Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

NICO

W e paint a magnificent picture as we walk up the steps leading into the mansion. The staff stops to stare as I return home, arm-in-arm with the lost princess. I don't glance at them, neither do I give them the time of the day as I lead Aurora forward with only one location in mind.

Sebastian is a traitorous fucker. I always knew he was a son of a bitch. I just didn't think he'd go against the clear rules of our organization. One of which involves making decisions with the consent of every single made man that sits at the table. But tonight, Sebastian not only called for a meeting of the table, he also threw a small dinner party inviting all the people of consequence in the outfit, excluding me.

Aurora and I walk toward the large dining room in the mansion. The double doors leading inside swing open as soon as we appear in front of them. Every gaze inside the hall lands on us as soon as we step inside. The music is abruptly cut off, and all twenty people who had been in the middle of having dinner at the long table fall still.

I feel Aurora stiffen right before her hand tightens around my forearm. She's nervous. I hate that she is scared. Considering this is her birthright. This is where she was meant to be. But, after ten years away from it all, it's normal for her to feel slightly intimidated.

When I decide to speak, my voice is like a knife cutting through the thick tension.

"A party, and I wasn't invited?" I drawl.

Sebastian makes a move first. The bastard is seated at the head of the table. But at the sight of us, he gets to his feet, a muscle bulging in his jaw.

"What the hell are you doing here, Ramirez?" he spits.

He hasn't noticed Aurora yet. Hasn't taken a good look at her.

"I brought you a present, Seb. Say hi to your godfather, mi vida ?"

On cue, she speaks up from beside me, voice soft, "Hi, zio Sebastian."

The shock that passes across his face fills me with immense satisfaction. I hear a few scattered gasps from the people in the room. He steps toward us with quickening steps, stopping in front of the woman on my arm.

"Aurora?" he asks incredulously.

"How have you been, zio?" she asks pleasantly.

"What are you doing here, cara ? Your father's funeral was days ago. I'm sorry you didn't get to come. I thought of searching for you, but Valerio made me swear not to bring you back here. So I let you and your sister remain as you were. And now? You've found your way back. And on Ramirez's arm, no less," he says with a slight frown, gaze moving between us.

"About that, Seb," I say with a smirk, enjoying his obvious confusion. "We have another present for you. Tell him, sweetheart."

Aurora finally lets go of my arm to show off the gemstone on her finger.

"I'm engaged, zio ," she states enthusiastically, brown eyes bright. "Nico asked me to marry him."

Chaos ensues. The quiet room explodes into mutters and whispers. Sebastian slowly looks at me, and I see understanding settle over his face.

You just got played, old man.

If he was smarter, he'd have been able to guess my intentions. Maybe he would have succeeded in stopping me. But Sebastian's always been more muscle than sense. His jaw grinds as he finally realizes the gravity of the situation. Rage flickers in his brown eyes.

His lips part, but before he can speak, someone rises to their feet. With a fork, Adrian taps against his champagne glass, the clinking sound echoing through the room, commanding attention effortlessly. The noise fades as all eyes turn toward him.

His eyes are on Aurora and me as he says, "Let us all make a toast to the happy couple, offering them our congratulations. To Aurora and to Nicolas, our future Don," his voice booms across the room.

He offers me a short nod, a symbol of his support. I don't move or say a word. An even thicker silence follows the pronouncement. It's almost like they're all waiting with bated breath, wondering if they should accept it or not. This goes on for several seconds until there's the sound of a throat clearing before someone else gets to their feet, pushing their chair back.

Camila offers me a small smile as she raises her glass in a toast as well. She's quickly followed by Marco, who practically stumbles to his feet. With the three of them standing, the rest of them have no choice but to follow suit. The room fills with the sound of people getting to their feet and raising their champagne glasses.

"To Aurora and Nicolas," they all echo.

A deep-seated sense of satisfaction fills me. Checkmate.

Very slowly, I look Sebastian in the eye. I find a murderous expression staring back at me. He lifts his hand, and I get the feeling he wants to strangle me. But he can't very well do that in front of all these people.

"This isn't over, Ramirez," he growls.

He glares at me one more time before storming out of the room. Once he's gone, I face the rest of them and wave a hand in the air.

"I apologize for the short intermission. You may continue with your meal," I say, my voice carrying through the room.

They don't need any more prompting. Conversation resumes, although we don't escape their attention as we glide toward the table. We step toward our positions, mine at the head and Aurora's at my right. Before we take our seats, I lean down to whisper in her ear.

"You did good, mi vida ," I tell her, splaying a hand across her waist.

A light shiver goes through her. She offers me a small, adoring smile before taking her seat. As soon as she does so, Adrian, who's right by her side, engages her in conversation. A muscle flexes in my jaw, but I don't interrupt, especially since Marco starts droning on about how he kept wondering if I would show up tonight.

The slimy eel neglected to mention to me that there would be a meeting at all. Adrian was the one who informed me two days ago that Sebastian had called for a gathering. The aim was obvious—to garner support from the outfit. And if I had to guess, he planned to gain the support of members of the table as well.

He probably didn't expect Adrian to be working against him. By informing me about Sebastian's plans, Adrian has proven his loyalty, but I'll still be watching him like a hawk. While it's clear he has no interest in challenging me for the position of Don, his motivations are still murky, so I still have to remain on guard when it comes to him.

We're served our food, and dinner continues without any further interruptions. Once it's over, they all rise to mingle and discuss matters of the outfit. I'm sure a lot of them are wondering at the sudden reappearance of a Maranzano. Aurora stands beside me as I speak to Ernesto. He's a stalwart middle-aged man with a bald head and gray eyes. He's our biggest influence on the political world. We share pleasantries and I'm perfectly polite as he asks me about my plans when I become Don.

Aurora shifts uneasily at my side, and I look down at her blank expression.

"One second, Ernesto," I say to the man in front of me. I turn to my fiancée with a raised eyebrow, wrapping an arm around her waist as I pull her to the side of the room. No one else is around, offering us some privacy. "Bored?"

She's been perfectly compliant all evening, playing her role perfectly, smiling at the right times, and being silent when not addressed. And while I'm glad, it makes me antsy, because it's quite unlike her. Since we met again, she's kept on surprising me. At times I'm able to catch glimpses of the woman I knew. But the majority of the time, she's putting on an act, pretending to be someone she's not. She's good at it. And I hate that she is.

"Of course I'm bored. I don't care about any of this. I want to go home," she murmurs.

"You're home now, mi vida ," I tell her.

"This isn't my home."

She can deny it all she wants but we both know her roots are here. They always will be.

"Why don't you go and talk to Camila? She's been sneaking glances at you all evening, and I'm sure you have a lot to talk about. After all, you haven't seen her in years."

The platinum-blonde woman is another mystery. I wasn't expecting her to stand up tonight. At the very least, I expected her uncle to do so first. But she pledged her alliance before Marco, a fact that does not sit right with me. I can't help but wonder at her motivations.

Aurora's gaze softens. "I cut her off completely when I left. I'm sure she's angry. She was my friend."

My jaw tightens at those words. I look down at her, willing her eyes to meet mine, but they remain across the room, staring at Camila as she walks around hand in hand with her husband.

"She wasn't your only friend," I say in a low tone.

She finally looks up at me, eyes lighting with that fire that always gets me going.

"You don't count, Nico."

Our gazes clash for a couple of seconds as we stare at each other. She breaks the contact first, looking down at my chest.

"Just go and talk to her if you wish. Talk to anybody. It'll be your chance to use your carefully constructed story," I state. "I need to continue my conversation with Ernesto."

I need to speak with a lot more people than Ernesto. I need to figure out who my allies are. They all showed up to the gathering Sebastian organized, but did they come here willing to support him or just to test the waters?

"Fine," Aurora says.

Before I can blink, she leans up, placing her manicured hand on my shoulder. My body turns rigid when she kisses my cheek, her lips searing. It completely catches me off guard.

"Don't be so tense," she says, her mouth moving close to my ear. "We're putting on a show, remember?"

The sound of her voice has blood rushing downward, straight to my dick, which twitches in my pants. Fuck.

I pull away from her before she can notice the effect she has on me.

"Go," I say gruffly. "And one more thing, tell Camila to meet me in the second-floor office in thirty minutes. We'll have our meeting then. She'll understand."

She arches an eyebrow but doesn't let her emotions show otherwise. She nods once and offers me a smile before walking away. I watch as she steps toward Camila. Once she's gone, I beckon for Vlad to move forward. He and the other guards have been leaning against the walls in the room, silent, observing.

"Where did Sebastian go?" I question.

"We're not sure, boss. He took off in his car. Danny tried to follow him, but that cazzo , Morris, stopped him."

Morris is Sebastian's senior guard. He's the same one that tried to prevent Aurora and me from walking into the mansion earlier.

"Leave him. He's probably off throwing a tantrum. He'll return eventually," I tell Vlad. "Let me know if there's any problems. And make sure to keep an eye on Aurora."

"I will, boss," he says earnestly.

He returns to his position while I head back to Ernesto. Over the course of the next half hour, I speak to the majority of the men and women in the room. They all ply me with platitudes and fake apologies. They're well aware that the balance of power is shifting and they'll do anything to be on the right side.

The only thing that stops them from falling at my feet is the fact that I haven't been crowned yet. Before I can take up my position as Don, the entire table has to agree. It's annoyingly democratic. I already have Adrian's support, and Marco will follow suit. As for Sebastian…he's a cornered rat. I'll have to strong arm him into agreeing to my propositions. Luckily for me, I know just the thing to force him into acquiescence.

Getting The Shadow to agree is a much bigger problem, considering I have no way of reaching him. He'll have to make his decision on his own. If he thinks I'm worthy of the position, he'll find a way to let us know. Like his name connotes, he's always watching. We can't see him, but he can see us.

It's always irritated me, that anonymity that's made him incredibly powerful in the outfit. If he agrees to me taking over as Don, then he'll have no choice but to reveal himself to me. Only a few select people know what he even looks like. A part of me is worried Sebastian is one of those people. If he is, then he's likely to sway him somehow and make him vote against me, which could pose a problem.

The Shadow's the last piece of the puzzle. He's also a chess piece I have no way of moving.

Camila's a woman with more balls than most men in the outfit. Marco's niece has lived with him all of her life, ever since her parents died in a tragic fire when she was little. Unlike her uncle who works best in the background, she's always commanded attention. She's thirty years old and carries an air of confidence with her everywhere, along with a sharp wit and a cunning mind. I respect that. I admire her intelligence and strength. Which is why I'm seated across from her, ready to hear her out.

"What do you want?" I question as soon as we're seated.

She smiles. "You're not a fan of beating around the bush, are you, Nicolas? Always straight to the point."

"I find it helps to keep conversations shorter. Why waste time on meaningless things when we can cut straight to the heart of the matter? You asked for a meeting, and here I am, ready to listen."

Instead of replying to me, she digresses. "How long have you known where Aurora and her sister were? The Don declared that anyone that went in search of them would end up dead."

Yes, that particular threat is the reason Aurora was able to stay in Chicago, working as a big-shot interior designer instead of leaving entirely like her sister. I think she knew her father would keep everyone away, which is why she didn't try very hard to hide. Then again, the woman has always been daring. She probably didn't even care.

"Why do you care?" I ask Camila. "Just tell me what you want."

Her eyes are focused solely on my face, although she doesn't quite look me in the eye. Not a lot of people are brave enough to look me in the eye.

"Aurora fed me a story about how you found her again, and then you both fell in love," she says instead. My jaw tightens. "You don't really expect people to believe that, do you?"

"I don't particularly give a fuck if they believe it or not. We're getting married, end of story."

She smirks. "You know, I always thought the two of you were meant to be together. I just didn't think you'd end up together this way."

"You have five seconds to make your request before I take any chance of fulfilling it away," I tell her.

Camila leans back in her seat. "You owe me, Nicolas. I convinced my uncle to support you."

"Which begs the question for the third fucking time. What do you want?"

"I want a seat at the table," she finally says.

Her request catches me off guard. I was expecting her to demand access to more buildings. I thought she wanted to branch out of the club business and test out other waters. This request is completely unexpected.

"A woman has never sat at the table before," I say slowly.

The Italian mafia as a whole isn't a very progressive organization. The worst of all the families are in the Chicago outfit. This has to do with the fact that we run a more centralized unit in this city. In other cities, like New York, there are several Dons who command equal, or at least a similar amount of power. Recently, one of the families even produced a female Don.

But in Chicago, most of the top dogs are traditional old men with unshakeable principles and values. Adrian and I are the youngest men who hold a seat of power, and while he might have inherited his position, I had to fight my way to get to where I am now.

There's also The Shadow. I have my suspicions that he's not that old either, considering the Don gave him a seat at the table only a couple of years ago. Still, there are fixed rules—age-old traditions. Camila can't just sit there and demand a position most made men in the outfit would kill for. And I can't give it to her, not when my rightful position still hangs in the balance.

"That's really sexist of you, Nico," she says disappointedly.

"And your request is ridiculous. I understand that you hold a lot of sway in the outfit, Camila. But you're not a made man."

"I like to think of myself as a made woman," she says lightly.

I cross my arms over my chest as I study her.

"No one's going to hand you a seat at the table."

"Of course not. Which is why I'm supporting you. So you can give it to me when you become Don."

Give it to her ? Hilarious. She's bold, I'll give her that. And she reminds me of a particularly infuriating brunette in my life. No wonder she and Aurora used to be close. They're annoyingly similar.

"I still haven't heard a good enough reason for why I should give you anything. And enough with the bullshit about supporting me. Marco would have fallen in line sooner or later. I want to know who you've got backing you. There has to be a reason why you're confident enough to make such a request."

"Perceptive as always," she notes, sitting forward. "If you give me a seat at the table, I'll give you the keys to the Bratva."

That has me leaning forward in surprise. The Russians in Chicago are notable recluses. They don't bother us, and we don't bother them. The few times our organizations have clashed, there's been casualties on both ends. A few Dons in the past have tried to build a relationship with them, but they've refused every single time.

Again, I blame our long-standing principles. In addition to the sexism, most men in the outfit are also pure-blood idealists. It's why I'm having such a hard time. They don't want a made man with Mexican roots at the head of their table. That's not how it is everywhere else, though. The Dons in New York have an easier relationship with the Bratva because they're good at intermarriage and forming alliances.

The Cosa Nostra here though, has stood stubbornly alone for decades.

"And how do you plan to do that?" I ask, although I already know the answer.

I suppose I've always had my suspicions, but it isn't until she confirms them that I realize the truth.

"My husband has connections with the Bratva," Camila states.

And there it is. I knew there was a reason her uncle assented to her marrying a man like Lukas, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. I looked into him and found an ironclad background. He's a Russian orphan who moved to America in his teens. He started working for Marco, incorporating himself into his household. He served in the army for a while, and when he returned, he got married to Camila. I realize now that Marco had an endgame all this while.

The Bratva sent a damn spy, and Marco helped them with. My fists clench. I should kill that old man.

"Why the fuck should I help you when you've been lying to the outfit this whole time?" I snap.

"Because it's in all our best interests if you do. Lukas and I have been biding our time. Waiting for you to assume your position now that Valerio's gone. The Bratva wants to build an alliance with us."

"How high up is he?" I ask in a low voice, referring to her husband's position in the Bratva.

Camila simply shrugs. "That doesn't really matter, does it? Now that all the cards are on the table, what do you want to do about it? It's your choice, Nicolas. Are we going to have a non-Italian Don for the first time in the outfit? Or are you going to let Sebastian win?"

I hate being pushed to the wall like this. And I especially hate it when someone tries to force my hand.

"Give me some time to think about it."

Even as I say the words, I've already made my decision. An alliance with the Bratva would help to solidify my position when I'm Don. On the flip side, Lukas's identity could pose some problems. It stinks of betrayal, and no one takes kindly to betrayal.

But the good far outweighs the bad in this case. If the Bratva's on our side, we won't have to rely on the drug cartels anymore. We'll have a direct link to Russia and a chance to get some fields and land of our own.

"Don't think about it for too long, Nicolas. Time's ticking. And I want my seat at the table."

"Doesn't your husband want to sit there instead?" I ask bitterly.

She smiles. "Lukas is fine with me taking the reins. All he wants is to accomplish his mission."

I glare at her. I'm already working hard to secure my position and now I have to worry about going against the rest of the outfit as well.

"Will your uncle support your rise to power?" I ask, because I at least need someone at the table to agree to this asinine plot.

"Marco doesn't know a thing about my ambitions," she says bluntly. "He thinks Lukas is his ticket to retiring a very rich man."

I sigh softly at that. "You realize this will be immensely difficult, right?"

Damn near impossible if I consider the several other men who are in line to take over my position at the table once I'm Don. Men with honor, who have proven their loyalty. I can't pass over them all for her.

"No one has to know about this until you're Don, Nicolas. And when you are, no one will cross you."

"They might not cross me openly, but if I do this, I'll have even more enemies working against me within the outfit. And I have no assurance that you and your husband aren't going to stab me in the back."

It doesn't sit well with me, the way he stayed hidden all these years. I overlooked him, which was my mistake. And then I allowed him to worm his way into our inner circle. And now I'm just supposed to agree to their demands? I don't think so.

Camila smiles when my phone lights up with an incoming text. My brows furrow as I lift it to read the text from an unknown number.

A Trojan horse doesn't always have to mean war, Ramirez. Give Camila what she wants, and you'll have my support - The Shadow .

Very slowly, I lift my eyes to look at the woman in front of me, seeing her in an entirely new light.

"How the fuck do you know The Shadow?"

"I'm guessing we have a deal," she says confidently instead of replying.

She doesn't even try to hide the fact that she knows she's won.

I don't fucking like this.