Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

NICO

T here's a pensiveness in the air after the funeral of one of the greatest men I've ever known.

Valerio Maranzano died a fucking legend, as is clear by the vast majority of people that are in attendance at his funeral. There are Dons present from all over the country, especially New York. Members of the Irish mafia, heads of the Mexican drug cartels, and the BMF. Even the Yakuza. I look around at the few members of the Japanese mafia standing among us. Every single man that has an alliance with the outfit has shown up the pay their respects.

The funeral goes by without a hitch. When it's over, I feel a certain type of emptiness. I haven't grieved Valerios' death. I have no idea how to do so. I spent the majority of his final days with him. He had a lot to say, and I listened. And when he breathed his last, I was right by his side.

Right now, I'm in the back of my car, being driven toward the compound, which was Valerios' house. All members of the outfit have been invited there for the customary drinks, a sort of revelry to pay our last respects. When my men and I arrive there however, we're barred from entering.

Irritation swirls in my gut as Sebastian strides into the open courtyard we're currently standing in. He's wearing a black suit with a black coat thrown over his shoulders. The wrinkles on his face are more pronounced, his brown eyes alert. I didn't think he'd pull this shit today of all days.

"What now, Sebastian?" I ask.

Several men have gathered in the courtyard by now. Vlad and the rest of my guards stand behind me, an unshakeable force, ready to fight at the slightest hint of trouble. The somberness from the funeral disappears, replaced by a the threat of violence in the air.

"You're not allowed in here anymore, Ramirez."

I arch an eyebrow. "On whose orders?"

"Mine," he snarls.

"You have no right to bar me from the Don's home."

"The Don is dead," he states, and I catch a flicker of grief in his brown eyes.

Despite everything, Valerio was his best friend. It must have hurt to lose him. Even though he is acting like a complete fucker right now.

"Yes, I'm aware."

"With his death, I'll assume command. After all, I was his underboss."

A wry laugh escapes me. "It's almost like you want me to send you to an early grave, Sebastian. You have no right to assume command."

He scoffs. "And you think you do, Ramirez?"

"I've been at his side for most of my life, loyal to him. He wanted me to become Don after his death. That is something you and other members of the council heard several times. Valerio trusted me. His last words were to me," I state.

Sebastian cocks his head to the side. "And what pray tell, were those last words?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I toss back.

His brown eyes turn furious, and he moves forward like he's about to punch me. Vlad shifts subtly to my front, halting Sebastian's approach. Sebastian might be a big guy as well, but Vlad's a fucking giant. One that's very skilled in combat. It would be stupid to provoke him.

His eyes flick from my guard back to me. My expression is still as steady as it was when we began this conversation. I stare at Sebastian like he's nothing more than a pesky fly. He looks at me like he would murder me the first chance he gets. And I know without a doubt that's true.

"You will never be Don!" he spits.

I tilt my shoulder up in a lazy shrug. "Who's going to stop me?"

Sebastian's lips tilt up in a cruel smirk. "A few battles won and you think of yourself as invincible, boy . When in truth, you're nothing. Simply a bastard, an orphan with no roots. You have no place among us. It'll be a cold, hard day in hell the day I subject myself to your rule."

I flick an eyebrow up. His words are like a cold hard lash against my chest, but I pretend they don't bother me. At any rate, they're fucking hypocritical and wrong. Like me, Sebastian is also a bastard, an orphan with no roots. He might claim to be Italian, but there's no way of proving that.

And I'm not a fucking bastard. I had parents, and I had roots. They might have long disappeared, but I had them.

"You will submit, Sebastian. Or you'll die. It's as easy as that," I state.

He glares, swearing at me in Italian. "Fuck you, Ramirez."

His words are strangely reminiscent of the text Aurora sent. And now that I'm thinking about that, I'm thinking about her. She's the next step now that Valerio's funeral is over. My next step. Sebastian turns around to leave, his men rallying around him.

I can't resist the urge to get in one last jab.

"Hey, Seb," I call out. "You want to know what Valerio's last words were? He said to tell you that you're a little shit."

Those words are the trigger I knew they'd be. He advances at me, his men crying out in outrage. My men rally around me as well. Sebastian throws the first punch at Vlad's face. My guard's face reels back once before he shoves Sebastian. And that's all it takes for pandemonium to break out.

I take a few steps backward, watching as fistfights break out between the men. No one brings out any guns. In respect of Valerio, I'm sure. Killing someone mere hours after the Don's death would be distasteful.

I feel his presence at my side before I even look at him. Adrian has been doing a good job of staying away from me these past few days. Maybe because he knew I was liable to shoot him for the stunt he pulled with Aurora. And for placing a spy among my men. I found the asshole the day after I realized he had one. And then I killed him and shipped Adrian his eye.

Adrian currently has a placating expression on his face and I arch an eyebrow at his hands, which are raised in surrender.

"I come in peace," he states, green eyes twinkling, "And I'll throw in an apology if that sates your anger."

"Fuck your apology," I mutter, my gaze moving back to the fight.

Sebastian has disappeared. I catch sight of him at the back of the group, his eyes still filled with rage as he watches, just as I'm doing. Made men don't get involved in fights like this. Regardless of the fact that he's the one that started it. We let the capos continue, watching as they give in to the bloodlust they all seem to carry within them at all times.

"You did that," Adrian says from beside me, gesturing at the open courtyard.

I blow out a breath. "I didn't do anything."

"Your claim is already fraying at the edges of the carefully constructed order in the outfit. I'd wager this is the first fight out of many to come. At least until we find ourselves a Don."

A muscle tics in my jaw. "This wouldn't be happening if it wasn't for fucking Sebastian."

"Sebastian is an old man with pure-blooded ideas who carries a lot of hate in his heart. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants."

"And you think I will."

"No. If anything, I know you'll fight harder than him. Which is why I'm here to offer you my assistance. Wanna be friends?"

He stretches a hand toward me. I'm suddenly filled with the urge to punch his face, wiping off that irritating grin he always seems to sport.

"I don't trust you, Adrian. And I don't need you."

He flicks an eyebrow up. "I know you're not stupid, so that can't be it. You need me, Ramirez. You need allies if you hope to ascend to the throne. Despite what you may believe, you can't do it alone. Out of the five of us that sit at the Don's table, I'm your best bet. Sebastian fucking hates you. Marco will likely cast his dice later in the game, when he has a clear view of who's going to win. He won't support you, and he won't support Sebastian. Not now."

He's right. Marco left as soon as the funeral was over. He hasn't said a word about this predicament we've found ourselves in. The old man's a slimy eel. His loyalty is to himself. He'll do anything to survive, and that includes not picking a side in a war that could likely bury us all.

"You'd have better luck convincing Marco to support you than you would getting The Shadow to show himself," Adrian continues. "Which means you've only got me, Ramirez."

The way he says that grates on my nerves. Like he wants me to depend on him.

"I still don't trust you, Rossi," I state simply.

"You could learn to. Come on, do you not understand the basics of a friendship?"

"I don't need friends. And I already have a plan in place."

Adrian smiles. "Yes, that plan. How long do you think it'll take Sebastian to realize you're going after Valerio's daughters?"

"It doesn't matter. By the time he realizes it, I'll have won."

"Okay then. If I were you, I'd get on with my plans and fast. Time's ticking, Ramirez."

He doesn't have to tell me twice. I straighten, leaving his side and heading to the middle of the courtyard.

"Enough," I say in a steady voice that carries.

My men immediately listen. Sebastian's men look to him for directions, and he lifts a hand to halt them as well. My eyes connect with Vlad, and I nod once. He steps towards me, and after one last glance at Sebastian, we leave.

Time to pay the princess a visit.

"Station two men at every warehouse we have under our control. Make sure they have their guard up at all times. If Sebastian wants to attack, he'll go for the warehouses first," I tell Vlad.

He nods once from the front seat before grabbing his phone to deliver my message. Every made man has a purpose within the outfit. It's an organization, after all—we all have roles to play. And my role involves controlling the chain of supply and demand. Alcohol, drugs, weapons, everything has to go through me. That's the power I wield. And taking all that away is the same as cutting off my legs.

A fact that Sebastian and every made man is aware of.

"Tell me who's on our side and who's not," I prompt, scrolling through the tablet in my hand.

The profile of every man hired under the organization is listed there. The ones powerful enough to make a difference, that is.

"Giovanni's already going around making claims that he should be the next Don. Apparently, his great-grandfather was Don or some bullshit like that," Vlad states.

I smirk. "That's cute. Kill him."

Vlad doesn't hesitate to agree. Giovanni's always been a useless drunk who spends all his time gambling away his family's fortune. He won't be missed.

"Camila's asked for a meeting."

That causes me to arch an eyebrow. Camila is Marco's niece. She oversees a number of clubs and bars, which serve as a front for the illegal parts of our business. We also do most of our laundering through her. Which makes her an asset.

"Whose side do you think she's on?"

Vlad served in the army alongside Camila's husband, Lukas. They're friends, or at least friendly.

"I don't know, boss. Lukas has no sway over his wife's decision."

I roll my eyes. Of course, he doesn't. The six-foot-four Russian is hopelessly in love with Camila and would do anything to protect her. He can be likened to a bulldog when it comes to his wife.

"All right then. I guess I'll take up on her offer for a meeting. Tell her to come to the compound at six p.m. in two days."

Vlad turns around to look at me, a question in his brown eyes.

"Sir, Sebastian was very clear about you not having access to the compound."

I flick an eyebrow up. "And you think I'm going to listen to that asshole?"

"I think it would be smart not to exacerbate the issue without a clear path to victory," Vlad says, offering his sage advice.

I smile. "Don't worry, Vlad. I don't plan on walking into that compound on my own."

We finally arrive in front of the high-rise apartment. It's late in the evening. I should have gotten here yesterday, but there was an important issue I had to deal with first. Khalil finds a parking space before turning off the car. Vlad is still looking at me.

"You plan to return with her on your arm," he guesses accurately.

"Of course."

"But sir, according to you, she has no idea what your plans are. How do you intend to convince her?"

I set the tablet down, my eyes meeting his.

"Let me tell you something interesting about Aurora Maranzano," I begin, fixing the cuffs of my shirt. "She's incapable of backing down from a challenge, and she always does whatever it takes to get what she wants. Also, she hates my fucking guts. Now, what do you think a woman like that is going to do when she hears my proposal?"

"Refuse?" Vlad guesses.

I shake my head. "She's certainly going to try. But in all her twenty-eight years of existence, do you know the only person who's ever won against her?" I ask, answering the question in my next breath, "Me."

My gaze moves over to Khalil. "Where is she?"

"According to Danny, she left work thirty minutes ago. She should be home soon."

I take that information in with a nod.

"Wait here," I tell them both before stepping out of the car. No one stops me as I head inside the lobby and request a keycard that grants me access to all the floors of the building.

I'm not sure if Aurora is aware that the owner of this building has had a lot of business dealings with Valerio in the past. He owes a lot of money to the outfit, which means I can do whatever the fuck I want, and no one here can question me.

I take the elevator to Aurora's floor, stopping at her front door. I could let myself into her house. I know her passcode. She didn't try very hard to hide it from me when I visited the other day. But I'm going to respect her boundaries on that front, at least.

When she finally arrives a minute or two later, she doesn't even look surprised to see me. Those fierce brown eyes don't blink as she walks toward me. Her strides are purposeful, the sound of the sharp click of her heels filling the hallway.

I watch her approach, her body moving with an elegance that's consuming my every thought. She walks with the grace and confidence of someone used to having the world at her feet, someone who considers everyone else to be insignificant. It's magnetizing. Ten years have done nothing to dull the intense pull of Aurora Maranzano for me.

She stops a few feet from me, disdain in her expression.

"Oh look, the rat's crawled out of the shadows once again," she taunts.

I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of rising to the bait. She wants me to get angry, she wants to push me to the brink. Once upon a time, she was the only person who could manage that feat, but not anymore. I won't allow it.

"We need to talk," I inform her.

Aurora crosses her arms over her chest, her gaze unwavering. "What do you want from me?"

"What I want is simple, Aurora. I want you to marry me."

It fills me with immense satisfaction when her brown eyes fill with shock. She stumbles back a step, and horror fills her expression.

"What?"