Nico, what happened to
him?”
“I don’t know,” Nico said, his voice gutted. “But you are the perfect person
to make him feel like this is home.”

“Is this his home?” I countered softly as Lorenzo shifted closer to me in his
sleep.

Nico pressed his lips to my temple. “Of course it is. He’s welcome, and so is
Angelica.” He heaved a sigh. “I think she needs some of your kindness, too,
love.”

I nodded, leaning into him just a little more. I would work on Angelica next
and hopefully find a place for her to feel safe as well.
 Chapter 13
Rory

A few days later, I knocked on Angelica’s partially open bedroom door,

drawing in a breath as I did so. Lorenzo had found his place in our penthouse,
and while he still was prone to outbursts more times than he was actually
calm, Nico had managed to find a nanny who specialized in abused children,
which was what we both thought had happened to him. We didn’t know who
the abuse came from, but something bad had happened to the little boy, and
he needed a lot of help to get through it all.

I wasn’t going anywhere. After I rocked Anthony to sleep at night, I did the
same to Lorenzo, sometimes sitting in his little bed and reading a book or
other times just holding him until he cried himself to sleep. He was very wary
of Nico and the rest of the men in the penthouse, and Angelica hadn’t
bothered to even reach out to her son, which I couldn’t blame her for.

I could handle the slack in Lorenzo’s life. I had enough love to go around.

But after both boys were tucked in, I curled up next to Nico and cried as well,
hating that I couldn’t do more. He had told me that I was doing enough, but it
didn’t feel like it.

It felt like there was more, and I was hoping that Angelica could help me.
“Angelica?” I asked softly. “Can I come in?”

No answer, but since she hadn’t uttered a word since Nico had found her, it
wasn’t surprising either. I pushed open the door wider and found the young
woman standing before the windows, staring at the city below. She was
dressed in some of my clothing, her hair brushed carefully and in desperate
need of a cut as it hung down her back. She ate her meals in her room. I
always found her tray empty and the dishes carefully stacked for washing. I
tried to add special things, like a rich dessert or a bar of chocolate, to each
one, and felt rewarded that she was eating them.

She was far too skinny to begin with.

“Angelica,” I tried again. “It’s Rory.”

She turned, and her eyes stared back at me with no expression in them. It was
like staring into the eyes of someone who was already dead inside, and I felt
helpless at what to do for her. “How are you feeling?”

Nothing. I didn’t allow it to bother me, knowing that she wouldn’t warm as
fast to her new surroundings as her son would. “I wanted to let you know that
Lorenzo ate all his meal today,” I started out, figuring she would want to hear
about his progress. “He even played with some blocks without throwing
them, and considering I have the bruises to prove it, I’m super excited about
that one.”

Not a flinch of emotion on her face. What went through her mind when she
heard these things? Was it that Lorenzo reminded her of her innocence lost,
of what Elias had done to her? I desperately wanted to get in her head so I
could help her, but I didn’t know how. “Is there anything you need?” I tried
again, clasping my hands in front of me. Her eyes traveled down to my ring
and I touched it, a soft smile on my face. “It’s lovely, isn’t it? Nico picked it
out himself. He wasn’t, I mean, we weren’t planning on getting married, but
he, err, he surprised me with a wedding, and before I knew it, I was his wife.”
I let out a little laugh. “If I had known what I was getting into, I might have
questioned him just a little more.”

Meeting her gaze, I drew in a breath. “I know you have suffered, and I want
to help you. I’m a writer, you see, and I have this notion of bringing Carmine
down for everything he has done to his victims, you included. I’ve been told I
am a great sounding board to talk to, and I won’t print anything unless you
look at it first.” Drawing out the recorder I had stuck in my pocket on a
whim, I set it on the bed. “This will record your voice, just so I can make it
into a worthy article. I know you have a story to tell, Angelica. Let me help
you tell it.”

Her eyes looked down at the recorder, and for a moment I felt like she was
going to say something.
But she looked way, and I sighed inwardly. There was plenty of time. “It’s
fine if you don’t want to do it right now,” I told her. “I will be here whenever
you are ready.”

Moving to the door, I reached out to close it when her voice filled the air.
“He hurt me.”

Oh God. I turned and walked to the recorder, pressing it on. “Who hurt you,
Angelica?”

“Elias. Carmine. They hurt me. Nico, he tried not to, but they wouldn’t let
him just walk away. I don’t blame him.”

Her voice was rough from disuse, but it brought tears to my eyes that she
didn’t hold Nico responsible. Angelica drew in a steady breath, her eyes on
the recorder. “I remember the night they took us away. My dad was in the
living room and I was upstairs, listening to music. I had my earphones on, so
I didn’t hear them at first, but when the man stood in my doorway, I knew
that I was going to die.”

A tear escaped down her cheek, but she didn’t bother to wipe it away and I
sat on the bed, folding my hands in my lap and listening to her words. “The
SUV was in the back,” she continued, her voice monotone. “I remember
thinking that my dad was going to be upset that they had driven over the
grass he had worked so hard on. My mom was crying, and I tried to comfort
her. They didn’t bind us, so she hugged me close and told me that everything
was going to be okay. I don’t think she believed herself, but it was all that we
had to keep us sane, so I tried to believe her.”

Angelica swallowed and finally wiped away the tears, as if she were feeling
them for the first time. “They took us to that place,” she said, shivering. “My
dad was begging for Mr. D’Agostino to let us go, saying that his beef was
with him alone, but Mr. D’Agostino just laughed, stating that we would all
suffer for his insolence.” Angelica let out a rusty laugh. “I don’t know what
that word means, but to this day, it’s the only thing that I remember from that
entire conversation.”
“Nico was there,” she finally said, looking at me. “He was demanding to
know what was going on, and from the look on his face, he didn’t want to be
there either. I think.” She swallowed. “I think that he was just as surprised as
I was at what they were doing to my family.”

“He was surprised,” I added softly. “He had no idea what his father was
going to do.”

“I believe you,” Angelica answered. “You love him.”

I nodded. “I love him more than anything.”

“Good,” she replied with a sigh. “Then I can trust him too.”

“Of course.” I wanted her to know that she had nothing to fear from Nico for
both herself and her son. Nico would protect them with his very life, as if
they were family, and in some ways, they were.

Angelica was silent for a moment, and I thought she was done. “They put me
on that table,” she whispered. “I remember screaming for my dad to help, and
he kept telling me not to worry. I was so scared at what was going to
happen,” she squeezed her eyes shut. “There were so many that after a while,
I just blocked it out.”

I already knew the story from Nico’s perspective, but hearing it from her lips
made me want to sob for her.

“Nico was last,” Angelica said. “He looked so heartbroken that he was being
forced to do that to me, and I told him it was going to be okay. He was gentle,
and they laughed at him. It was him who tried to take me off that table, but
Carmine shot my parents and hit Nico, so he couldn’t help me any longer.”

Her hands splayed over her abdomen, as if she were picturing the baby that
had been there once upon a time. “It wasn’t long before I realized I was
pregnant. Carmine came to visit me in the house he was keeping me in and
told me it had to be Nico’s. I believed him for a time, but once Lorenzo came
along, I knew it wasn’t his son.” She shuddered. “It was Elias’.”
“What did Elias do to you after Lorenzo was born?” I asked, curious to know.
“I mean, you had his child.”

Angelica pursed her lips. “He visited me in the brothel many times, and he
did things to me that I tried not to like.” She gasped. “I hated myself for
loving him.”

I was floored. She loved Elias? I guessed with him being her only source of
companionship, it would be easy to grow to love him, but it was still
shocking to hear it from her.

“I can’t say anything else,” Angelica replied, turning away from me. “Please
leave.”

I cut off the recorder and did as she asked, softly closing the door behind me.
I had her story, albeit missing pieces, but the gist was what Nico had said to
me all those months ago. It was enough to turn everyone against the Mafia
don and give us a leg up on Carmine that he wouldn’t expect to see coming.

I just had to convince Nico of the same.

**

After dinner, he and I walked out onto the balcony with our drinks, looking
out over the city. “What do you want to discuss?” he said nearly immediately,
dangling the glass between his fingers.

“What do you mean?” I asked lightly.

Nico grinned, and I felt the stirrings in the lower half of my body. “You’ve
been itching to tell me something all night, Rory. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Okay, you are right,” I told him before launching into my visit with
Angelica. “I have the entire story, Nico. She doesn’t blame you.”

Relief flooded his handsome features, and he dragged his free hand over his
face. “Truly?”

I nodded, coming up to him so that I could place my hand on his cheek. Nico
was trembling. “Yes. She doesn’t blame you. She says you were the kindest
of them all and that she knew how hard it was going to be on you to do that.”

“Thank fuck,” he breathed. “I never meant to hurt her, and if I could have
gotten out with her that night, I would have.”

“I know,” I soothed him. “You have to forgive yourself, Nico. Angelica has.”

He blew out a ragged breath, his jaw working. “What now?”

“I want to publish her account in the Midtown Post,” I told him. “I want to
put it all out there so Carmine will struggle to maintain his relationships. He
killed innocent people and raped a young girl before storing her in a brothel
for years! If that’s not enough to sway people away from him, then I don’t
know what is.”

“Rory,” Nico said, his eyes searching mine. “Remember what happened the
last time you did something like this?”

I knew the consequences. Last time I had delved into Carmine’s twisted past,
I had lost my friend and mentor, as well as gotten a district attorney killed. If
I put this out there, Carmine would be coming for me. I knew it. “I have to do
something,” I told him. “I know you don’t want me in the middle of this
war.”

“Fuck, no, I don’t,” my husband breathed, pressing his forehead to mine.

“You mean every fucking thing to me, Rory. If he comes after you, he will
destroy me.”

I softened at Nico’s concern. “I know,” I said, wrapping my arms around him

and holding him close. “But this war is killing you slowly, Nico. I want your
father to be put away for a long time, and we will have to take chances if we
want to have a happy future.”
Nico knew I was right. In order for us to have a future, a true future, Carmine
had to be dead or in the custody of the police, spending the rest of his days in
prison. Otherwise, he wasn’t going to stop until we were both dead.

Or worse, until I was pregnant with his child. Carmine had already threatened
me with such, making me want to vomit at the thought of him putting his
hands on me in that manner. I wasn’t ever going to let him near me. I would
rather be dead first.

“All right,” Nico finally said. “I will let you do this, but you have to let me
read the piece first. I don’t want any accolades for what I did either. I am as
guilty as the rest of them, okay?”

“And we go to the police once I do,” I added. Nico sucked in a breath and
started to pull away, but I held tight. “This is the only way we are going to
get through this, Nico.” I had given it long thought, trying to figure out how
to get the police to see that Nico wasn’t all bad, and the only way was for him
to partner with them, to turn his back on the life he knew and give us a
chance at a future.

He drew me close, where I could place my head on his shoulder. “Fine. I will
consider it once we publish the article.”

That was all he was going to give me for now, and I was okay with that. “I
will start compiling it then,” I finished, breathing in his scent. “I love you.”

He let out a long breath. “I love you too, Rory. I’m just fucking scared that
I’m going to lose you and Anthony in the end.”

I hugged him tighter. I wasn’t about to let that happen, not until we had
exhausted all our options and truly had nothing left. Carmine had never come
up against an enemy like me before, and he had underestimated me from the
beginning. I wasn’t afraid of him.

I was afraid of what he could do if he chose to. He could take this all away
from me in a snap of his fingers.
I was going to beat him to the punch.
 Chapter 14
Rory

I sat back in the chair and scrolled through the final product, feeling a catch
in my throat as I did so. It was by far the best article I had written, taking
Angelica’s words and crafting them into words that showed the emotion she
had been feeling. It was what Harper would have called an exposé of the
heart, meant to tug at the heartstrings from the first line.

It was heartbreaking. While I should have felt a sense of pride in what I was
about to do, there was also a sense of loss in the words. Angelica had lost
everything: her innocence, her family, her future. There was nothing in the
article that wasn’t about loss, and I had every arrow I could point to Carmine
D’Agostino.

I had toyed with the idea of having Nico be interviewed to corroborate the
story but decided against it. The last thing he needed was for his father to turn
the blame on him and have the police start to sniff around us again. The
problem was, I didn’t know who his father had in the police that was still on
Carmine’s payroll now that Elias was gone, and he could still turn the tables.

The best part about it was that I owned the paper that was going to print the
story. There was no worry that it would be scrapped at the last minute or that
it wouldn’t run on the front page as I had planned. It was my baby, all of it,
and I was going to take full advantage.

I just wished I had someone else to validate the story other than my husband.

I saved the copy on the file share and stood, stretching my back. Angelica
hardly had said a word after speaking with me, not leaving her room to even
see her son. I hated it. I didn’t know how to help her move past this terrible
tragedy in her life, and since years had passed, I was afraid that she might be
too far gone. It wasn’t hard for me to see why. A lesser person would have
ended her life.

Still, I had given some thought to her one comment about Elias. Had she
really loved him? That was what I was gathering from her words, that she had
fallen in love with her torturer. It wasn’t uncommon for that to happen. After
all, sometimes the only warmth that a person who had been traumatized like
Angelica received was from those that had caused it.

Now Elias was dead, and she really didn’t have anyone save a few strangers
in us. Once this was all over, I wondered what we would do for her. She
needed therapy, but I also thought that she just needed peace and quiet. Based
on what I saw, she wouldn’t be able to care for Lorenzo now, not in the state
that she was in.

Which posed another question that I hadn’t broached with Nico yet. I
honestly didn’t know how to. Lorenzo clearly needed a loving family, but
could we be that family for him while Angelica healed? Could Nico look at
the boy that had the man’s face that had caused a good bit of this and not hold
it against him? I wanted to believe he could, but I also could understand if he
couldn’t.

My cell rang and I picked up it, seeing it was Emilia. “I have nothing for
you,” she stated the moment I answered her call. “I’ve tried, seriously, but the
names that Nico supplied are complete dead ends. Even my father can’t get to
some of them.”

The names she was referring to were the others that had been there that night
that Angelica had been raped. Nico had written down all the ones he had
recognized, which was a mixture of his father’s minions and the ones that had
been there at the party that might have known what was about to happen.
“It’s okay,” I sighed, brushing my hand through my hair. “I figured it was a
long shot.” We couldn’t let Nico reach out, so Emilia was disguising herself
so that she could see if they would talk to a beautiful woman instead.

Clearly it wasn’t working. “I will keep trying,” she said sadly. “I know this
means a lot.”

“I still have the article,” I reminded her. “And he can’t stop me from
publishing it.”
“Just be careful, Rory,” she cautioned. “Carmine’s not going to be happy
about what you have to say, and though the fucker deserves it, I don’t want to
lose my best friend in the process.”

We ended the call and I walked out of the office, crossing the living room to
look out over the city. I knew I was about to start an even bigger war, but
what choice did I have? I needed to draw Carmine out of his hole, poke the
bear with the stick until he slipped up.

Words were the best way to do it. He wouldn’t see them coming. He would
think that I wouldn’t be brave enough to go up against him, but that was
Carmine’s problem. He thought he ruled everything and everyone.

What he didn’t know was that I would rather die than have him continue to
hurt his son like he had. Nico’s life, his entire life, had been nothing but a ball
of hurt, and I wanted to help him get away from it. I wanted Nico to know
that there was so much more to his life, to our future, than what his father
was trying to do.

I wanted him to know that he was worth fighting for, and since he had been
fighting this battle alone, I was going to show him that he didn’t have to any
longer.

I had his back.

**

The next few days were tense. While I finalized the article for publishing,
Nico continued to pound his father’s investments, destroy his holdings, and
take the empire down. Every night he came home weary from watching yet
another business fall at his hands, and I knew that he didn’t like doing it.
Because of this war, there were innocent people that were losing their
businesses, their way of life, but Nico couldn’t have it both ways.

This was his only course.

One night, while I was tucking Anthony in, Nico came to the doorway and I
knew something was wrong immediately. “What is it?” I asked, crossing the
nursery quickly. “What happened?”

He drew in a breath, shoving his hand through his hair. “We have to go. I’ve
got Vincent getting Angelica, and someone is handling Lorenzo, but I need
for you to get Anthony.”

My heart stuck in my throat. “What happened?”

He didn’t look like he wanted to tell me, but in the end he leaned against the
doorframe, his body deflating. “He killed two of the fucking guards around
the building today and labeled them by number. The rest were able to hold
off the attack, but we aren’t safe here any longer.”

There was worry in his voice, worry I hadn’t heard before, and I forced my
own emotions down, compacting them for later. “All right,” I said, framing
his face with my hands. “All right. We are in this together.”

He pressed his lips to mine, and I could feel the desperation in his kiss. Nico
had never been this worried before, and he was scared for us. When he pulled
away, I gave him a wobbly smile. “I have bags ready to go. I will get
Anthony.”

“Thanks, Rory,” he said softly, his eyes searching mine. “I couldn’t do this
without you. I hope you understand that.”

I knew that, but I was still scared as hell about what was to come. “Let’s get
this moving.”

So, we did. Nico ushered us into an SUV, and I tried not to panic as I saw the
guns that were drawn as we did so. Nico followed us with his own gun in his
hand.

Whatever had happened was serious.

We drove through the night until we reached a cabin in the middle of

nowhere, the guards roaming the woods while we climbed out. “This is off
the grid,” Nico explained as he ushered me into the small four-bedroom
cabin. “My uncle owned it, and when he died, I bought it.”

“Wouldn’t your father know that?” I asked, shifting a sleeping Anthony in

my arms.

Nico shook his head. “Paid cash. The title is in a dummy name. He thinks it
burned down years ago.”

Some of the anxiety did ease from my shoulders as Nico showed me one of
the bedrooms. “You can put him in here,” he stated.

I laid our son down on the bed and put some pillows around him to keep him
from rolling. “What about Lorenzo?”

“He’s in one of the other bedrooms,” Nico explained. “And Angelica is in

one by herself.”

Straightening, I looked at him. “I want to see him.”

Nico took my hand and led me to Lorenzo’s bedroom, where the little boy
was seated on the bed with his nanny. “Lorenzo,” I said softly as I
approached the bed. “Are you okay?”

He turned those sad eyes to mine, and my heart wrenched in my chest. I was
unable to stop myself from reaching out and pulling him into a hug. We had
been trying out hugs since that night in the hallway, and tonight when his
little body relaxed against mine immediately, I felt the dampness in my eyes.
He was starting to trust me, and I couldn’t even describe what that meant to
me.

I don’t know how long I held him, but finally I had to let him go, tucking the
covers around him and handing him the stuffed animal that Emilia had
brought for him. “There’s no reason to be scared,” I whispered against his
forehead. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

“I will stay with him,” the nanny stated, giving me a small smile. “Since it’s a
bit tight here.”

“Thank you,” I told her before walking out of the bedroom.

Nico was waiting outside of the room, his hands in his pockets. “Do you want
to check on Angelica as well?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, Nico. I can’t get through to her.” No matter
how much I tried to engage her in conversation again, she never uttered a
word, and I felt ridiculous trying to force her to talk.

He drew me into his arms, rubbing my back. “It’s okay. You have done all
you can, Rory. I mean, look at what you have done with that little boy in
there. He trusts you.”

“I just wish I could do more,” I murmured against his shoulder. “We have to
stop Carmine.”

“And we will,” Nico replied, pulling me back to meet his gaze. “I’m fucking
sorry I had to uproot you like this.”

I shrugged, trying to keep the mood light. “It’s like the vacation we haven’t
ever taken.”

He grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Trust me. When we take a
vacation, it’s going to be without my fucking guards and somewhere where
you are naked all the time.”

I drew in a breath. “I have to go to the Midtown offices tomorrow,” I said,

seeing the change of emotions on his face.

“Fuck, no,” he replied, shaking his head immediately. “I’m not going to let
you do that.”

I clutched his arms. “I have to, Nico. I have to go and put the article on the
press.”
“Give it to someone else.”

“I can’t,” I cried out, frustrated that he wasn’t listening to me. “Everyone is at

home, and I can’t risk their lives.”

He leaned in. “I can’t fucking risk yours, Rory. My father wants to hurt me,
and if he took you away from me…” He didn’t finish, but I felt the tremor go
through his body.

“Nico,” I said softly, meeting his angry gaze. “I can’t let him win. This article
is everything, and you know just as well as I do that it’s going to be the only
way that we defeat him. Let me go. Send a dozen guards with me, but don’t
let him win.”

My husband released a ragged breath, looking away. “You will just go, won’t
you?”

“You know I will,” I answered softly. “We can’t be more than a few hours
from the city, can we?”

“I will go with you,” he ground out, refusing to meet my gaze.

I couldn’t let him do that. Without me here to protect Anthony and the guards
he was likely going to send with us, that would leave the children and
Angelica with a skeleton crew. “Anthony is our number one concern,” I
reminded him. “I need for you to stay behind and make sure that your father
doesn’t touch him. You know he’s going to come after him.” Carmine
wanted our baby so he could raise him to be just as evil as he was in some
sick, twisted way to overthrow Nico. He had tried with Lorenzo, but now that
the truth was out about who his father truly was, Carmine couldn’t use the
little boy any longer.

“Fine,” Nico replied, sounding not at all excited about it. “Fine. You will take
guards, Rory, and go straight there and straight back.” He drew in a breath.
“You’re right. Anthony is our top priority.”

My heart twisted at the thought of leaving Nico here, but it was the right
thing to do. He could protect our baby boy, and I could handle myself if
something happened. Besides, I would rather it be me than our son any day.
“We have to do this,” I said softly. “I have to make sure that this is
successful.”

“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered, pushing away from the wall and
walking away. I let him go, knowing that I was likely tearing him in two with
this decision, but it was the right one. He knew it, and I knew it. I probably
should have never left the city to begin with.

Instead of following my husband, I walked into the bedroom where we had

left Anthony and sat on the bed, brushing my son’s forehead with my fingers
as he slept. This was my heart, my life, him and Nico. Without them, I
wouldn’t be able to breathe. There would be no going forward for me, but if I
could take down Carmine and my life was forfeit, then I would do it so that
Nico could be free.

It wasn’t something I wanted to do, but if the time came, I would gladly do it.
 Chapter 15
Rory

I was almost asleep when the door opened softly, light spilling into the room
before it was quickly shut. “Nico?” I asked sleepily. “Is that you?”

There was a rustling of clothing before the bed dipped and his body slid next
to mine. “I’m sorry, I lost track of time.”

Rolling over, I peered through the darkness to find my husband staring up at

the ceiling, his jaw clenched. “What have you been doing?”

“Planning for tomorrow,” he stated firmly, raising one of his arms behind his
hand. “I had to make sure you were safe.”

He still didn’t sound like he was excited about it. “I’m sorry to put you in this
situation,” I said softly, laying my hand on his chest. “But we have to do it.”

He finally looked at me. “You have no fucking idea what anxiety I have for
you. I can’t fucking lose you, Rory.”

Tears sprang to my eyes as I heard the stark fear in his voice. “You’re not
going to lose me,” I told him, moving over in the bed so that I could straddle
him. “I’m going to follow every instruction and take down your father in the
process.”

There was a wry grin on his lips as his hands came up to grip my hips. “You
sound so much like a badass when you say it like that.”

“It’s the truth,” I answered, leaning down to brush my lips over his. He
groaned, and I felt his cock pressing against my ass insistently. He needed
me.

I was going to give him what he needed.

My hands slipped into his hair and I kissed him long and hard, letting my
emotions play out in my kiss. Nico was many things, but one thing he wasn’t
good at was hiding what he needed in the bedroom.

My hands roamed down from his hair to his shoulders, breaking our kiss with
a slight pant. “I want to touch you,” I told him as my fingers traced the
muscles there. “I want to kiss you.”

“Fuck, Rory,” he groaned. “I’m not going to last that long.”

“Then don’t,” I answered, lowering to brush my lips over his shoulder. This
wasn’t about me. This was about him.

His hands had a death grip on my hips as I kissed my way across his chest,
flicking his nipples with my tongue before dragging it down the center of his
chest, my body sliding as I went. His rigid cock dragged across my own
stomach, and I felt the build of want inside my own body, pushing it aside as
I reached his abdomen. Nico had stripped off his clothing save a pair of
boxers, and I arched a brow. “Boxers? Really?”

He let out a tortured laugh. “I threw them on this morning without thinking.”

I had grown used to him walking around with nothing under his trousers, but
this was a new thing that had me tugging on the waistband. “Take them off.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, shoving them down his hips and kicking them
away. His cock sprang from his body and my mouth went dry. “You need
me.”

“Fuck, yeah, I do,” he said, adjusting the pillow behind his neck so he could
watch me. His eyes glittered in the dark, and his hands flexed on the sheets in
anticipation. “I always need you, Rory. You’re all I fucking think about.”

I wanted to keep it that way. I stripped off the T-shirt I was wearing, and his
eyes dilated at the sight of my bare chest, but I shook my head. “Not now.”

“Tease,” he growled. My hand touched him, and he hissed as I slid it up his

shaft. “I’m going to need you to slow down,” he grunted.
When my lips touched the bulging head, I thought he was going to jump out
of the bed. “Steady now,” I murmured, brushing my thumb over the slit on
the top. “This is my time.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as I drew him into my mouth. His hands went gently into
my hair, and he guided me to the hilt, my mouth widening to make room.
“God, I love you.”

I loved him too, far too much. I worked him with my hand and my tongue
until he was panting, his hands tightening on my hair. I knew he was close,
and he wasn’t going to like the fact that I wanted him to come for me. “No,”
he hissed as his hips rose to meet my mouth. “Please.”

God, I loved it when he begged. My husband, the powerful Mafia don (well,
he should be), begging me to be cautious with him.

It was amazing.

“Rory,” he grunted as I continued before he shuddered and the first stream

shot in my mouth. I continued until there was nothing left, swallowing it all
as I backed away.

“What did you do to me?” he asked, his breathing heavy.

I wasn’t going to lie. I had a feline grin on my face as I joined him on the
pillow, my fingers circling his abdomen. “I relieved you, Nico.”

He growled and flipped me on my back, his body covering mine. “And now
it’s my turn.”

Oh God.

Nico kissed me leisurely until I was the one gasping for breath as he moved
to my breasts, lavishing my aching nipples with his tongue. “Nico,” I
breathed, my hands clenching in his hair.
He chuckled against my skin. “Not so nice, is it?”

“No,” I grumbled, his lips moving down to my stomach. When his hand
pulled down the waistband of my underwear, I forgot to breathe, knowing
what he was going to do. What I wanted him to do.

“Let’s see how you taste,” he said before stripping off my panties and placing
his mouth in the center of my thighs. I groaned as he did so, my body jerking
against his tongue when he found my swollen nub. I was already close to my
own orgasm, having gotten worked up over bringing him to his, and the way
that he used his tongue on my clit was torture.

Nico inserted his finger inside and crooked it up once, causing me to explode
against his mouth, crying out his name. One move. That’s all it took.

He didn’t relent, though, and finally I had to nearly kick him away to get him
to stop. “Mercy,” I gasped, closing my thighs tightly.

“Oh no,” he grinned, covering his body with mine once more. I felt him hard
against my leg and opened my eyes. “Seriously?”

He nodded, pushing apart my thighs. “Seriously. Give yourself to me, Rory.”

I would do so again and again if it meant I could keep him forever. Instead of
pressing fast into me, he slid in inch by inch, filling me until there was no
room left. “This,” he growled, his hand sliding up to clench mine. “This is
what we are all about.”

“I love you,” I sobbed, wrapping my legs around his waist. “Please.”

He hooked one leg over his arm and slid out, only to drive into me again and
cause another orgasm. I gasped as he did it repeatedly, his body slapping
against mine in a rhythm that was solely Nico. He knew what I liked, where I
liked it, and when he hit my G-Spot, I swore I saw stars. “Tell me again,” he
demanded as my hips rose to meet his. “Fuck, Rory, say it.”

“I love you,” I panted, meeting him thrust for thrust. “I love you so much it
hurts.”

He roared my name as he poured into me, and I cried out, the feeling so
complete that it brought tears to my eyes.

This was what we were about and so much more.

Anthony cried out and Nico froze, glancing over at the playpen we had set up
for him to sleep in. “Fuck,” he whispered, scrambling off me. “I forgot he
was here.”

I lay there, attempting to gather myself back together as Nico tended to our
son before joining me in bed, hauling me against him. “Lost his pacifier,” he
grumbled, his hand threading into my hair.

I smiled and placed my hand over his rapidly beating heart. “I think his papa
lost something as well.”

“Minx,” he said, pinching my skin lightly.

I chuckled softly and felt the pull on my exhausted body. “That was…”

“That was everything,” he finished for me, his fingers stilling in my hair.
“Rory, you are my very fucking soul, and if something happens to you, I will
never forgive myself.”

His words sounded tortured, so I rose up on one elbow, looking at him.

“Nothing can take me away from you,” I said softly. “He can try, but we are a
pair.”

He let out a ragged sigh and pulled me down to his shoulder once more.
“Sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a hell of a day.”

That I couldn’t deny. I was almost asleep when I felt his lips on my temple,
Nico whispering the words that he hadn’t repeated but that I felt in everything
he did.
We were going to get through this.

**

The next day, I watched the city go by as the SUV took me to the Midtown
Post offices, restless to get there and get the job done. Nico had nearly not let
me go again this morning, and it had taken Vincent whispering in his ear
before he pressed a kiss to my forehead and told me to hurry back. They were
going to move Angelica to another safe house as she had torn the bedroom
apart sometime last night, and Nico feared what she would do if she were in
the same house as the boys.

True to his word, I had five guards in the SUV, all Nico’s top ones that
should be watching him and our son instead of taking me to the office. With
every car that came alongside the SUV, I tensed, knowing that it could be
Carmine opening fire on me and ending my life.

Blessedly, we got to the office and left two guards downstairs, while the other
three accompanied me upstairs. I stopped them at Harper’s door. “I really
don’t think that anyone is going to swing in through the window,” I said,
pointing at the barred window that overlooked the alley. “I won’t be long.”

“Yes, Mrs. D’Agostino,” the guard stated with a nod. “We will just patrol the
office floor.”

I gave him a grateful smile and settled behind the desk, pulling out my
laptop. I debated about shutting the door, but they would likely freak out, and
the last thing I needed was for them to call Nico.

He had enough to worry about.

So, I delved into my work, proofreading the article and making a few changes
so that it would all run together nicely. Harper would be proud of what I was
about to do because this was as much about freeing Angelica as it was
avenging his death. He had died trying to help me, and I wanted to take
Carmine down for him.
The monster didn’t deserve to live, and I was going to show him that not
everyone was scared of him.

Hitting send, I leaned back in the chair, watching as the article made its way
to the printer. Tomorrow, every Post paper would state what Carmine had
done to the Griffin family and to poor Angelica. They would know that she
had suffered, and I could just about bet that Carmine would have some
particularly important visitors by the end of the week. There was no way the
feds would be able to ignore this article.

A shadow crossed the doorway and I looked up, my smile fading as I saw an
unfamiliar man standing there. “Who are you?” I asked, rising out of the
chair slowly. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention as he pulled
out a gun, resting it against his thigh.

This wasn’t a guard. “I need for you to come with me willingly, Mrs.
D’Agostino,” he stated, his voice deep. There was a murderous glint about
him, and desperately I tried to think my way out of this. There was nothing in
the office I could use as a weapon unless I wanted to throw my laptop at him,
having cleaned out most of Harper’s things the last time I had been in here.

I couldn’t go through the window, and about the only thing I could do was
scream for help, though deep down I knew no one was going to come for me.
“The don would like to have a word with you,” he continued, stepping inside
the office. “And I have strict instructions to ensure that you come with me.
We can either do this the easy way or the hard way.”

I lifted my chin. “Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?”

His lips lifted into a half grin. “He said you were feisty. Would you like to
test me, Rory?”

I really didn’t. He was a foot taller than me and weighed three times as much.
“You can’t stop the article,” I blurted out. “It’s already gone.” The printers
were digital, and Harper hadn’t been an idiot to keep them all in one place.
After all, we weren’t known for making any friends with the paper.
There was a warehouse Harper had showed me once, one in Jersey, that held
a bank of printers that he would send the controversial articles to, which was
where I had sent mine today.

The man held out his hand, and in it was a pair of zip ties. “What’s your
choice, Rory?”

I swallowed, wishing I had listened to Nico. He was going to be so upset

when he found out what happened to me and would probably hate me for
talking him into letting me come today. He was going to blame himself, and
it was completely my fault for not taking this seriously. “I’m afraid,” I
started, rounding the desk. “That I have to fight at least.”

“That’s what I was hoping you would say,” he grinned, placing the zip ties in
his pocket and motioning me forward. “Come on then. Show me what you
got.”

I had nothing, but I charged him anyway, kicking and clawing as his large
arm wrapped around my waist and he had me against the wall, wrenching it
painfully behind my back. “Nice try,” he whispered into my ear. “No wonder
D’Agostino admires you so much. You’re quite the surprise, Rory.”

I cried out as he pulled my arm tight and fought him until he could get the
other behind my back, securing the zip ties. “Night night,” he replied before
pain exploded in my head and there was nothing else.
 Chapter 16
Nico

I paced the living room floor, glancing every so often at my son, who was
tracking my every movement with his eyes. Rory had only been gone three
hours, but already the anxiousness of letting her go was starting to eat away
at me. She had been right last night; someone needed to protect Anthony, but
now I wished I had entrusted him to my sister or her best friend and
accompanied her myself.

Now all I could do was wait for word that they were on their way back from
the city.

My cell rang, and I answered it immediately. “Yeah.”

“Angelica is secure,” Vincent replied, heaviness in his voice. “She didn’t say
anything on the ride over. No issues.”

“Good,” I stated, clenching my jaw. I didn’t know what made her go off her
rocker like that, but it could have been a number of things, really. We had
moved her out of what she had come to know as a safe place, but after what I
saw this morning, I couldn’t trust her to be near the boys. I didn’t know what
her mental state was presently, and she could decide to end not only her life
but that of her son or mine.

I couldn’t take the chance, and the safest thing to do was to separate her from
the group until we could figure it out. Hell, I didn’t know what I would do
with her after this was all over and if we all survived. Rory had let me listen
to her tape, and I had felt the sweet hell she had, transporting me back to that
night that had changed my life forever.

Angelica had gotten the raw end of the deal, but she didn’t blame me. I didn’t
know how I felt about that. I was just as guilty as the rest. I should have
fought hard to protect her, pushed my father until he had given up on doing
what he had done to her, and afterward, tried to find her, knowing he wasn’t
one to just kill a pawn before it suffered.
I should have done all those things and more, yet I hadn’t, and for that, I
would never forgive myself.

Now we had her and Lorenzo to worry about, to figure out what to do with
them for the future. “How many guards did you leave?”

“Three,” Vincent replied. “Three of what I have left anyway. I can stay.”

“No,” I growled. “I need you here.” When Rory got back, we were going to
move again. I didn’t trust that my father couldn’t find me, and the attack on
the penthouse had been far worse than I had let on to Rory. She thought that
only a few guards had been killed, but I had actually lost six fucking men,
good ones at that, picked off like they had been sleeping on the job. My
father was sending me a message that he was coming for my family, and I
couldn’t let that happen.

Which was why I shouldn’t have let Rory go today. Something was gnawing
at my insides, my concern for my wife and her safety starting to take over
any rational thought. If it weren’t for the fact that Vincent wasn’t here to
protect my son, I would already be speeding toward the city myself.

But I had made a promise to my wife, and I wasn’t going to go back on my

promise. “I’ll be there soon,” Vincent said before ending the call.

I threw the phone on the table and thrust a hand through my hair roughly. The
guards had checked in thirty minutes ago, and everything was fine. Rory had
been in her office, and there was no sign of a threat.

I had to believe that.

What I couldn’t fucking believe was that my wife was the owner of a fucking
paper. I was so proud of her, and while I knew she would rather have Harper
back from the dead than be the owner, it spoke volumes as to what he had
thought about Rory for him to gift her his pride and joy. While we hadn’t
talked about the future and whether she was going to continue on, I wanted
her to. She loved to write. It was her passion, and like my sister had told me
once, Rory was damn good at it. I wasn’t a man to hold her back, unless, of
course, her life was in fucking danger.

I didn’t think that Rory understood me last night when I had told her that she
was my soul. I was acutely aware of everything about her, from the way she
held her lips when she was thinking about something to the laugh that told
me she was actually enjoying herself. I heard every breath she took when she
slept, and last night, I had held her as tightly as I could without her freaking
out about it, scared to death that it was going to be one of the last times I did
so. This war was coming to a head, and soon I would have to fight my father
myself. He wasn’t going to stop unless I killed him, and if this article shit fell
through, I would have to go after him.

There was a good chance I wouldn’t make it, but it would be a cold day in
hell that he would.

Anthony made a noise and I walked over, picking him up out of the playpen.
God, he looked like me, but there were signs of Rory in him as well. I never
thought I wanted to be a father, but holding my son like this was a feeling I
couldn’t describe.

I had almost missed it. I had been so wrapped up in what my father had been
doing, how I wanted to destroy him, that I had nearly given up my entire life
to the rage.

Rory had saved me. That chance encounter at the party, her smile on mine,
that was what had saved me, and I would live for that smile every single
fucking day of my life. I didn’t give a shit about the Mafia or the fact that if
my father died, I would be in charge. I never wanted to be. I wanted it to all
go away, and now I had more of a reason than ever to ensure that the
D’Agostino Mafia didn’t rise out of the ashes once we were able to put my
father away.

When I was able to do so. “Where is your momma, huh?” I asked my son,
pressing my lips to his temple and praying that I would get a call soon.
Anthony was the best part of me, but Rory was what I lived for. She was
more than my wife. I had treated her like shit the first few months of our
marriage because I didn’t know what I had before me, but now, now I knew
that she was everything in my life. Rory calmed the monster inside me, and if
wasn’t for the fact that I was in the midst of a war with my father, I would put
my guns down forever.

Sure, they would call me names, tell me I was a coward, but there were more
important things in my life, namely one that I held in my arms. I didn’t want
my son to grow up like I did, though he wouldn’t, given who his mom was.
Anthony was going to know that I loved him and that anything he did, I
would support. My father had one thing in mind when I was born, and when
he realized I was nothing like him, he had cast me aside, hoping for a
stronger son that he could mold into a monster.

There had been no more children for him, not legitimately, and he knew that
the Mafia wouldn’t accept just anyone.

Hence the farce with Lorenzo, in hopes that he would be viewed as being
mine.

Now my father had nothing. I had both Lorenzo and Angelica. Elias was
fucking dead, and Carmine couldn’t touch my family or me. I would die first.

I was starting to get to him, hence the reason he had attacked the penthouse.
His move was like a toddler that had thrown his toy because he couldn’t get
his way, and I knew that I was on the verge of ruining him.

I just had to hang on a little longer and keep my family safe in the process.

Drawing in a breath, I placed Anthony back in his playpen and picked up my

cell, finding no notifications from the guard that had gone with my wife. We
were all using burner phones for now, Rory having left without one so that
her guard could do the check-ins.

Fuck me, this was torture, and I hated it. I wanted to know. I hated being in
the dark about anything.

Vincent arrived shortly after, arching a brow. “Are you okay, boss?”
“Fuck, no,” I breathed, grabbing at my hair. “Shouldn’t they have checked in
by now?”

Vincent frowned, looking at his watch. “You haven’t heard anything?”

I shook my head no, and he pulled out the burner phone he was carrying,
looking for the number that Rory’s guard carried. Dialing the number, he
held the phone up to his ear. I watched as he gave a thumbs-up when
someone picked up the line. “Status?”

But his thumbs-up quickly was replaced with concern on his face. “Who the
fuck is this?”

“What?” I asked, rising from the couch. “What is it?”

Vincent’s jaw clenched, and he held out the cell. “It’s—fuck, it’s your
father.”

All the blood drained out of my face as I snatched the phone out of his hand.
“Nicolas,” he greeted, sounding ominously cheery. “You ran from me.”

“What do you want?” I said instead, not falling for his tricks. If he had a
burner phone, then there was something wrong, something I didn’t even want
to consider, but deep down, I already knew.

My father tsked into the phone. “Here I am trying to carry on a conversation

with my son, and all he wants is for me to get the point. Fine. I have your
wife.”

I closed my eyes, my worst fears coming true. He had Rory.

“You know I tried to warn her,” he continued as I fell to fucking pieces on

the inside. “I tried to tell her to keep her nose out of my shit, but she
couldn’t.” He chuckled. “The funny thing is, I like her. She’s a hell of a
woman, Nicolas.”
I swallowed the bile that rose in the back of my throat. “What do you want?”
I asked hoarsely.

“Want?” he repeated. “I want you to come say goodbye to your wife, son.
I’m going to do all the things I talked about back during our little visit. She
crossed a line, and she must be punished.”

“Take me,” I said desperately. “You want me, don’t you? You want to kill
me, right? Take me instead.” Vincent was crossing the room, his expression
murderous, but I didn’t give a shit. Rory didn’t deserve to be in the crosshairs
of my father’s rage. He had wanted me all along, and I had pulled her into
this shit.

“You see,” my father replied. “I would take you up on that offer, but it seems
that your wife means more to you than I had first thought. So no, Nicolas, I
won’t trade Rory for you. However, I will let you say goodbye. I’m sure you
would like to see Rory before I tear her apart.”

It wasn’t going to fucking happen. I wasn’t going to let my father have her.
She wouldn’t survive him, no matter how strong she was. “Where?”

He rattled off an address of a warehouse near the Hudson River. “I know you
are away from the city, so I will give you all the time you need to get here,
but don’t push me too far, Nicolas. I’m being far too generous already.”

“Give me your word she won’t be hurt,” I demanded. “Your word.”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed. “You have it, but don’t delay me too long. I would
hate to hurt them both.”

He clicked off before I could register his last word, throwing the phone to
Vincent. “Check in with Angelica’s guards.”

“They were fine,” he began.

“I said check in,” I growled, cutting him off. My father always had a backup
plan, and since the boys were with me, there would be only one other person
that he would be interested in having in his grasp.

I watched as Vincent let the phone ring at least ten times. “They aren’t
answering,” he said in a low voice.

“They aren’t going to,” I sighed. “He’s got Rory and Angelica.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

I rounded on him. “Fuck, yes, I do! He has my wife, and he’s going to kill her
and Angelica both! He’s baiting me, getting me there so that he can tie up
loose ends.”

Vincent’s jaw worked. “What is the plan?”

Hell, I didn’t know, but as I gazed at my sleeping son in the playpen, I knew I
couldn’t watch his mother die at the hands of my father. She deserved better.
“Round up the guards we have left. We are going to my father.” He still
wanted me dead. I was 100 percent sure of that.

But I wasn’t going to let him take Angelica or Rory down with me. If he
killed me on sight, then they were as good as dead, but if we could get the
upper hand on the guards that I was sure would be surrounding the
warehouse, we stood a chance. My father hated to be backed into a corner, to
feel like he was losing control, and that was the very fucking thing I needed
to make sure happened.

“We will get her out,” Vincent said softly as I leaned down and kissed
Anthony’s forehead, in case I didn’t survive the end of this war. I had this
happiness in my grasp, everything I thought I didn’t need right here, and it
was about to be ripped away. Fuck. I had so many regrets with Rory, so many
things I wanted to do with her, show her, provide for her and our son.

I doubted I would get the chance now.

Straightening, I forced myself to turn away and reach for my coat that was
sitting on the back of the chair. “I want to leave in ten minutes.”
“Yes, don,” Vincent replied, moving from the room to make sure it
happened. I drew in a breath, adjusting my cuffs as I thought about all the
ways I wanted to kill my father.

One of us wasn’t making it out alive.

 Chapter 17
Rory

I wiggled at the zip ties that were cutting into my wrists, biting on the rag
stuffed into my mouth to mask the scream that I really wanted to let out.
When I had come to, I was no longer in the office, but in a small room with
Angelica, who was still out next to me, her chin pressed against her chest.

It seemed that Carmine had found her even though Nico had ordered her to
be moved this morning, and since she was here, that meant everyone else
could possibly be dead.

My eyes burned with tears as I thought about the guards that had
accompanied me, how Vincent—oh dear god, Vincent—had taken Angelica
to the other safe house himself.

And what about Nico?

And Anthony?

And Lorenzo?

I refused to believe that they were harmed. I would know it, feel it in my
chest that they were gone. Besides, I didn’t need to think that way. I needed
to focus on getting out of here, getting both of us out of here, though by the
looks of it, Angelica wasn’t going to be much help.

Taking a breath, I looked around the room for something to cut my zip ties. If
I could free my hands, then I could easily tackle the zip tie around my feet
and exit the door before me.

It was a great plan, if I could execute it. One thing was for certain; I had to
get out of here before Carmine came in. I had two theories that he was going
to play out for me. Either he was going to do all those horrible things he had
mentioned when we were on Long Island, or I was bait for Nico.
Honestly, I hoped that it was the first one because I didn’t need Anthony
losing both his parents on the same day.

I also knew that Carmine would want to tout the fact that he had me to his
son, which in turn would make Nico come after me, and there was my likely
second theory in motion.

The first one still wasn’t out, though. Once he succeeded in finally killing his
son, who knew what Carmine would do to Angelica and me afterward, but I
doubted it was anything good.

Maybe I could get these zip ties off and hide Angelica and myself among the
other things in the room. There was a table that could easily be flipped over
for hiding, as well as a stack of what looked like burlap bags that could be
stacked over us.

Then the guard, whoever came in, would think that we escaped through the
window and would leave the door open so that we could truly escape. I had
no idea what was on the other side of that door, but given the heavy smell of
the river in the air, my guess was that we were in a warehouse.

I could do this. I had too much to live for, and I wasn’t going to go out like
this, nor was I going to let Nico sacrifice himself to save me.

We belonged together.

Working the rag with my tongue, I succeeded in getting it out of my mouth,

my tongue dry. “Angelica,” I said urgently, nudging her with my shoulder.
“Wake up.”

The young woman moaned, her eyes fluttering open a moment later. Her
wide, panicked eyes found mine, and I tried to portray some sort of calm
demeanor. “It’s okay. You are okay.” I mean, I didn’t know what else to say
really. I was already lying to her. “We are going to get out of here, but we
have to work together in order to do so. Can you help me?”

At first it didn’t look like my words were getting through to her. She
screamed into the rag, her hands struggling to get free from the ties, and I
sighed inwardly. “Angelica, you are hurting yourself,” I tried again, my voice
firmer this go round. “I need for you to calm down and listen to me.”

Something must have clicked because she quit screaming at least. “Your
hands are tied,” I told her. “We have to cut the tie. You aren’t going to be
able to pull them loose.”

She quit struggling then, and I gave her an encouraging nod. “See if you can
use your tongue to push the cloth out. It’s not tied tightly.”

After a few motions, she was able to free her mouth, taking several deep
breaths in the process. “Where are we?” she whispered, looking around.
“Who did this?”

“I really wish I had answers for you,” I said, deciding to keep the fact that I
knew that Carmine was behind this all to myself for now. I didn’t know how
she would react, and the last thing I needed was her freaking out again.
“What do you remember?”

“I was in the living room of the new cabin,” she said after a moment.
“Removing my shoes. I don’t remember anything after that.”

She hadn’t seen her attacker like I had. Maybe it was a blessing, given
everything she had gone through. “We need to find something to cut these,” I
replied instead, showing her my hands. “Something sharp.”

Before she could answer, the door opened, and in walked Carmine, a grin
splitting his face. Angelica immediately started to scoot back against the wall,
her breathing ragged. “Well, well,” he said, rubbing his hands together.
“What do we have here?”

“No, no!” Angelica screamed, shaking her head wildly. “Get away! Please
get away!”

Carmine glanced over Angelica before he looked at me. “You’re a pain in my

ass, Rory,” he told me, shaking his head. “I thought we had a nice long
discussion the first time about what you weren’t going to do.”

How he could ignore the screaming woman beside me was pretty impressive.
My head was ringing from her screams already. “Do whatever you want. I’ve
already ruined you.”

To my surprise, he chuckled. “You have no idea how many times over this
past year I thought about you and how you should have been my child rather
than my daughter-in-law. You have more balls than both my children
combined, and I’m impressed, Rory. It takes a lot to impress me.”

“I don’t care about how fucking impressed you are,” I spat out, wishing my
feet weren’t tied so I could stand in front of him, face-to-face. “You are going
to prison if you don’t die.”

Carmine arched a brow. “How? Oh, you are expecting your husband to show
up, aren’t you?”

God, I hoped not. I didn’t want him to have a clear shot at Nico like this.
“You are baiting him.”

“Of course, I am,” the Mafia don smirked. “What better way to kill the other
pain in my ass than to lure him here for his precious wife? You know, I’m
amazed at how much he loves you. You see, we D’Agostinos aren’t known
for our softer side, and no matter how many times I tried to beat it out of
Nicolas, he always retained a piece of it.” Carmine frowned. “It was his bitch
of a mother that caused that, of course, and that is what will be his downfall.”

He turned his attention to Angelica, whose screams had subsided to sobs,

tears streaking her face. “And you. All you had to do was stay fucking quiet.
I gave you everything.”

“You gave her nothing!” I yelled as he walked over and grabbed Angelica by
the hair.

Angelica screamed again, clawing at his hand, but he was far stronger,
pulling her up from the floor by her hair. The rock that was already in the pit
of my stomach grew as I watched Carmine throw her against the opposite
wall.

He was on her again in an instant, putting his face right near hers. “Tell her
what she doesn’t know. Tell her how I fucking ruled over this Mafia, gave it
the name that it needed. And nothing, not even a bitch like you, will be able
to take me down! Tell her!”

“It’s okay,” I said instead, straining against my ties. “It’s going to be okay,
Angelica. Look at me. Keep your eyes on me.”

Angelica didn’t even glance in my direction, the defeated look on her face
worrying me even more. In Carmine she saw everything she had lost, the
monster under the bed that she could never grow out of. “Please,” I begged.

Carmine pulled out a gun, and I froze as he slid it over Angelica’s cheek.
“Why don’t you beg me?” he said softly, yanking her head back. “Beg, and I
might let you live.”

A single tear rolled down Angelica’s cheek, and I started to rock my body,
trying desperately to get onto my feet. “Don’t do this. She’s suffered enough,
you bastard!”

His eyes slid over to mine. “She knew the rules, and she broke them. Now
it’s time that she pays for it.”

Before I could utter another word, he placed the barrel of the gun under her
chin and pulled the trigger, the sound blasting through the room and rattling
around in my head. I heard someone scream in the distance and realized it
was me as Angelica’s body crumpled to the floor, no longer in any sort of
pain.

He had killed her. He had killed Angelica.

Carmine calmly took out a clean handkerchief and wiped his face, smearing
the blood that had collected on his skin. “That is unfortunate,” he said,
throwing the handkerchief on her prone body. “She really had great
potential.”

“You monster!” I screamed, struggling against my bonds as he started my

way. “You killed her!”

“Rory, Rory,” he tsked, grabbing my arm roughly and hauling me to my feet.

This close, I could see the murderous glint in his eyes, the flecks of blood
from Angelica on his face. “I promised your husband I would wait to kill you
until he gets here, but you are trying my fucking patience.”

I spit in his face and he backhanded me, pain exploding on my left cheek and
my already aching head spinning horribly. I fell to the ground and threw up
immediately, emptying the contents of my stomach on the concrete floor.

“See what you made me do?” he taunted, tapping his gun on his leg. “I didn’t
want to hit you, not yet, but now that I have had a taste, I know the rest of
what I am going to do to you is going to feel fucking great.”

“You might torture me,” I shot back, tasting the bile on my tongue. “But you
are through, Carmine.”

He chuckled. “You are talking about your little article. There are ways to
make things disappear, Rory, ways to make people turn a blind eye, and
fortunately I have a lot of fucking money to ensure that they do.” His gaze
narrowed. “You think you are so clever, but you’ve gone up against the
wrong fucking man this time. I’m going to ruin you and everyone that you
care about, starting with that husband of yours, followed by your child. What
do you think about that, Rory?”

I gritted my teeth against the next wave of nausea that hit me. “You touch my
son, and I will kill you myself.”

Carmine cocked his head to the side. “Fuck, you are pretty bloodthirsty.
Maybe I will keep you around longer than intended and put you to work,
Rory. Would you like that? Would you like to learn how to kill like your
husband did?”
I didn’t get to answer his question. There was a commotion in the distance
before there was a flurry of motion at the door and someone burst through the
room. Carmine whirled around, the sound of the bullets firing in rapid
succession exploding near my ears. The shape fell to the ground with a
sickening thud before others started to fill the room, some I recognized as
Nico’s men.

No.

Carmine was already on the move, throwing a piece of lumber at the window
to my right, shattering the glass before leaping through it to dodge the bullets
from the guards. Glass rained down on me, but I didn’t care.

That was my husband in the rapidly growing puddle of blood. “Help!” I

screamed, tears clogging my throat. I couldn’t lose him like this! I couldn’t
live if he died. “Please! He’s dying!”
 Chapter 18
Rory

I watched as the guards realized that their leader was down the moment that
Vincent crashed through the door, his face growing pale as he realized the
same. “Fuck, no,” I heard him breathe before he fell to his knees, ripping
open the silk shirt that Nico always favored.

“Tell me he’s alive!” I screamed at him, feeling completely helpless at not

being able to reach my husband. He could be dying.

Vincent’s jaw clenched as he glanced over at me. “Get her untied now.”

One of the guards did as he asked, and the moment the zip ties were freed, I
rushed to Nico’s side, breathing heavily as I realized he was wearing a vest.
“Where’s the blood coming from?” I asked in a panic, my hands shaking.
“Vincent.”

“I know, I know,” he stated, removing the vest. “It barely stopped the
bullets.”

“We have to get him to the hospital,” I urged as the three small holes
precariously near Nico’s heart oozed rivers of blood. Reaching for his neck, I
hung my head as I found the thready pulse under my fingers. “He has a
pulse.”

“Help me get him up,” Vincent growled at the guards, motioning for some of
them to help. I waited until they had him up before I touched him, taking his
hand in mine, slick with his blood.

“Please, Nico,” I begged, walking alongside them as they carried him into the
warehouse and toward an open door. “Please, you can’t leave me like this.
You can’t.”

“He’s not going to,” Vincent cut in, grabbing my shoulder before I walked
directly into the wood wall near the door.
Nico’s hand slipped through mine, and I watched as he was carried out to a
waiting SUV. “I have to go,” I said, trying to move toward it.

Vincent’s hand tightened on my shoulder as the SUV roared out of the

parking lot, and he spun me around. “Rory, listen to me. I will get you there.”

I looked up at Nico’s most trusted guard and threw my arms around him,
crying into his shirt. “He can’t die!”

Vincent surprised me by putting his arms around me. “He’s not going to.
He’s not going to want to leave you and Anthony. You have to be strong.”

I knew I had to, but it was hard, given the state that my husband was in when
he was carried out. “We have to go,” I stated, pulling away from Vincent.
“We have to be there in case.”

He didn’t answer but steered me toward the other SUV that was waiting,
letting me climb into the back seat. He climbed in as well, and it took off as I
wrapped my arms around my waist. “Angelica is dead,” I said numbly,
thinking about how Carmine had just killed her so viciously and with so
much malice.

“I saw that,” Vincent grunted. “We will take care of it.”

Tears leaked from my eyes as I watched the city fly past the window. “He
didn’t have to kill her. It’s my fault that she was interviewed for the article.”

“She didn’t have to, remember?” Vincent reminded me, his voice gentle.
“She hadn’t fucking spoken before then. She could have just ignored you
too.”

He was right. Angelica hadn’t spoken to anyone before she opened up to me,
and I had prodded her to do so. Still, she wouldn’t have even been in that
room if I hadn’t printed that article, taunting the Mafia don.

Carmine. “He got away,” I rushed out, looking at Vincent. “You should be
going after him.”

“We have men on it,” Vincent replied. “My main priority is ensuring your
safety.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up his hand. “Boss’ orders. And if
you would like to know, the boys are safe. No one is touching them.”

My body sagged against the seat, guilt eating me up inside about a lot of
things, namely Nico’s injuries and Angelica’s death. There was one
consolation, if one could be found, that she was with her family now, but a
little boy was without his mom. No matter what had happened to Angelica,
she had still been Lorenzo’s mom, and he wasn’t going to see her again.

Vincent and I fell silent the rest of the way to the hospital, and I knew he was
just as worried as I was about Nico. “Here,” he said gruffly, handing me a
mask as the SUV pulled up. “You are going to need that if you want to go
in.”

I reluctantly slipped it over my ears as the door opened, and somehow I got
my legs to carry me to the entrance, Vincent close to my side. I knew I must
have looked a fright to those that we passed, with blood on my hands and a
haunted look on my face.

I didn’t care, however. I just wanted to see my husband.

Vincent helped me get to the front desk of the emergency room, and the
woman there gave us a wide-eyed stare. “May I help you?”

“My husband was just brought in,” I forced out, my voice cracking. “He was
shot.”

She looked at the computer in front of her. “Oh yes. The John Doe that was
dropped off. He’s in surgery.”

My knees buckled, and I would have fallen if Vincent hadn’t been there to
catch me. “Surgery?”
She nodded, giving me a once-over. “You need to be checked out, too,
sweetheart. You look a sight.”

“Why don’t you do that?” Vincent suggested, gripping my elbow to keep me

upright.

“I’m fine,” I mumbled. “Is there somewhere I can use the restroom?”

The woman nodded, reaching behind the desk. “We keep these on hand at all
times,” she said, her voice softer now as she handed me a set of blue scrubs.
“Why don’t you go get cleaned up and change? I will show you where you
can wait.”

Tears crowded my eyes, and I was unable to form the thank you I wanted to
tell her, taking the bundle instead and walking to the restroom somehow. “I
will be right here,” Vincent told me as I pushed open the door. “I’m not going
anywhere, Rory.”

I didn’t answer, locking it behind me so I could slide down, not caring that I
was sitting on a dirty bathroom floor in a hospital, with the pandemic still
raging on. My heart couldn’t stop hurting over what had happened today, my
anxiety creeping up at what sort of injuries Nico had that would have
warranted surgery, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to help.
He had always been the stronger of us, the one who knew what to do
immediately.

Now I was on my own.

The first tear slid down my cheek, then the next, until I was sobbing in my
arms, heedless of the blood that covered them. I cried for Angelica, for how
she in her last moments had looked like she had completely given up. Was
death the better alternative for her? I wasn’t sure, but she clearly thought so,
and it hurt my heart to think she had gotten to that point.

I cried for Nico, for how he had come to save me and now was clinging to his
life, all because I had once again decided to take on a foe that I couldn’t
control. Because of me, Nico was likely coming to trade himself for me, and
there was little doubt that his father would have killed him in front of me
before doing the same to me.

This was all my fault.

I cried for our son, who was too young to know what was going on or the
family dynamics that he was growing up in. What if the men that Vincent had
put on Carmine couldn’t find him? What if Carmine did go after Anthony
now that he had killed or thought he killed Nico?

What if the danger wasn’t over at all?

And poor Lorenzo. He hadn’t had a normal life since he was born, and right
now, I couldn’t offer him anything else. His mom was dead and so was his
father.

I don’t know how long I sat on that floor, crying, but the gentle knock on the
door roused me out of it and forced me to stand on shaky legs, shedding my
bloodstained clothes and scrubbing the blood off my face and arms before
donning the scrubs. My jaw was blooming with a bruise already, and the
woman that stared back at me in the mirror was unrecognizable.

I couldn’t lose Nico. I couldn’t face another day without him. “Please,” I
whispered as the knocking grew a little louder. “Please don’t take my
husband. I know he’s not perfect by any means, and I have no reason to ask
you to spare his life other than I love him.” I didn’t know if prayer worked,
but it wasn’t going to hurt. “Please.” There was no way that I had been given
Nico to have it end like this, to have my heart ripped out of my chest and
plunge me into a darkness I didn’t know if I could get out of.

I needed Nico, and he needed me.

“Rory?”

Wiping my face of the fresh tears that had fallen, I gathered up my clothing
and dumped it in the trash before unlocking the door, finding an anxious
Vincent standing on the other side. “Are you all right?” he asked.

I let out a hollow laugh. “No, I’m not all right.”

I wasn’t sure when I would be again.

 Chapter 19
Rory

I sat in the chair next to Vincent, my arms wrapped around my waist and the
coffee sitting cold on the table before me. It had been two hours since the last
update; Nico was still in surgery, and everything was going as expected.

I didn’t know what “as expected” truly meant, but he wasn’t dead, and that
was all that mattered. No one was telling us what had exactly happened to
warrant surgery, and I hadn’t bothered to ask Vincent what had gone wrong
in their plan.

The vest should have stopped the bullets, and all Nico would have was some
bruised ribs. “What was the plan?” I found myself asking.

Vincent let out a heavy breath. “He said that he had to go in. I tried to talk
him out of it, telling him it was nothing but a trap, but Nico knew that. He
said that there would be no other reason his father wanted to take you but to
draw him out. I talked him into putting the vest on. I knew Carmine was
likely going to take the opportunity to shoot first.” A small hint of a smile
crossed his face before it was gone. “He told me that you would kill him
yourself if you knew that he went in without protection.”

I gave him a little smile. “That’s true. Why didn’t it work?”

“That’s what I have been trying to figure out,” he replied, raking a hand
through his hair. “Maybe he was too close? Maybe the type of bullets
Carmine was using? I don’t fucking know, but if I had known—”

“You wouldn’t have been able to stop him,” I interrupted. “It’s Nico.”

Vincent sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked over at me. “You should
have seen him when he found out, Rory. I thought he was going to lose it.”

I bit my lip against the new onslaught of tears that threatened. I couldn’t even
begin to imagine what he must have gone through, knowing that he was
going to have to leave our son to come rescue me and would likely die trying.

“Where is he?”

I looked up to see Leda in the doorway, her tear-stained gaze on mine.

“Where is my brother?”

I stood, and we met somewhere in the middle, throwing our arms around each
other. “He’s in surgery,” I forced out as she sobbed against my shoulder.
“He’s doing fine.”

“This shouldn’t have happened!” she wailed as I rubbed her back. “He should
have left a long time ago, dropped this war with our father!”

I couldn’t have agreed more. This had gone on far too long, and while Nico’s
revenge had been one of the reasons we had come together that night, I would
have rather him not let the anger get the best of him. It had been fueled by
hate, hate of what his father had made him do and the lies he had fed Nico
over the years in thinking he had a hidden son. “It’s all in the past,” I told her,
choking on the words. “Nico needs for us to focus on him.”

She pulled back, wiping her eyes. “Of course he does. He’s my brother and I
can’t lose him. I can’t.” Leda dissolved into tears once more and I led her to
the chair, forcing her to sit. “Neither can I,” I told her, clenching her hand in
mine. “And we aren’t going to lose him. I won’t let it happen.”

Leda leaned her head on my shoulder, and we sat there, our hands clenched
together as I gave up another silent prayer for the hundredth time since Nico
was shot. I didn’t know if they were working, but he was still alive presently,
and I wasn’t going to give up until proven otherwise.

It wasn’t long after Leda arrived that Emilia burst through the door, and my
tears started all over again as she asked what happened and examined my
bruise. “Good God, Rory,” she whispered, tears sparkling in her eyes. “What
can I do?”

“Sit?” I asked, my body shaking. “Wait with me?”

Emilia nodded, and Vincent moved over so that Leda could be on one side
and Emilia on the other, our hands clenched together. Every once in a while
Leda would let out a sob, but I stayed largely stoic, not sure if there were any
tears left for me.

Finally, a man in a lab coat and surgical scrubs came in and we all stood, my
heart hammering in my chest. “He’s out of surgery,” he stated. “A bullet
lodged in his lung, so I had to get it out. Another nicked a small artery, which
was where the bleeding was coming from. Somehow they all missed his
heart. I can’t tell you how extremely lucky your husband is at the moment.”

“How is he?” I asked anxiously.

“He’s stable,” the surgeon said tiredly. “Vitals look good, and I’ve got him
still on the ventilator just as a precaution. He needs some time to heal, but I
imagine we will be pulling the tube tomorrow morning.” He eyed Vincent.
“You are more than welcome to see him, but please don’t get him stirred up.
The next few hours are critical to his survival.”

“Go on,” Leda said when I looked at her. “You need to see him first.”

I did, desperately. The surgeon led me back to the intensive care unit, where
all I saw were machines and constant beeping filled the air. “He’s in here,” he
said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” I tumbled out before stepping into the cold room. Here there
were more machines and beeping, but my eyes were on the man in the bed,
his chest swaddled by bandages. The tube was still hanging out of his mouth,
the machine helping him breathe, but the steady heart rate on the monitor
next to the bed was all that I needed to see.

Nico was alive.

Cautiously, I made my way over to the bedside and touched his hand, finding
it cool to the touch. “I’m here, my love,” I told him, stroking the back of his
hand. “I’m here. I need for you to come back to Anthony and me. We can’t
live without you. Your sister needs you. Vincent needs you. You are our rock
and—” I couldn’t go on, my throat closing against the emotion. I wanted to
tell him how I felt, how he was my heart, but those words just sounded so
trivial compared to what I truly felt about Nico.

So, I leaned in and brushed my lips over his forehead, the only place that
didn’t have a tube sticking out of it. “Come back to me,” I whispered against
his skin. “Come back to me, Nico.”

**

The next day, Leda and I both visited his bedside, glad to see that they had
removed the tube. The nurse explained to us that he was breathing just fine,
and the meds they had him on while he was on the machine were taking their
time wearing off, which was why his eyes weren’t open. “He can hear you
just fine,” she said, patting my arm. “Maybe you can get him to open them.”

I walked to the bedside and placed my hand on his forehead, smoothing his
hair back lightly. He had been given a bath recently and smelled like baby
soap that I used on Anthony.

“He would hate to know that they bathed him,” Leda murmured as she
touched her brother’s hand on the other side of the bed. “He’s not one to let
anyone do that.”

I held back my smile, thinking of all the times I had bathed him. “You’re
right.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Leda continued. “Our father shot his own
son. What kind of monster does something like that, Rory? Why?”

“Maybe he’s jealous that his son is a heck of a lot stronger than he could ever
be.”

“Maybe,” his sister responded, looking down at his brother. “You know,
when I was growing up, I prayed for a normal family. I wanted family
vacations and holidays and all the things that my friends had. Nico was the
only reason that I had anything remotely caring in my life, and it’s because of
him that I haven’t turned into a hateful person like my father.”

“I don’t believe that,” I replied softly. “You are caring. You are an amazing
person.”

Leda gave a little shrug. “Maybe.” She backed away from the bed. “I’m
going to get some coffee. You want some?”

“No thanks,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m good.”

She walked out as I let out a little breath, my fingers trailing over Nico’s
forehead. I wanted to see his gorgeous eyes. I wanted to hear his voice.

I wanted to know that he was okay. The surgeon had stated that he would
have a rough couple of days but was expected to make a complete recovery.

I would be there every step of the way.

“Are you done talking about me?”

I stilled my touch on Nico’s forehead as his raspy voice filled the air and his
eyes fluttered open, focusing on my face. “How long have you been awake?”
I asked, arching a brow.

He lifted his lips into a smirk. “Maybe long enough to hear my sister sing my
praises.”

A flutter in my throat appeared. “I should hit you, but then I would feel bad
about hitting an invalid.”

He rasped a laugh and then groaned, holding his abdomen. “Fuck, that hurt.”

I was finding it hard to hold back the emotions that coursed through me.
“How do you feel?”

“Like someone backed over me with a semi,” he stated. “My throat is killing
me.”

“It’s because you had a tube down it,” I answered gently, my voice cracking.
It was an image I hoped I would never see again for the rest of my life, Nico
helpless, and I unable to do anything about it other than pray.

His expression softened. “I’m sorry, Rory. I couldn’t not come for you. When
he called me, I could only think of you.”

“He nearly killed you,” I whispered, only because I didn’t trust my own
voice. “He killed Angelica.”

Nico’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“He shot her,” I said, wiping the tears away. I knew he didn’t know.
Everything had happened so quickly before he was shot, and there was no
way he could have seen her crumpled form. “It’s my fault. I should never
have pushed him that far. I caused her death.”

“Stop,” Nico said, reaching out to grip my hand. “This isn’t your fucking
fault. None of it is. You were trying to help her.”

I sucked in a breath. Didn’t he realize that everything I had done, how I had
gotten her involved, was the reason she was dead? “How can you not say that
I caused her death? Carmine went after her because of me.”

Nico arched a brow. “Did you hold the gun to her head, Rory? Did you keep
her locked away for years without a way to break free? You were trying to
give Angelica her life back. She didn’t try before then.” He cleared his throat,
and I reached for the water on the table, letting him take a few sips.
“Besides,” he said. “Carmine was coming after you either way, whether you
sent that article or not. He knew you were my one weakness I wouldn’t be
able to turn my back on. Hell, I probably would have come after Angelica as
well.”

I believed he would. Nico was that sort of person behind the persona he liked
to play up. “What about Lorenzo?” I asked instead. “What do we do now?”
“Right now,” he replied, squeezing my hand gently. “I need to get the fuck
out of here at the first opportunity, and we’ll go home.”

“That will be a few days yet,” I told him, my lips lifting into a tired smile. I
honestly didn’t even know what day it was. I hadn’t left since coming in,
staying in a room reserved for families and having Leda or Emilia bring me
clothing. With the pandemic still going on, once I left, they wouldn’t let me
back in, and nothing was going to keep me from Nico’s side. “You need to
rest and get stronger before we can start talking about going home.”

He groaned, not at all excited about the prospect. “Well then, you are going
to have to give me my baths. I want you to be extra fucking thorough.”

I smiled through my tears as I reached down and pressed my lips to his

forehead. “I love you,” I breathed, so glad that I wasn’t saying goodbye to
him. I had thought about it many times during his surgery, how I might have
to do just that, and it was going to tear me in two to do so.

“I love you,” he replied. “And when I get out of here, I’m going to show you
just how much all over again.”

My body trembled. “The doctor said it will be a while before that can
happen.”

Nico’s eyes flashed with heat. “When is the last time I’ve followed anyone’s
advice?” He patted the side of the bed, away from his affected side. “Why
aren’t you in here right now?”

I rolled my eyes, wanting nothing more than to be curled up next to him.

“Patience, my love, patience.”

His wolfish grin was so out of place for the injuries he had sustained. I mean,
honestly, he shouldn’t be thinking about that at all. “I’ll remember that,
love.”

God, I loved him.

**

Leda

I stood at the door, watching as my sister-in-law and brother kissed gently.

There had been many times in my life that I had been scared. I was a
D’Agostino, after all, my father a Mafia don, but the panic I felt when
Vincent had called and told me that Nico had been shot was the worst day of
my life so far. I hoped it would be the worst day ever.

I was so glad that Rory and Nico had found each other. Watching their tender
moment was like a balm to my soul, knowing that he would have someone to
take care of him but also someone who would push back when he got all
macho like he sometimes did. I hated my father for what he had done to
them, or what he had tried to do, because it looked like he had failed
miserably.

My brother loved someone, and she wasn’t just anyone. Rory was special,
and she had given me the most precious nephew in my life.

I couldn’t ask for anything else.

Sighing inwardly, I turned away from the room and walked back to the
waiting room, determined to give them some time together. Even with my
father still at large presently, I knew that I was looking for a happily-ever-
after for them.

One of us should be happy like that.

Now that all of this happened, I didn’t know what my future held.
 Chapter 20
Nico

The saga of the D’Agostino Mafia continues. After the bombshell article
posted in the Midtown Post by no other than his daughter-in-law, Rory
D’Agostino, Carmine D’Agostino is officially a person of interest in the
deaths of former hedge fund manager Steve Griffin and his wife. Sources tell
NBC 4 New York that there are also questions surrounding the sudden death
of Angelica Griffin, the daughter of Steve Griffin, who was found dead in a
warehouse last week from an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound. Sources
also say that there is an ongoing investigation at the NYPD as some of the
information now points to corruption, led by Carmine D’Agostino, within its
ranks. While the police department has yet to comment, sources state that
there will be an official statement coming in a matter of days. Stay tuned to
this channel for the most updated information as it becomes available.

I drew in a ragged breath as the reporter turned to other news, not believing
what I was seeing or hearing. There was no word if anyone had my father yet,
but clearly they were searching for him.

The best part about it was that they were looking into the corrupt cops in the
police department that had been on my father’s payroll for years, and I
imagined that he would be interested to know where they had gotten that
information from.

I might have had something to do with that.

When the feds showed up at the penthouse the day after I was discharged, I
just knew I would be arrested. After all, I was my father’s son, and no matter
how much I wanted to destroy him as well, I had been responsible for my
own mess.

It seemed, however, that my father was a bigger fish to capture, and they had
talked to me well over two hours about him, with Rory clutching my hand the
entire time. I walked them through that night that had changed my life
forever, rehashing the nightmare all over again. While it wasn’t as painful as
it had been, knowing that Angelica had forgiven me for what I had done, it
still was hard to talk about.

Rory had helped out, too, telling them about the kidnapping and Angelica’s
death, pointing her finger at Carmine and saying Angelica had not taken her
own life. Of course, it was her word against his, with the only other witness
being dead, but the feds had told her that they would look at it a little closer.

When they had left, I had held Rory close in our bed, just holding her and
thanking whoever was listening above that I had dodged a bullet so far,
giving me more time with her and my son.

One thing was for certain; I was tired of this fucking bed, even if it was mine.
Having felt no threat from my father, we were back at the penthouse, and I
was trying to help the capos figure out the next steps for the Mafia now that
their leader was gone.

They had asked me to be the don, some of them even coming forward to
apologize for jumping ship to my father so quickly after he had recovered
from the stroke. I had ignored them all, stating that I had no interest in taking
up my father’s seat.

I really didn’t. Some couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t take my birthright

now that my father was out of the picture, but that had been my plan all
along. I never wanted his position.

I just wanted to ruin him, destroy him, make him pay for the hurt he had
caused.

Now that was a reality. Thanks to my amazing, brave wife. Rory had taken
him down, done what most people wouldn’t even have the balls to do, and for
the rest of my life I was going to try to show her how much I fucking
appreciated it.

She had no idea what she had done for Leda and me.

Right now, she was irritating because she wouldn’t let me do a fucking thing.
Sure, I hurt. Hell, I had taken three bullets to the chest, barely slowed down
by the bulletproof vest I had been wearing. The lung that the bullet had been
fished out of hurt the worst, but the others didn’t feel any better either.

It was a good thing that no one was coming after me right now. I could barely
lift my right arm, much less hold a gun or fight back.

Vincent had laughed his ass off, helping me into the penthouse after I was
discharged from the hospital, declaring that I was the world’s worst patient
when it came to knowing what it meant to relax.

I hadn’t relaxed since the moment I had decided to wage war against my
father. It had been years since I had not looked over my shoulder, worried
that my father would finally decide to make good on his promises and kill
me.

Hell, I didn’t know what to do now. I was a little concerned about the future.
I had plenty of money to care for my family, my investments paying off well
enough to keep us taken care of for a long time.

Rory was likely going to want to continue at the Post, which was just fine by
me. And hell, I liked the city. I really didn’t want to move away from this
penthouse or the city itself. Besides, my business ventures rooted me here.

That is, unless Rory wanted to move. Then I would move heaven and earth to
make that happen.

Sighing, I picked at the covers with my fingers, frowning as I did so. She had
done so much over the last year that I wanted her to relax. I wanted us to
enjoy a life without worrying about my father and raise our son like we saw
fit. I wanted us to enjoy the city together, to go on fucking dates and do shit
that other couples went on. We had missed out on all that, with only brief
periods of attempting to have some normalcy in our lives.

Now it was time to reset, and I honestly couldn’t wait to do so.

The door opened, and the object of my thoughts walked in, a small smile on
her lips. She was dressed in a pair of tight-ass yoga pants and one of those
shirts that bared her shoulder, the lacy hint of what she called a bralette
teasing me. My cock rose to attention as she crossed the room, knowing that
it had been over two weeks since we had sex, and I was itching for a taste of
my wife.

“Hey,” she said as she sat on the bed next to me. “How do you feel?”

“I feel fine,” I grumbled, not telling her about the pull on my chest every time
I shifted in bed. I didn’t feel like it was that much of an issue, probably just
my body healing, but it hurt like hell.

She laughed, and my heart warmed at the sound. Rory hadn’t laughed a
whole lot in the weeks leading up to us finding Angelica and Lorenzo or the
fight with my father, and I was glad to hear her laugh again. “You are really
the worst patient ever.”

I grinned. “Is it time for my sponge bath?”

Rory rolled her eyes. “You know you can get into the actual bathtub, right?”

I stretched my arm behind my head on my unaffected side. “But the sponge

bathing is far too much fun.” Well, it hadn’t been so far, but I had a plan
today. Hell, I was suffering here, not even able to jerk myself off without fear
that my own wife would catch me.

“Fine,” she said. “Let me get your things then.”

I watched as she entered the bathroom, hoping like hell that this worked
today. At some point we had to go back to having fun in this bed, and Rory
was treating me like I was some invalid that was going to break at any
moment. I knew I had scared her. I wasn’t going to deny that. I imagined her
feeling ten times worse than what I had felt, knowing she was at the mercy of
my father.

After gathering my clothes and my bath stuff, Rory walked over to the bed. I
was already bare-chested because it was easier that way for my wounds to
heal. The loose joggers helped a great deal when Rory or Vincent helped me
to the bathroom, like I was some fucking two-year-old, but in another week, I
should be good to do it on my own.

Rory took out the rag and placed it in the water basin she had brought. “I
can’t believe we are still doing this. I think you might be taking advantage of
my generosity.”

“Never,” I told her as she wiped my face carefully. “Now I know why babies
love it so much.”

“Nico,” she laughed, dragging the rag over my neck and shoulders. “You
can’t be that dirty anyway. You just lie here.”

I arched a brow. “That’s all? What about all those calls I’ve been dealing
with?”

“How does that make you dirty?” she countered as she carefully wiped my
chest, the non-injured side.

“My fingers are especially filthy,” I replied, holding up my hand and wiggled
my fingers at her. “Typing and all.”

“Oh,” Rory said, stopping. “So, I should just clean your hands then?”

“Fuck, no,” I frowned, dropping my hand. “Continue.”

When she reached for the covers, I let her pull them back, exposing my
raging cock. “Nico,” she groaned as she saw the tent in my joggers. “What
are you doing?”

“I have no control,” I shrugged innocently. “It’s been neglected.”

Rory pulled the rag from my body and dropped it in the basin, wiping her
hands on her yoga pants. “You can’t. The doctor said.”

“I know what the doctor said,” I growled, grabbing her by the hip and pulling
her to the edge of the bed. “But he’s not here, and I don’t give a shit about
what he thinks I can’t do.”

Rory bit her lip, her eyes drifting over my injuries. “I’m fine, Rory,” I said,
my voice gentling. I knew she was worried about me, probably thinking
about what would happen if we did something that was outside of what the
doctor wanted, but I was ready for just about anything. “You can even ride
me.” Hell, just the thought of her doing so nearly caused me to come in my
pants. I fucking loved when she was on top, taking control.

“You promise to not overdo it?”

“Scout’s honor.”

Rory shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. “You weren’t a Scout.”

“Rory,” I growled. “Please.”

Her eyes widened. I knew she didn’t hear please from me often at all, which
should tell her how badly I needed her. Hell, I was willing to beg.

“All right,” she finally said, reaching for the waistband of her pants. “But if I
see anything that remotely tells me you are in pain, I’m stopping.”

That was fair, but I wasn’t going to show her anything but my aching cock.
“Fair enough.”

A faint blush stole across my wife’s cheeks as she pulled her clothing off,
standing before me naked. Even after having a kid, she looked fucking
gorgeous. Not that it would matter. I loved her regardless of what she fucking
looked like.

When she pulled my pants down, I nearly lost it at the heated look in her
eyes. God, she could slay me with just a look! “What are you waiting for?” I
asked lightly, trying to keep the strain out of my voice. “Or are you just going
to stare at it all day?”
She smirked, and it was the sexiest thing I had seen on her lately, besides her
naked body. “You sure are cheeky since you have been lying in that bed.”

I grinned, and she climbed on top of my body, her hands resting on my

abdomen as she posed herself above me. “Are you ready?” I grunted, not
wanting to push myself into her without knowing.

“Of course I am. It’s like a problem I have around you.”

Chuckling, I touched her hip. “That’s not a problem, Rory. That’s a fucking
blessing.”

Her blush deepened before she sank on my cock, both of us groaning

together. She hadn’t been lying. She was slick with wetness for me. “You
feel so good,” I groaned, using only one hand to touch her breast.

She rocked back and moaned loudly, her hands sliding up to touch her
breasts. “Yes,” I told her, urging her to touch herself. “Give me everything.”

When Rory started to move, I had to grit my teeth to hold on a bit longer and
not embarrass myself, her slick entrance clenching around my cock. It had
been far too long.

“Nico,” she gasped as I dropped my hand in between her thighs and found the
hard nub nestled there. “Oh God.”

It was my favorite sound, my name on her lips.

When she shuddered around me, I lifted my hips, unable to help it. I wanted
to participate in this too. “Come for me,” I growled, thrusting.

“Nico,” she cried out.

“Rory, fuck,” I groaned, spilling myself inside her. The force of my own
orgasm nearly tore me in two and Rory fell forward, stopping herself at the
last minute from falling on my chest like she always did.
“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said, easing her to my side. “It won’t be long.”

She sighed as she snuggled up to my side, and I pulled the blanket over her.
“I’m glad that you are feeling better.”

My fingers tangled in her hair, undoing the braid so that I could comb
through it. “It’s because of you, Rory.”

“Well,” she said, a hitch in her voice. “There’s going to be plenty of time for
you to make it up to me. In about seven short months, we are going to have
another little one.”

Her words froze the breath in my chest. “What?”

She rose up on her elbow, a smug smile on her lips. “What do you think
happens when you have all this sex?”

I cupped my hand on the back of her neck and pulled her down to my lips.
“Seriously?”

She nodded. “Is it okay? I mean, it’s a little too late to be asking that, I guess.
I—”

I cut her off in mid-sentence, hungrily catching her lips with mine. Rory was
fucking pregnant again. We were going to have another child.

I couldn’t believe it.

When she broke the kiss, her eyes were shining with tears. “Are you sure it’s
not so soon?”

“Of course not,” I said, feeling the start of tears myself. Fuck. I was going to
be a father again. “God, I love you.”

Her gaze softened. “I love you too.”

 Chapter 21
Rory

“And do you swear that your statements will be true?”

I twisted my hands together as I watched Nico nod his head, wishing that
they would let me be at least in the same room. Right now, I was having to
watch my husband behind a two-way mirror, but I guess I should be thankful
that they let me do that at least.

We were at the police station, with the FBI in both rooms, waiting to hear
Nico’s testimony on yet another one of his revelations about his father’s
crooked businesses. A week after they had come to visit the first time, they
had called again, wanting to know if Nico would be interested in turning over
the entire Mafia in exchange for clemency from anything that could be
brought against him.

Given Nico’s past, it wasn’t that hard of a decision. While I would have
wanted us to walk away, period, and have him not be seen as a traitor by
those that trusted him before, we couldn’t run.

There would never be a place that we could run that they wouldn’t come after
him, and if we wanted any sort of future with our two children, then this was
the best thing to do.

My hand rested on my stomach and I smiled, unable to help it. When I had
found out that I was pregnant again, my first thought was fear. I didn’t know
why, but I was scared to tell Nico. Having one child was one thing, but
another so quickly afterward was going to be quite the adventure.

He had taken it in stride, and since I had told him that day, I found myself
lying next to him more than I had been. Sometimes I brought Anthony into
the bed while Nico recovered, and we curled up next to each other and
watched some sort of cartoon on TV.

Other times, Anthony stayed with Tilda while Nico and I had some alone
time.

Not just for sex, mind you. We talked about a future. He wanted to stay in the
city, and since everything I had ever known and loved was in the city, I had
no objections as long as we were going to be relatively safe from this point
forward.

Given Nico’s new alliance with the feds, I hoped this was a bright future we
were looking at.

It hadn’t been my decision for him to do this. Nico had asked my opinion, but
ultimately I hadn’t been the one to make the call. I had, in fact, told Nico I
wouldn’t. I didn’t want him to feel like I was making that determination
when he didn’t believe that it would work or that he would resent me for
forcing him to do so.

No. Nico had made that decision to spill the beans, and so here we were,
starting that process. He had gotten his lawyer to look over the documents,
too, making sure that we weren’t getting screwed on the back end, and the
lawyer had declared everything was on the up and up.

So, he was going to become a lackey for the FBI.

I couldn’t be prouder. While I knew it was hard for him to break out of the
family business in this manner, he wanted this. He had told me just last night
that he wanted to start a new life here, to forget that the D’Agostino Mafia
ever existed.

Of course, we couldn’t do so until Carmine was captured, but with the bad
press the former Mafia don was having, it wasn’t going to be long before they
found him.

I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t wait to watch him be put in jail for everything he
had done, all the lives he had ruined because he was nothing more than a pure
monster.

Monsters didn’t deserve to live.

At least the feds no longer believed that Angelica killed herself. Apparently
the forensics hadn’t shown that she could do it easily, not to mention the
bullets that had been pulled out of Nico were also the same type that had
killed Angelica.

It wasn’t hard to prove that Carmine had been the killer after that.

Nico started his testimony, and I listened with bated breath as he talked about
some of his father’s associates, the feds on the other side of the glass taking
notes. I had my eyes on my husband, not at all surprised that he could look so
cool, calm, and collected.

He wasn’t worried on the outside, but I knew better. I knew he was

concerned at what kind of backlash this would cause among the other Mafias
and capos that were left. Most had bolted after the article had come out, just
dumping their sector and moving on without much notice. The feds were
after them, too, hoping to find out just who would sing against Carmine and
who wouldn’t.

I imagined that most would do so to save their own asses.

That, and the NYPD was in the process of cleaning up its mess too. I couldn’t
remember the exact number of cops that had been arrested, but it was clear
that Carmine’s reach had been deep in the police station. Every sector had
been touched, or rather cleaned out, and the ones that remained had started to
look at other Mafias that might have the same pull.

It was going to take a long time for everything to be set right again, and I
knew that it wouldn’t matter what they did or didn’t do. The corruption
would always be there. If it wasn’t the Mafia, then it was someone else.

Still, it was nice to know that my article had some good come out of it.
Angelica had given her life for those words, and I was happy that in the end, I
was able to bring her killer to justice.

Well, I hoped he would be soon.

**

My hope came a few days later in the form of a phone call. Nico and I were
sitting on the balcony, enjoying the sun and watching Anthony play in his
little gated area that we had put together. Nico’s cell rang and he grabbed it,
holding it up to his ear. “Yeah.”

I tapped my fingers to the music, watching Anthony find a ball and throw it
happily, giggling as he did so. There was no better sound, really.

“You aren’t going to believe this,” Nico said after a moment, placing his
phone on the table.

“What’s that?” I asked, hearing the catch in his voice.

“They found my father.”

After those words came out of his mouth, we rushed to get to the spot, with
SWAT and the feds allowing Nico to be there when they toted his father out.
Turned out, his father had been hiding in the city all along, choosing a house
on the Upper East Side as his hideout. “Are you sure he’s in there?” I asked
the fed, John, near me. John was in charge of ensuring we didn’t interfere,
though we called him a glorified babysitter.

“Yes,” he replied, a pair of binoculars in his hand. “It was confirmed less
than an hour ago.”

I nodded, and Nico squeezed my hand, looking every inch the calm man he
had always shown to be. I was a nervous wreck inside, worried that Carmine
might take the easy way out and either start shooting or shoot himself.

I wanted him to rot in prison, which was exactly where he would go. There
was a part of me that would like to see him dead, but that would be the easy
way out. Carmine should be locked up in some small cell in prison, where he
would lose every inch of his grandeur and be forced to live among those he
might have wronged. I wanted him to look out of the window every day and
realize he was never going to be free again, that Nico was still alive, and he
hadn’t ruined anything between us.

That was what I wanted for Carmine.

“He’s coming out,” John was saying, motioning for us to step forward from
behind the trees we had been spying from.

I swallowed hard as Nico pulled me to the spot with John, and together, we
watched his father come out of the brownstone, his hands behind his back. He
looked worse for wear, his hair haphazard about his head and his clothing
rumpled and wrinkled. After seeing him polished, I was surprised that he
would come out like that.

“Fuck me,” Nico muttered as they led him over to a waiting car. “That’s
really him.”

“It’s over,” I said, tears perilously close to being released. “He’s done. He’s
finished. He’s going to prison.”

Nico turned and wrapped his arms around me, letting out a slow, heavy
breath in my hair. “It’s over. We did it. You fucking did it. You got the
bastard.”

I wasn’t going to refute that. The feds had told us both numerous times that it
had been my article that sparked the interest in getting Carmine in the first
place, but also at looking at the corruption within the police department too.

Without it, they would have thought Carmine was untouchable, that he
wasn’t worth going after given the way he had gotten out of so many things
before.

I had done that.

Pulling back, I watched as they loaded Carmine into the car, Nico’s arm
around my waist. It was truly over. We could build a life with our son and
this unborn baby, with Leda and Emilia, and even Vincent, who had refused
to leave Nico and now was more of a personal bodyguard than the second-in-
command. There was no more D’Agostino Mafia now that we had cut off the
very head.

**

Two days later, Nico, Leda, and I attended a small funeral for Angelica. Nico
had insisted on at least a graveside service, burying her beside her parents.
“This would have been what she wanted,” he murmured as we stood and
watched them fill in the hole. “To be reunited with her parents again.”

“I know,” I sighed, laying my head on his shoulder. “I just wish that I could
have done more for her.” She had given me her deepest, darkest secret, and I
hadn’t been able to get her the help she needed in the long run.

“There was nothing you could do,” he said softly, his arm tightening on my
waist. “She needed peace, Rory, and this was her only means.”

I didn’t answer, instead watching them push the dirt into the hole. A part of
me knew that Nico was right. Angelica had been lost way before I had gotten
involved, way before he had found her, but it was sad to think that there had
been nothing we were able to do in the end. I hated that Lorenzo would grow
up not knowing his mother, or his father really, and one day would run across
this information and relive it like he had been involved.

At least he was getting better with his lashing out. Every day I carved out
time with him, taking him to the Midtown headquarters as he was fascinated
by the printing presses. There he didn’t do anything but watch, and I couldn’t
help but wonder if that was how his brain processed things.

He let me put him to bed as well, even allowing me to kiss his forehead
without much of a complaint. Sometimes it was hard to leave him, wanting to
tell him that he was safe and no one else was going to bother him again.

I just didn’t know what his future held. Nico and I hadn’t discussed Lorenzo
or his plans for the future, and soon we were going to have to. We were going
to have to figure out if he was part of our family or if he was better off with a
foster family.

The thought hurt my heart. This was the last link to Angelica, the last thing
she had given this earth even under the worst possible time in her life. I
wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.

“Are you ready?” Nico asked. “Remember we have a dinner date tonight.”

“That’s right,” Leda piped up. “I’m watching the boys with Emilia while you
two go out.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” I replied, pressing my lips to Nico’s cheek. “How could

I when that’s all you have been talking about for days?” The city was starting
to slowly open back up after the pandemic crisis had started to wane a little,
and when we found out that the restaurants were able to take on actual
customers, he had declared that we were overdue for an adult date.

He wasn’t wrong.

“I’m excited,” he whispered, tucking my hair behind my ear and tracing the
shell as he did so. “Think I will get lucky on this one?”

I laughed as we walked away from the grave site. “Maybe, though I hope you
like a knocked-up version who can’t drink.”

“I will take you any way I can have you,” he said, keeping me close to his
side. “And the knocked-up version just means I don’t have to worry about
impregnating you.”

“Because you already did,” I drawled.

“Oh yeah,” he grinned. “I did, didn’t I?”

When we climbed in the car, Nico pulled out his cell. “You know Vincent is
upset that you don’t trust him to babysit now.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust him,” I said. “It’s the fact that he will probably have
our son using a knife before he learns to walk.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Nico winked. “What do you have against knives?”

“Nothing,” I muttered, already picturing Vincent’s grin and Anthony holding

a knife in his pudgy hand. “But we should have less reason to have them
around any longer.”

“True,” Nico admitted. “Maybe a gun then. I will get Vincent on that
instead.”

He was going to be the death of me.

“So,” Nico said after a moment. “This date tonight. You think I will get
lucky?”

I shot him a look, my hand resting on my stomach, and his eyes softened.
“You know,” he said, putting his cell away and covering my hand with his. “I
never thought I would care so much about having a kid before. I mean, you
were already pregnant with Anthony, but that time—”

“It was hard,” I cut in, giving him a small smile. “I understand. We weren’t
on the best of terms during that entire pregnancy.” I had been obsessed with
finding out about what Carmine had to hide, and Nico had been constantly
upset, trying to stop me from learning his secret.

“It wasn’t,” he said softly, rubbing my hand with his. “I’m not going to do
that to our son, to this baby again. She or he will know that papa loves him or
her.”

“Oh, Nico,” I breathed, cupping his cheek with my other hand. “They know.
You are an amazing dad.” Even to Lorenzo, he was amazing. Nico was
patient and kind, far different from the lifestyle he had grown up in, and there
was truly little he could do to make me think otherwise. I mean, I had seen
his rough times, but they paled in comparison to what his father had done to
him and Leda. “Are you really going to go see him?”
“I need to,” Nico said quietly, some of the hardness coming back into his
expression. “I have to close that chapter. It’s time that he faced me without
being able to have the upper hand.”

I couldn’t understand, but if he needed to do it, then I was going to support

him all the way.
 Chapter 22
Nico

I straightened my jacket as I gathered my things from the bowl, stuffing them

back into my pockets so that I could follow the guard to my father’s cell.

My father’s cell. That felt fucking amazing every time I thought about it, how
he wasn’t going to terrorize us any longer. The Mafia was gone, disbanded,
and the capos scattered. The feds had taken most of my father’s holdings, but
I had gotten the Long Island mansion, which I planned to sell at the first
opportunity, and a few of his businesses that hadn’t been destroyed in the
war.

Now I wanted to see him. I wanted him to see that he hadn’t destroyed me
when he tried to kill me, that he hadn’t torn me down.

If anything, he was going to be the one that would live with the fact that he
hadn’t been able to take his own son down.

I was led into a room with a glass divider, and it wasn’t long before my father
shuffled in on the other side, his hands connected with handcuffs that were
hanging from the belt around his waist. He looked old, the prison garb
hanging off his body as if he had lost weight.

“So,” he started before I could say a word. “You’ve come to gloat, I guess?”

That was exactly what I had come to do. “You look like shit.”

He arched a brow. “And you look like you just survived your brush with
death. Congratulations, son. It’s good to know that I didn’t kill you.”

Yeah, I didn’t believe that. I rolled my shoulders to ease the sudden tension.
“I just wanted you to know that your Mafia is no more. I’ve broken it down.
No capos are in charge.”

To my surprise, he chuckled. “What do you think this is, Nicolas? I’m in

fucking prison, not buried six feet under. I know exactly what is happening
with my fucking Mafia.”

“That’s where you are wrong,” I grinned. “It’s my fucking Mafia now that
you are rocking the orange jumpsuit, and I have done exactly what I have
always wanted to do. You’re finished.”

He inclined his head. “If that is what you think, son. The Mafia isn’t just a
fucking people. It’s a business, a shark that will come back to test the waters
when the time is right. You keep thinking you have the high hand here, but
one day you are going to see that you never did.”

I was done. “Goodbye.”

He didn’t respond and I walked out, his words rolling around in my head. He
might be right. While Mafias took some time to form, it was the small groups
out there that ended up building up the Mafia, and there were a shitload that
would love to take the D’Agostino place in New York.

The good news was that I wouldn’t be part of it. I was done with that life, that
part of me, and was ready to just be a husband and father.

Not just to two people, either. I was in the process of finalizing the
paperwork to adopt Lorenzo formally. Rory and I had discussed it, and the
best option was for him to stay where he was starting to be comfortable
around us, Rory especially. I figured he already saw her as his surrogate mom
anyway, given that he had more of a connection with her than he ever had
with Angelica.

It made sense, and though the second child was a surprise, I was perfectly
fine with a third.

The sun was warm on my face as I stepped out of the prison and walked to
the waiting car, glad that I had that off my chest now. “So?” Vincent asked as
I approached, propped up against the door. “How’s the fucker?”

“He’s the same,” I said. “He’s done, and he knows it.”

“Good,” Vincent replied. “I really would have liked to kill him.”

There was a time that I wanted to as well, but prison was torture that he
couldn’t get out of. Death would have been far too kind for the likes of him,
and I was glad that he was in a place that wouldn’t bend to his name or his
fucking attitude like the capos had. “Take me home.”

He nodded and I climbed in the back of car, resting against the seat. I was
called a traitor by some for what I was doing with the feds. Some wanted to
kill me for giving up the secrets within the police department, but in order for
me and Rory to have a normal future, it had to be done.

Now I was looking forward to our future, to our time together and the house
we would have to search for instead of the penthouse. She didn’t know this
either, but I wanted the picket fence shit, a place for the kids to run around in
and just be kids. I wanted to see her at night in the backyard as we did normal
family things like roast marshmallows and watch the fucking stars.

I wanted all that. For the longest time in my life, I had been consumed by
anger and revenge, letting it slowly eat at me that I needed to destroy my
father. I needed to make sure that he died.

Now he was taken care of, and I wanted my life back. I wanted to be happy,
and Rory made me happy.

Our son made me happy.

Looking out of the window, I gave myself a little grin in the reflection. It was
funny how this story started, but it was a hell of a lot better than the ending I
had planned. I couldn’t even consider that an ending any longer.

Fuck, it was good to be me.

 Epilogue
Carmine

I drummed my fingers along the table as I waited, yawning. My cell was shit,
the mattress hard as a rock, and I wasn’t sleeping well. Outwardly I was the
perfect picture of a Mafia don because that was what I still was. My fucking
son thought he had disbanded everything, ruined me even, but I was still in
charge. There were ones that were still loyal to my cause, and it was only
going to be a matter of time before I got out of this place.

My lawyer thought I was crazy to think of that. My trial was still looming,
and he wanted me to take a plea deal in exchange for a lighter sentence.

Hell, I wasn’t going to do that. I wasn’t going to spend any more time than
necessary in this hellhole.

I just had to be patient.

The door opened, and unlike Nicolas’ visit a few days ago, there wasn’t any
glass separating my visitor and me. “What are you doing?” she asked,
yanking against the hold that the guard had on her arm. “Let me go!”

“Let her go,” I answered, standing. There were no chains, no handcuffs, and
when my daughter turned, she realized that it was just her and me in this
room. “You finally came.”

She rubbed her arm. “Like I had a choice. Your goons snatched me off the
street.”

“Well, you wouldn’t come on my command,” I reminded her. “So, I had to

take drastic measures.”

She sniffed, and I came closer. “You are the future of our family,” I told her,
hating that I had to even say the words. My son was dead to me and would
have been if he hadn’t been wearing that vest that day I shot him. He wasn’t
the one that needed to take the reins.
It was Leda.

“I’m nothing,” she spat out, her eyes flashing. “I hate this family, and I hate
you!”

I slapped her hard then, my hand stinging. “You are my daughter, and while I
am still walking this fucking earth, you will do what I say.” I was tired of all
this disobedience from those that I had helped mold, that I had helped get to
their places today.

I looked over at the guard. “Take her to her new husband.”

Leda’s eyes widened, and she started to fight, but she was no match for him,
her screams echoing in the room as she was dragged out. She hadn’t seen this
coming from me, probably thinking that since I was in this fucking prison,
she was free and clear of her marriage contract.

That wasn’t the case at all. I still owned my daughter, and she still owed
obedience to her family name and her father. I was going to see that carried
out. I smirked and went to sit back down, tapping my fingers once more. At
least one of my children would pay off.

THE END

Leda’s story will be told in a new trilogy

Book 1 – Heartless Prince – coming August 2021:
Pre Order your copy today:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B097NJRK99
OTHER BOOKS BY BROOK WILDER
FALIERO MAFIA
CAGED PRINCESS
BROKEN QUEEN
SHATTERED EMPRESS

KRYLOVA BRATVA
CAPTIVE
PRISONER
POSSESSION

IVANOV BRATVA TRILOGY

TAKEN BY THE BOSS
OWNED BY THE BOSS
HELD BY THE BOSS

CONTARINI CRIME FAMILY SERIES

CLAIMED BY THE DON
CHAINED BY THE DON
BOUND BY THE DON