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The drive to the Costa estate outside city limits was longer than I expected. Or maybe it just felt longer because Nico’s grip on the steering wheel was so tight that his knuckles looked like white stars.
I realized I’d only ever heard him speak to his brother, Gabe, on the phone. I knew he had two other brothers, younger. Both of his parents were still alive. But he never spoke with them, at least not in the time I spent with him.
As we pulled up the long winding drive of the Costa estate to the tall Greek Revival-style mansion with its impressive columns reminiscent of the Parthenon, a knot of fear began to churn in my stomach. Not only was this my last evening with Nico, but I was spending it in the home of Lorenzo Costa.Was I freaking crazy?But when Nico’s forest-green eyes met the tumultuous waters in mine, the storm calmed. I was safe.
I laughed in my head. It was a strange feeling to feel safer than I’ve ever been with Nico Costa—of all people. The tabloids would beg to differ.
“It’s not too late to back out,” he said, shifting the car into park at the top of the drive. His voice was light, but there was a seriousness in his gaze.
If I told him I wanted to leave, what would he do? Would he take me somewhere he and I could be alone for the night? My core tingled at the memory of his flesh against mine; the hole inside me seemed to open even wider, as if waiting to be filled. The craving was intense, consuming.Carnal.
I glanced at Nico, tilting my head to the left. I was also curious about the pieces that made up the puzzle next to me.
“I’m good.” I nodded at him.
He held my gaze for a moment longer. Behind his eyes were a murky haze that I couldn’t make out. Seldom did he let anyone see right through him, always keeping his thoughts close to the vest.
I felt like I had a face made of glass in comparison to him. It was a wonder he didn’t see right through every lie I’d ever told.Guess he was too distracted,I thought with a smirk.
“All right, let’s do this,” he said, getting out of the car and coming around to open my door just as the front door of the mansion opened.
I recognized the man who stood in the doorway right away. Even if I hadn’t seen pictures of him in newspapers, I would have known who he was. Gabriel. He looked like Nico, but a bit younger and a little less lethal. Something about his easy posture, maybe. But while it could have been any one of his brothers—they all bore a great deal of similarity—it was the friendly smile he wore for Nico that gave him away. I felt an instant pull to him.
“Nico.” He came down the steps to meet us in front of the car. He clapped Nico on the back while some sort of silent communication passed between them. Then he turned to me. “You must be Raven,” he said with a warm smile.
It was the kind of smile Nico reserved for people like Antonio and me, but Gabe seemed to flash it indiscriminately.
“And you must be Gabe,” I said, smiling easily while he took my hand and grasped it between both of his.
“So, my brother has been talking about me, has he? Don’t believe a word he’s said. I guarantee you every one of them is a lie,” Gabe quipped.
I laughed. “Nico hasn’t said a bad word about you.”
In truth, Nico had said very few words about Gabe or any other member of his family except to say they weren’t the ordinary dysfunctional family. Funny that I knew so much about him and so little at the same time.
“If you two are done talking about me like I’m not here,” Nico said, motioning toward the stairs.
He didn’t look the least bit disgruntled, but the energy that came from him had changed. Or maybe intensified. He was definitely uncomfortable.
“Well then, step right up and come on in, ladies and gentlemen. The show is about to begin,” Gabe said, gesturing grandly.
I didn’t miss the irritated glare Nico shot him right before he took my hand and started up the steps.
Just before we reached the top, more bodies appeared in the doorway.
Two younger versions of Nico eyed us curiously. They stood side by side, wearing their inherited features well, the same green eyes Nico and Gabe had dilated.
Standing rigidly by the side was a much older version of the Costa boys. He wore neither the young ones’ wide gaze nor Gabe’s easy smile. His mouth was the mix of purple and black, coiled into a permanent grimace. Uneven stubble docked below it along with a scar across his neck and jaw.
Life had turned Lorenzo Costa ugly to the core.
The three Costas stepped back, and Nico led me inside into a grand foyer with lustrous Italian marble floors and an ornate crystal chandelier in front of an imperial staircase. What struck me more than the rich architecture were the flowers.
They were everywhere. Mostly roses, in crystal vases of all different sizes. The floral perfume wafted lightly in the air, a surprisingly delicate scent despite the plethora of blooms.
“Lorenzo,” Nico said as Gabe closed the door behind them. “This is Raven Ferrari.”
Nico clenched his jaw, the hard-set of it visible beneath his skin.
