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Nico
Goddamit! I pound my fist on the Corian countertop in my bathroom. Hard. Hard enough to make me think I might have fractured something in my hand from the impact.
Two days had passed since Shaye had invaded my life, yet again. I knew she’d come to the funeral. And I knew I needed to get her alone, to make things right. But as usual, I fucked it all up. This time, beyond repair.
For all of the luxuries this life affords me, it’s forced me to give up so much…too much, and for once, I just wanted to know what it felt like to have it all.
I did, and it was fucking incredible. Somehow, though, I need to get back to my reality because the dream of having the perfect life with the one girl who my soul can’t seem to function without? It’ll turn into a nightmare faster than a bullet will hit me between the eyes if I don’t give her up once and for all.
I didn’t give her a reason to come back. In fact, I’d given her every reason to stay away.
But she couldn’t.
And neither could I.
I squeeze my eyes shut to block the image of her creeping into my bedroom the other night. I’d tried to keep my attention on that damned football, anything to keep myself from wandering over to her. The girl I’d loved for as long as I could remember. The girl I’d wanted more than anyone else. The girl I could never have.
I’d lured her to my house with a bullshit excuse, and when she snuck into view, one glimpse was all I needed to jump her fucking bones and rocket her into oblivion. It’s what I’d been fantasizing about since that night before she’d left for school.
It was too dangerous then, and even more so now.
I could have nailed fifty other chicks, but I let Shaye wiggle her sexy ass under my skin. Then I pounded it with everything I had, emptying my entire soul into her.
The tiny drops of blood streaking my bed sheet screamed major fuck up on my part, and I couldn’t get her out of my house fast enough. Christ, I’d thought she was just tense because it was our first time, not her first fucking time. She was a virgin, and I took that away from her. Yanked it away with my suppressed lust-induced rage for everything I’m dealing with right now. I ruined her, and then I kicked her out of my house, living up to my prick-ass reputation.
The very reputation I’d warned her about a very long time ago to keep her safe.
My iPhone blares from my nightstand. I slam open the bathroom door and lunge for it, tripping over a baseball bat laying on my floor. Regrettably, baseballs aren’t the only thing I’ve hit with it.
“Hey, Dad.” I rake a hand through my damp hair and search a drawer for a clean t-shirt.
“Nico, I need you to get over to my office. We need to talk. Now.”
My brow furrows. “Okay, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Make it ten.” Click.
Something’s up. Dad has been heads-down since the funeral, and I’ve given him space to deal with everything. But this life doesn’t give you too much time to grieve since there’s always a nemesis lurking in some dark corner, stalking, plotting, just waiting to swoop in and seize what’s up for grabs…namely, the Salesi empire.
Nobody fucked with Grandpa. But with the Salesis and Orianis at odds and no referee keeping shit civil, people sense vulnerability. And opportunity. Dad has already stepped into his rightful place, but that doesn’t mean it will go unchallenged.
I grab a Mets baseball cap from my desk and pull it on. Keys in hand, I tear out of the house and jog toward my blacked-out Range Rover. I slide onto the pebbled leather and the car roars to life. My dad’s office is about fifteen minutes away, so I’m already late, and Joe Salesi hates when anyone is late to a meeting. No exceptions for blood.
I managed to hit every red light along my route. Motherfucker. I finally pull into the parking garage adjacent to the building. I throw the car into park and jump out of the front seat. The elevator bank is the only thing on my side since the doors open before I can even press the Up button. The elevator zooms up to the fifth floor, and I step out, looking up and down the corridor before opening the door to the office. Occupational hazard. You never know who’s ready to jump out and pummel you with a tire iron.
Being the son of Joe Salesi affords me a lot of luxuries, but it also puts my head on a chopping block for people who don’t feel we have a right to said luxuries. Dad and I have always been more about the businesses than the blood. But Grandpa always knew if something happened to him, there would be people who’d try to muscle my dad out because they’d proven themselves to the family, proven that they would be feared, basically by way of murder. Just like Grandpa did. So the time came for my dad to send a clear message to the rest of the family, and he did what he needed to secure his place. It happened years ago and was a favor to Rocco’s dad, who’d run into some trouble with another family. That’s about all I ever heard. He never spoke about it, and I never asked, knowing full well that I’d eventually face the same situation.
Because I’ve never plugged anyone, either. And that makes my father very nervous.
I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding when I confirm the hallway is empty. I pull open the door and walk into the reception area. The office is bustling with activity. Salesi and Associates is a real estate investment firm. If there’s a business to be constructed, he supplies the property. He buys it up and flips it so fast the ink barely has time to dry on the mortgage contracts. His firm takes in major cash from the families here in the New York/New Jersey area, as well as counterparts in other states.
Janelle, one of the junior brokers, spots me from across the lobby. She has an armful of papers that she lowers, no doubt to make sure I can enjoy the view. And it’s fucking fabulous. She’s got porn star tits and an ass to match, one I can ride for days. And I’ve spent many hours doing just that. But my head’s all fucked up right now. These older chicks think fucking me means they’re gonna get in good with the boss, that if they land me, they’ll be rescued from the hellish land of appraisals and real estate comps and showered with freshly laundered hundred-dollar bills.
Not a fucking chance. Mainly because I’m already taken. It happened a long time ago, and it’s nothing I can change. Maybe because I don’t really want to change it.
I inhale sharply, recalling the way Shaye’s body looked in all that frilly lace the other night. I don’t usually pay much attention to lingerie, since naked is always my goal, but on her, it was sexy as fuck. All grown up and innocent at the same time. Made me harder than an iron pole. My cock twitches at the memory.
“Nico,” Janelle purrs. Yes, she sounds just like a fucking kitten. I don’t know why chicks think that’s sexy. I’m deathly allergic to those evil creatures, so this is an instant dick deflator. Good timing, Janelle.
