18. Bella

18

BELLA

I sit at the kitchen table, watching Nic make notes and plans. My body still tingles from our intimate encounter earlier. Who would have thought that being stuck in a cabin during a snowstorm with a Mafia underboss could lead to such pleasure?

But when I woke up from my nap alone, I began to second-guess everything. I didn’t regret letting Nic touch me, but I wondered what it all meant. Especially when I found him plotting revenge on his father like nothing had happened to us. But that’s what sex is like for men like him, right? It doesn’t mean anything.

He's made it clear that once this is over, I'll be sent away, whether it’s back to my father, to Ava, or on my own. At least he’s giving me a choice, although that choice doesn’t include staying with him.

The ache in my chest at that thought tells me I'm too invested, too enamored. Of course I've developed a crush on him. He's handsome, dangerous, and he's shown me pleasure I’ve never experienced before.

Heat rises to my cheeks as I remember his hands on my body. But that's all it was, a physical attraction and my naive heart latching onto the first man who's shown me real attention. My crush on him is just that—a crush. Something to look back on years from now and smile about. It'll make a good story someday, nothing more.

I need to stop acting like some lovesick teenager. Stop reading meaning into every touch, every look. I'm not stupid. I know how these things work.

The way he talks about my "freedom" after this is over makes it crystal clear that I'm a responsibility to him, a problem to solve. Maybe he feels guilty about almost delivering me to his monster of a father. Maybe he even feels protective of me. But love? Partnership? Those aren't even possibilities in his mind.

I force myself to think practically about my future. If I go to Ava, I'll have protection through the D'Amatos. If I strike out on my own, I’ll have to find work and figure out how to adult on my own. That scares me a bit because there’s so much I don’t know, and yet, the idea of living my own life, making my own choices even if they’re bad ones, is exciting.

I think about Ava again and realize she would have heard about the attempt on our lives and how we’re missing.

I clear my throat. "Can I call Ava to let her know I'm safe?"

Nic's head snaps up, his dark eyes narrowing. "No calls to anyone. We don't know who we can trust."

"But she's my sister." I wrap my arms around myself, feeling the chill of his rejection. "The D'Amatos could help us."

"The D'Amatos are part of The Outfit. Your sister's loyalty is to her husband's family now." He returns to his notes. "For all we know, they could be working with my father."

"Ava would never betray me." My voice cracks. Growing up, Ava was more than just my sister. She was my protector, my confidante. The thought of not being able to reach out to her makes my chest ache.

“She might not have a choice. As you’ve reminded me, women have little knowledge or power in the family.”

He’s right, and yet my sense of the D’Amatos is that they respect their women. Lana D’Amato Lutz works in the family business. Ava makes it sound like her ideas are heard by her husband, Matteo.

I cross my arms. I’m probably pouting. “She might have information about my father’s business.”

Nic's expression softens slightly, but his words remain firm. "We can't risk it. The D’Amatos have an alliance with your father. They could be a part of this."

I nod, blinking back tears. I hate this new reality of being cut off from everyone I love, unable to trust even my own family.

I shake my head. “Not the sick stuff your father does.”

He arches a brow. “How do you know? Your father controls a dock… traffics drugs and guns, and probably people.”

My eyes widen. “People?”

“I’m sure that’s what my father’s interest in your father’s business is.”

The idea that anyone in my family would be a part of kidnapping and selling people makes me sick. I think back to the call I overheard.

“Your niece?”

Nic's jaw tightens. He sets down his pen and meets my eyes. "My father hasn’t met a woman or child he won’t sell.”

I swallow. “And me?” Surely, his father treated his wives better than that.

“You, he’d save for his friends… well, not anymore. Not after I’ve tainted you.”

“Tainted?” Suddenly, I feel small, like nothing.

“That’s how he’d see it.”

I want to be sick. I rise and go to the sink. I shake as I try to fill a glass with water.

A moment later, Nic is behind me. “Hey.” He pushes my hair aside from where it’s fallen on my face. “You’re not tainted. I didn’t mean that. It’s how he’d see it.”

For some reason, that doesn’t make me feel much better.

“I’m sorry… fuck.” He lets out a frustrated growl. “My father is a soulless man. He’s the tainted one. Sick. Not you, Bella. You’re beautiful. I won’t let his darkness touch you.”

I sip the water, wanting to lean into him, but I can’t. “When you kill your father, are you going to replace him?”

“Yes. If I’m not killed.”

I move away from him, repulsed. “So you’ll sell women and children? Me? Your niece?”

His expression turns dark. “What the fuck?” He almost looks offended.

“You just said you’d take over the business?—”

“Not that part. Fucking hell. You think that?” Now I’m sure I see pain in his eyes. “I’m not innocent, but there are lines I won't cross."

How do we get in these situations? One minute, there’s an electric, erotic snap, crackle, pop between us and the next, it’s a dark tension pushing us apart.

“I’m no monster. Fraud, money laundering, protection rackets, those are crimes against the system. But trafficking people? That's evil. Pure evil." He’s looking at me like he can’t believe I’d think he’d do something so heinous. "I don't care how much money it brings in. I don't care who I piss off. I won't be part of that. Ever."

The conviction in his words, the fire in his eyes, makes me believe him. I should be running from all of this, from him, from this world. Instead, I find myself nodding, accepting his words. He’s a criminal, but he’s not completely without a conscience.

“I’m glad.”

He eyes narrow, studying me as if he’s trying to decide whether I’m telling him the truth. He opens his mouth, and I get the sense he’s going to plead his case some more, maybe be angry at me for considering he’d engage in such activity. But then he runs his hands through his hair. “I guess I can see why you’d question me, maybe worry I’d do it to you.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t think you’d do it to me.” Which is odd if I truly questioned whether or not he’d take over his father’s trafficking business.

Again, he studies me.

“I trust you.”

He sucks in a breath like he’s surprised by my statement. “You don’t have much choice.”

“I do have a choice. You could tie me up or otherwise physically control me, but I’m in charge of whom I trust.”

He nods. “Thank you.”

For a moment, we stand staring at each other. Until it gets a bit awkward. "So, what's the actual plan? We can't stay in this cabin forever,” I say.

He leans against the counter. "That I’m still working on. Getting access to my father isn’t going to be easy. He'll have contingencies, loyal soldiers watching his back." Nic rubs his temple. "And he's already shown he's willing to sacrifice his own son. There's no telling what else he might do."

"What about your friend Max? Can he help?"

"I’m counting on it, but mostly, I need him to focus on protecting Gia and the kids. If my father suspects he's helping us…" Nic's jaw clenches. "I won't put them at risk."

I wrap my arms around myself. "So, we're on our own?"

"For now." His eyes meet mine. "I have connections, people who hate my father as much as I do. But reaching out to them is dangerous. One wrong move and?—"

"We're dead," I finish.

He nods. "I need time to figure out who we can trust, who might be willing to move against him. What I need to do is get back to New York. The longer I'm away, the more my allies may turn to my father."

I move to the window, watching fresh snow start to fall again. "Even if the roads get plowed, this storm system isn't done. It’s started snowing again."

Nic joins me at the window, his presence warm at my back. "We don't have days. Every hour I'm away from New York weakens my position."

"And every hour we're stuck here keeps us alive." I turn to face him. "You're still recovering. The roads are dangerous. If we crash or get stuck…" I let the words hang there, remembering how close he came to dying from his gunshot wound.

"I know." His jaw clenches. “But—” Before he can argue further, the lights flicker once, twice, then die completely. It’s still daytime, but with the snow falling, the room darkens significantly. The gentle hum of the heating system falls silent, leaving only the howl of wind outside.

The reality of our situation hits me. We have no power which means no heat, no light, no way to cook food. We're truly cut off now.

“I guess we need to switch focus,” he says, his voice matter of fact. It reminds me that in his world, staying calm in the face of adversity is an asset. It helps soothe my worry. “First priority is staying warm."

I turn into him, lean into his warmth. His arms come around me. Our situation has gotten worse, but here, in his arms, I feel safe. If only I could stay here forever.