25. Nic

25

NIC

F uck!

I refuse to feel guilty for yelling at her. She put us at risk. For what? She’s bored? She called Ava. After everything I've done to keep us safe, she risked it all for a phone call. I understand loneliness. But this isn't about being lonely. This is about trust. I trusted her to follow my lead, to understand the gravity of our situation.

I walk past the room she’s hiding in and head downstairs. I’m starving. When I arrived home, I was looking forward to a good meal. Maybe some sex. That plan is shot to hell.

I open the refrigerator and pull out the leftover lasagna Bella made last night. As I cut a piece and put it in the microwave, guilt grows. It can’t be easy being cooped up all day. Especially alone.

I drop into a chair at the kitchen table. The house feels emptier with her in the other room. These past weeks, I've gotten used to her presence. Even when I'm out working on plans to take down my father, knowing she's here waiting makes everything feel… different. Better.

She’s young , I remind myself. Young and sheltered. Her expression—hurt, defensive, those gray eyes filling with tears she refused to let fall—replays in my mind. Maybe I overreacted. The logical part of my brain suspects that Ava won’t betray Bella. They’re like me and Gia or me and Max. The love is genuine.

Still, one slip is all it takes to end our lives. One traced call, one loose word to the wrong person… I can't protect Bella if she won't let me, won't trust me.

I laugh bitterly at myself. Trust? When I keep pushing her away? When I treat her like a child one minute and take her to bed the next? I’m probably lucky she hasn’t walked out the door and left me behind. The fact that she hasn’t suggests she does trust me.

The microwave pings. I get up to get my food, but my hunger is gone as I realize that I'm acting like my father—controlling, angry, unforgiving. I should go up and apologize but warn her again of the dangers.

No . I shake my head. I can’t let whatever the fuck my dick or heart feels dictate my life. These feelings, this connection, are all a distraction from what needs to be done. My father is out there, still threatening Gia and her children, planning my demise, still corrupting everything he touches. I need to end him for the good of all humanity.

With my plate of lasagna, I sit at the table and review what I learned today through Mickey and his connections. My father has scheduled a meeting with Don Caruso, the head of The Chicago Outfit. The meeting will take place at my father’s warehouse near the docks in Buffalo in two weeks. Apparently, they’ll be negotiating my father’s larger involvement in their trafficking business. He wants to move some of his girls through the Great Lakes. Like a fucking cruise ship, he envisions stops in Cleveland, Detroit, and even taking some to Canada. Mother fucking pervert.

What I don’t know is what Caruso is thinking by taking this meeting. Has Caruso burned Rinella? Or did Caruso okay this as restitution to my father and Rinella’s punishment for trying to kill me? Is Caruso so dumb as to buy that? A man doesn’t get to be the head of The Outfit by being easily duped.

The best news is that security will be minimal at the dock as part of the negotiation for the meet. That doesn’t mean my father won’t have an army nearby, but if he’s got fewer men close to him, that could be my opportunity to take him out. I just need to be there and do the deed before Caruso arrives. I don’t want to get into a firefight with him and my father.

I have to consider that I won’t make it. If I die, that leaves Bella alone. I need to arrange her escape route in advance. I know I can trust Max with taking care of Bella just like I trust him with Gia. I make a list of all she’ll need—protection, a new identity, money, transportation. I rub my chest at the ache there.

Next I turn my attention to dealing with my father, making a list of men I want with me. With my father's eyes everywhere, it’s been difficult to communicate with my men since technically, they're my father’s men. But I’d brought them in and I know they’re loyal to me first.

As my lasagna gets cold, I check my weapon and think about how satisfying it will be to watch the life drain from my father, taking over his business and running it as a business, not a way to support a sick hobby.

This is who I am. I’m not some love-struck fool playing house. Once my father's gone, I'll set Bella free to live whatever life she wants.

I let out a breath, telling myself my life will be back to normal. No, it will be better because Gia and the kids will be safe. I’ll be back to focusing on work and not at the mercy of my dick.

My heart tells me I’m a liar.

I clear away my untouched lasagna and go to the area I’ve set up as an office to solidify my plans. It’s late when I head upstairs. The bed is empty, and I have a moment of panic thinking Bella escaped just like she tried to do from the cabin. I check the other bedroom and find her sleeping. I’m relieved and at the same time shamed. She’s here because I hurt her.

But maybe this is for the best. Our time together is coming to an end. It’s clear I have no willpower to avoid her, so her being pissed at me, avoiding me, is ideal. It will be easier to move on when this is all said and done.

Letting her sleep, I return to my room, taking off my clothes and climbing into bed in just my boxer briefs. This is nice having all this room in the bed to spread out. Oh, who am I kidding? It’s fucking cold in this bed alone.