6. Nico

NICO

The whiskey burns going down, a familiar fire that does nothing to thaw the ice in my veins. I welcomed the numbness, the bitter anesthetic of cheap booze and cheaper company. Anything to dull the ache in my chest, the gnawing hollow where my heart used to be.

It"s been two weeks since I walked away from Eli, since I shattered both our hearts in the name of keeping him safe. Fourteen endless, grey days of throwing myself into the family business, of burying myself in blood and bullets and the cold comfort of power.

I tell myself it"s better this way, that Eli"s better off as far away from my world as possible. That the light in his eyes, the sweetness of his smile, would only be tarnished by the filth and violence that cling to me like a second skin.

But late at night, when the booze has worn off and the nameless bodies have gone, the truth whispers through the cracks in my walls. The truth that I"m a coward, a fool who threw away the best thing that ever happened to me out of fear and stubborn pride.

I can still feel the silk of Eli"s skin beneath my fingers, taste the sunshine of his kiss on my tongue. Can still hear the way he gasped my name like a prayer, the broken sobs that shook his slender frame as I walked away and didn"t look back.

Those memories are a special kind of torture, a penance I force myself to relive in vivid detail. Because I deserve the pain, the gnawing ache of regret. I deserve to suffer for breaking the heart of the only person who ever looked at me and saw something worth loving.

The sharp rap of knuckles against my office door jolts me out of my wallowing. I toss back the rest of my whiskey and scrub a hand over my face, straightening my tie with the other.

"Come in," I call, my voice raw and gravelly from disuse and too much alcohol.

The door swings open to reveal Tommy, his normally cocky grin nowhere to be found. There"s a grim set to his jaw, a hard light in his eyes that I"ve rarely seen before.

"We need to talk," he says without preamble, shutting the door firmly behind him.

I raise a brow, feigning a nonchalance I don"t feel. "Oh? Thought you were too busy chasing skirts and snorting coke to bother with the family business these days."

Tommy"s mouth tightens, his gaze sharpening. "Cut the shit, Nico. You know damn well why I"m here."

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. "Enlighten me."

"Eli," Tommy says bluntly, and just the sound of his name is enough to make my heart clench painfully. "You need to pull your head out of your ass and fix this mess before it"s too late."

I feel my expression shutter, a cold mask slamming down. "There"s nothing to fix," I grit out through clenched teeth. "I did what I had to do to keep him safe. To keep him out of our world."

Tommy scoffs, shaking his head in disgust. "Bullshit. You did what you always do when things get real - you ran. You pushed him away because you"re too chickenshit to fight for what you want."

Anger flares hot in my gut, my hands curling into fists on the arms of my chair. "You don"t know what the fuck you"re talking about," I snarl, leaning forward to glare at my brother. "You think I wanted to hurt him? To break his fucking heart? I did it to protect him, Tommy. To keep him away from the poison of our family."

"And how"s that working out for you?" Tommy challenges, his voice rising to match mine. "You think Eli"s happy right now? Safe? He"s fucking miserable, Nico. He loves you, and you abandoned him."

I flinch, the words hitting me like a punch to the solar plexus. I know he"s right, know that I"ve likely destroyed any chance of happiness Eli and I might have had. But the alternative - the risk of Eli getting caught in the crosshairs of our world - is unthinkable.

"It"s better this way," I rasp, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. "Eli deserves a normal life, a future unburdened by my sins. I can"t give him that, Tommy. I"ll never be able to give him that."

Tommy"s face softens, understanding warring with frustration in his eyes. "You"re not Dad, Nico," he says quietly, the words landing like a gut punch. "You"re not doomed to follow in his footsteps, to let this life swallow you whole. You have a choice."

I bark out a harsh laugh, the sound scraping my throat raw. "Do I? Because from where I"m sitting, it looks like my choices are pretty fucking limited. I"m the heir to a goddamn crime empire, Tommy. There"s no walking away from that, no happily ever after in the cards for me."

"Bullshit," Tommy snaps, slamming his hand down on my desk. The sudden violence of the gesture makes me tense, my instincts screaming danger even as my rational mind knows my brother would never hurt me.

"You"re just scared," he continues, jabbing a finger at me. "Scared of taking a risk, of reaching for something real. Well, let me tell you something, brother - love is always a risk. It"s messy and complicated and it fucking hurts sometimes. But it"s worth it, Nico. Eli is worth it."

I squeeze my eyes shut, pain lancing through my chest like a hot poker. I want to believe him, want to throw caution to the wind and go after the man I love with everything I have. But the cold, ruthless pragmatist in me knows it"s a pipe dream.

"Even if I wanted to..." I start, my voice rough and ragged. "Even if I thought for a second that Eli would forgive me, that we could make it work...it"s too late, Tommy. I burned that bridge to ashes."

Tommy opens his mouth to argue, but before he can get a word out, a sharp knock sounds at the door.

"Boss?" Luca"s voice, tight with urgency. "We got a problem."

I straighten in my chair, ice flooding my veins. "Come in," I bark, my hand already reaching for the gun holstered at my ribs.

Luca enters, his normally stoic face etched with lines of tension. "Just got word from our guy in the Bianchi crew," he says without preamble. "Apparently, Stefano"s feeling cocky after the stunt at Bloom"s shop. He, uh...he sent you a message."

I narrow my eyes, dread coiling in my gut like a snake. "What kind of message?"

In answer, Luca holds out his phone, a video already queued up on the screen. With a sense of foreboding, I hit play.

The video is grainy and poorly lit, shot on a shaky cell phone camera. But I would recognize that riot of golden curls, that defiantly lifted chin anywhere.

Eli. Bound to a chair in the middle of a dank, dirty room, a slip of black fabric tired around his eyes. His shirt is torn and stained with what looks like blood, and the sight makes a red haze descend over my vision.

"Smile for the camera, pretty boy," a gruff voice sneers from off-screen. A hand fists in Eli"s hair, yanking his head back and forcing a pained grunt from his throat. "Got a special message for your boyfriend. You want to tell him what"s going to happen to you if he doesn"t play ball?"

Eli"s jaw clenches, his bound hands curling into fists. "Fuck you," he spits, and pride surges in my chest alongside the icy terror. "Nico"s going to rip you apart for this, you sick bastard."

The man laughs, ugly and mean. "Big talk from a guy tied to a chair," he mocks. "But don"t worry, sweetheart. We"ll make sure your boy toy gets a front-row seat to the show."

The video cuts off abruptly, leaving me staring at a frozen image of Eli"s bloodied, defiant face. For a moment, I can"t breathe, can"t think past the rushing in my ears and the red mist clouding my vision.

They have Eli. They have my beautiful, brave boy, and they"re hurting him. Because of me, because of my family, because of the toxic, poisonous world I tried so hard to keep him safe from.

"Nico," Tommy"s voice cuts through the static, tight with worry. "What are we going to do?"

I raise my head slowly, meeting my brother"s gaze with a cold, deadly calm. "We"re going to get him back," I say, my voice steady and sure despite the rage and terror churning in my gut. "And then we"re going to burn the Bianchi family to the fucking ground."

I stand, checking the clip in my gun before sliding it back into its holster. My movements are precise, mechanical, every inch the ruthless mafioso I was raised to be. But inside, I"m a maelstrom of fear and fury, of bone-deep terror at the thought of Eli at the mercy of those sadistic bastards.

Hold on, baby,I think fiercely, my heart clenching painfully in my chest. I"m coming for you. I"ll always come for you.

I gather my men with clipped, terse commands, my mind racing with strategies and contingencies. I"ll rip apart the city block by block if I have to, burn my way through the Bianchi ranks until I find Eli and bring him home.

And then...then I"ll spend the rest of my life making this right. Proving to Eli that he"s my heart, my home, my everything. That no force on this earth could keep me from his side, not anymore.

I failed him once, let my fear and pride drive me to push him away. I won"t make that mistake again. I can"t.

Because a life without Eli in it, a future without his sunshine smile and his gentle heart...that"s no life at all. And I"ll fight like hell, I"ll walk through fire and blood and bullets, to keep him safe.

To keep him mine, in every way that matters.

As we load up and head out into the night, grim determination settles over me like a second skin. I"m coming for my boy, and God help anyone who stands in my way.

The Bianchi family has no idea the hell they"ve just unleashed. But they"re about to find out what happens when you cross Nico Caruso.

And may God have mercy on their souls...because I sure as fuck won"t.