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NICU
What in the hell is she doing at the Popescus’?I seethed to myself. Just when I thought I was getting somewhere with Jewel, she threw me another curveball.
Jewel was close to Cat, so it only stood to reason she’d visit, especially since Cat had taken Jewel in over the years. While I wasn’t thrilled about her visiting the Popescus, I was pissed that she’d lied to me about it.
It was irrational, but I was doubly pissed that my own brother had driven her here. Another thorn in my side was how well Luca got along with Nelu, that cocksucking prick. As the ?ef of the Popescu clan and Cristo’s father, I hated him on principle. Over the years, the man had tried to undermine my family like it was his one motive in life. He was a snake in the grass.
Alex had specifically told me to back off when I got on Luca’s case about the time he spent with Cat’s family. He told me it was part of the peace, that it was a good sign, and that he was getting from Nelu what he couldn’t get from our own father. Yeah, good luck with that, I thought bitterly.
Maybe, just maybe, Nelu was getting a little soft in his old age and after the death of his beloved consilier, Simu, but there was no doubt Cristo remained the worst of the lot.
How did I know Jewel was at Cat’s house?
Because of the tracker in her motherfucking phone. That’s how. She already knew I’d messed with it, but I didn’t think she knew everything I’d done. I was in a teleconference with Tatum and Sebastian, who were out in Cali, trying to wrangle the Hagi clan into submission, when I saw the tracker device moving downtown. I got alarmed when I saw it cross the East River into Queens. Where the fuck is she going?
When I saw the address, my head nearly exploded. It was the shock more than anything, but the energy in my body surged. Once my call was done, I drove like a madman to see what the hell was going on. I was currently outside their house, down the street some ways to stay out of range of their cameras. Thank fuck I had a pair of binoculars in my car.
And what the fuck did I see through the big bay window of the living room? Jewel and Cristo siting close to each other on a sofa, all chummy. Fuck. I was so going to redden her ass.
She raised a glass of red wine to her lips. Goddamn, she was drinking, too. If last time was any indication of what happened when she drank, this was setting up to be a clusterfuck of a night. My fists trembled with barely restrained violence. Regardless of her conduct, there was no way I’d allow my girl to get pawed at by that fucking little Popescu prick. My blood was boiling, and the tension in my neck, jaw, and fists told me I was swirling around the top of a spiraling maelstrom, but it was too late to step away. The time to stop was before I’d hopped in my car and jetted across the Queensboro Bridge. I was here now, and I wasn’t budging. Unless it was to pull Jewel out of there.
Jewel tossed her head back with a laugh, baring her beautiful long neck to Cristo.
I ground down on my back teeth. This was unacceptable. She was supposed to tell Cat about us this afternoon. We were supposed to meet up later, go out to dinner at a restaurant of my choosing, where I was going to show her off. Then I was bringing her home. Fuck, I was supposed to be balls-deep inside her later tonight.
And I had every intention of making that happen.
But instead of being at my side at the French restaurant in Tribeca where every high-level mafie boss went to eat, she was sitting beside that little asswipe. Earlier, she’d sent me a text telling me she was eating out with Cat and that she’d catch me later.
Oh, yeah?
From my viewpoint, Cat and Luca were nowhere to be found. No supervision of Cristo and Jewel. If that had been a mafie girl, Bunica would’ve been forced to chaperone. The tension in my head increased tenfold. I could feel every cell in my body, hell, every atom, start rumbling and colliding into each other, building pressure and more pressure.
I felt a prick of betrayal that Luca wasn’t there, at the very least. Of course, he probably didn’t know about me and Jewel. Then again, perhaps he did. If Jewel had told Cat, then there was a strong possibility he knew as well. If that was the case, leaving Jewel alone with my nemesis was unforgivable.
Cristo leaned in a little closer to Jewel. I swear he was scenting her. I narrowed my eyes into the binoculars to get a better look, but to no avail. Oh, she had a truly painful lesson on the menu tonight.
My jaw clenched hard enough to snap in half, my grip around the binoculars so tight I was surprised they didn’t bend. I could feel the savagery taking over.
It had taken over, in periodic episodes, until my father’s death. After letting it run its course during that bloody summer of revenge, I’d learned to lock it away, only letting it out while riding or flying. There were a few slips, like when I’d fucked Cristo’s girl, but otherwise, I’d learned to tame my impulses. The mafie life had taught me how, but that didn’t meant it wasn’t a struggle. A struggle I was getting perilously close to losing.
For the first time since my father’s death, I was unraveling. It was coming on me in a wave of blood red, and it was bad.
Cristo placed his hand on Jewel’s shoulder while simultaneously pushing her long hair back. Now he was touching her hair. I’m going to fucking kill him. My control was slipping by the second. All the mechanisms I’d developed over the years to restrain myself vanished. Counting numbers? Fuck that. Counting backward? Hell, no. Leave the area, take a walk, get out of the situation? No, no, and no. Do a body scan and release tense muscles? Yeah, that one never worked for me, anyway.
There was only one thing to do, one idea that kept battering at my overheated brain on repeat: go get her. Go. Get. Her. Fucking go and get her the hell away from him.
Before I knew it, the binoculars were tossed into the gutter and I was stalking toward the Popescu house. Purposefully striding up the stairs to their front door, I went through the various options. Ring the doorbell? Knock on the door? Kick the door in?
Hmm, tough choice.
Not.
Kick the door in, it is.
I reached the top, pulled my torso back and karate-chopped the front door. Wood splintered. Metal bent inward. The door flung open, slammed against the wall, and bounced back into my face. I halted its forward momentum with the palm of my hand and stomped into the foyer.
In a trance, I was in the living room.
