CHAPTER XIX

I stepped into the limo with Mom, Lo, Matteo, and Luca. Luca’s phone chimed and he read the message. I watched his expression from where I sat across from him. Luca lifted his head and looked at me. “It’s confirmed—the men are in place.”

I gave him a curt nod in acknowledgement. With Marco’s help, we were able to locate one of the Puppet Master’s hideaway locations. We realized it wasn’t an ordinary shipment as we had been led to believe. These bastards were trafficking over a dozen women, some as young as fourteen.

We learned the Puppet Master kept the women there before he sent them to another unknown location to prepare them, then sell them. I may have been a criminal, but trafficking humans was where I crossed the line.

We’d shared the information with the other mafia leaders, and we were doubling our efforts to find and shut down more of these houses. Now that we had this new information about his operation, I had extra men working to uncover all his houses.

“Tell them to contact me immediately with updates,” I instructed Lo.

“Please don’t tell me you’re discussing work,” Mom stated calmly, glancing into her compact mirror as she adjusted her teardrop earrings.

I let out a long sigh. “You do realize who I am, Mother.”

Her eyes met mine in the mirror, a mixture of pride and concern flickering across her face. “Yes, Nico, I haven’t forgotten. But for just one night, can you please set aside that title and just be my son?”

Lo scoffed. “Come on, Mom. Nico doesn’t have vacation days. It’s who he is and who he is meant to be.”

I inhaled deeply. “Mother, you know I can’t.”

“I understand that, but maybe tonight, we can just pretend. For me?”

I ran a hand down my tie, the fabric taut against my chest. “You know I’d do anything for you, but I can’t ignore my responsibilities.”

Her eyes softened. “That may be true, but let it be just us tonight. A mother and her sons.”

“I understand, Mom, but I need you to understand something too. I can’t afford to be anything but vigilant.”

Her eyes flickered with understanding and sadness, yet she held my gaze. “I know, Nico. But remember, even a king must find a moment to break free from the heavy chains our world places upon him.”

“Fine,” I relented, my resolve slipping just a fraction. “Just for you, Mother.”

A grin broke through her serious demeanor. “That’s all I ask.”

The remainder of the drive to the event was spent in silence, each of us lost in our thoughts.

Finally, we pulled up to the grand entrance of the Waldorf Astoria. As the engine quieted, Miguel exited the driver’s seat and Enzo the passenger side. The valet, an older man with a neatly pressed uniform and a name tag that read “Jefferey,” opened my door with a courteous nod.

“Welcome, sir,” he said.

“Hello, Jefferey,” I replied, stepping out of the car just as Lo emerged from the opposite side. I took a moment to adjust my suit, smoothing down the fabric before extending my hand to my mother. She took it, gracefully and stepped out of the vehicle.

“Good evening, Mrs. Moretti,” Jefferey greeted her.

“Good evening, Jefferey. Thank you,” she responded with a smile.

“Are you ready?” I asked as I offered my arm to her.

She nodded, her grip firm as she looped her arm through mine, Lo standing protectively beside her. As we began our ascent toward the entrance, flashes erupted from the crowd outside, cameras capturing our every move. Miguel and Enzo fell into step with me, scanning the surroundings, staying alert.

We stepped into the Sinclair’s ballroom, surrounded by walls draped in silk. The soft luminescence of hand-blown glass and crystal chandeliers illuminated the space.

Each table was a masterpiece of sophistication, with white linens and lavish floral arrangements held in towering vases. Even the chairs were dressed in finely tailored chair covers, each elegantly knotted with a bow. Not a single detail was overlooked.

Mom kissed me and Lo on the cheek and left to join a group of her friends.

“I need a fucking drink,” Lo muttered under his breath, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his tuxedo jacket. He tipped his chin up when he saw Luca and Matteo at the bar.

I glanced around the room, looking for the only person I was interested in seeing. Mya appeared, stopped midway to me, and appeared to take in my expression. She was probably feeling out if it was safe for her to approach. When I gave her the slightest smirk, her face transformed into a grin as she made her way toward me.

“Nico,” she said coyly. She looked radiant in an elegant off-the-shoulder black dress.

“Mya,” I responded, my tone flat.

“Didn’t think you were going to make it.”

I side eyed her. “Why wouldn’t I be here?” Of course I would show up when my little spit fire was around here somewhere.

She didn’t say anything, and when a server stopped and offered a glass of champagne, I took one and handed another to Mya.

“Can’t,” she declined, waving it away. “I can’t drink on the job.”

The server walked away, and I went back to search for my girl. I finally spotted her, and I couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off my face.

“Jesus, Nico,” Mya murmured, “Don’t look so predatory, for fuck’s sake.”

My eyebrows raised in surprise. She placed a kiss on my cheek. “Behave,” she said, amusement dancing in her eyes.

Now, back to the task at hand.

* * *

WINTER

“Stop fussing,” Holly, one of the contractor servers, whispered at me while I tugged onto my collar, trying to loosen it to find some relief. The white blouse was buttoned all the way up to my chin, and the tie felt like a noose. I could barely breathe, and I let out a frustrated groan. And these damn black slacks clung to my legs like paste.

My ballet flats pinched my feet with every step. I shifted my weight, trying to find some comfort, but it was hopeless.

“Come on,” Holly said. “We have to walk around with the hors d’oeuvres.”

I followed her into the kitchen and saw several trays laid out on the quartz countertops, with several different appetizers on each tray.

Holly grabbed the tray with some fancy bread. “You take this one.” She gestured at another tray.

Of course, I got slimy food—fish. Or whatever it was. It glistened with a sheen that looked like a snail’s wet dream. I grimaced; the sight alone was enough to send my stomach into a mini revolt.

“What is this?” I crinkled my nose when I got a whiff of...something.

“That’s octopus.”

I gaped at her. “Are you serious?”

Oh, my God, I was going to vomit. I just wanted to know why I couldn’t serve something normal, like a meatball.

“Let’s go,” she said, ignoring my reaction.

I hoisted the tray with my slimy friends squirming away on it onto my shoulder, and it teetered dangerously as I struggled to keep it steady. A slight tremor ran through me, sending a few pieces of octopus wiggling across the tray.

“What are you doing?” Holly hissed, her eyes narrowing like she was trying to shoot lasers at me. “Don’t spill it!”

“I’m trying not to,” I retorted, sarcasm dripping from my words. “But I’m also not a giraffe, Holly. Ever heard of a little thing called height?”

Holly rolled her eyes. “Just follow my lead. You’ve got the left side of the room. And remember to come back every so often before you start running low.”

“Got it.” I took a deep breath, adjusting the tray as I shuffled away. A couple of the octopus pieces decided it was their moment, sliding around like they were auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance .

Gripping the tray tightly for dear life, I focused on keeping the food steady to avoid spilling it on someone’s expensive dress or suit, which would likely be worth more than my rent.

Without saying a word, I held out the tray with the dead fish, and to my surprise, several people reached out to take one.

“Gross,” I muttered under my breath, scrunching my nose.

“Not a fan?” I heard a familiar voice behind me say. I turned around to find Preston standing there, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

The mayor’s son.

“No, I’m not,” I replied, forcing a smile. This guy gave me the creeps with the way he stared at me like he was undressing me with his eyes.

Preston leaned in slightly, his eyes sparkling. “Well, speaking of brave, did you know octopuses are predators? They stalk and ambush their favorite foods.” He looked me up and down and circled around me like I was his prey.

“Would you like one?” I asked, trying to end this uncomfortable conversation.

His grin widened. “I prefer my food a bit more... alive.”

Our eyes locked for a moment, and I felt the kind of tension that made the air feel thicker—in a bad way. A very bad way.

He licked his lips, and I took a step back, crashing into a chest that was hard like concrete. The impact jolted me, and I held onto the tray to prevent it from falling. I turned, and there he was—Nico, his glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

Preston’s lips curled into a fake grin. “Nico.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than flirt with the help?” Nico let out a dark growl. His jaw was clenched tight, muscles taut with barely suppressed fury, radiating heat like a raging inferno.

Help? Wow, what a way to win a girl’s heart , I thought bitterly.

Preston straightened, the smirk on his face practically oozing arrogance. “Just chatting, Nico. No harm in that, right?” His bravado faltered as Nico wrapped a protective arm around my waist and pulled me back until I was nestled firmly behind him. I tried to hold onto my slimy friends before they slithered away onto the floor.

Preston shot Nico a tight smile. “I’ll see you around, sweetheart,” he purred, the words dripping with a promise

“No, you won’t,” Nico interjected sharply, his voice a cold, hard blade that sliced through the moment.

Just then, a server glided by with a tray of drinks, and Preston seized one. “Have a good night,” he called out, tipping his drink to us with feigned cheer. But the glint in his eyes was anything but friendly as he walked away.

Nico stood, rigid, his gaze following Preston until the man disappeared into the crowd. I could feel the storm brewing within him, a violent cyclone of protectiveness and simmering anger, and I knew this wasn’t over. Nico spun around, his eyes flashing with an assertiveness that made my heart race. He leaned in closer, his warm breath ghosting over my neck. “I don’t ever want to see you talking to him again,” he hissed, his voice charged with a mix of anger and something I couldn’t identify.

“He came to me, not the other way around.” The words escaped my lips before I could think through them. I suddenly felt breathless, like I needed a defibrillator just to stay upright.

“Don’t fucking care. Just stay the fuck away from him,” he growled, his words reverberating against my skin, igniting a spark of fear and excitement. I could barely keep the tray in my hands, my fingers trembling as I fought the urge to flee. I waited for him to pull away. When he finally did, it was like a rush of oxygen flooded my lungs.

He cast a quick glance over my shoulder, as if he was being summoned. A curt nod acknowledged whoever called him before his eyes fixed back on me. “Don’t defy me, Winter.”

With that, he strode away, leaving me standing there, reeling.

What the hell just happened?