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I glance over at Nico now. He looks thoughtful as we fly down the road back to Manhattan, swerving between cars now and then. Everything about him is sharper right now—more dangerous and somehow even more attractive than he was then. I can see that taking on the persona of The Undertaker has taken a toll on him, not that he would ever admit it to me.
I don’t know the details of how he and his brother were raised, but it couldn’t have been pretty, as the sons of the Attolini family’s head boss. I wonder about his mother. I know nothing about her, beyond him saying she was Sicilian. My heart aches for his brother’s widow, too.
Whatever urgent mafia business we’re driving back for now is a well-timed reminder that I can’t possibly let my child grow up in the same violent, dark world he grew up in.
As I think, my hand absentmindedly brushes against my stomach again.
Nico’s eyes flick to me and back to the road. “Are you hurting?”
“A bit,” I admit.
It’s not even a lie—I hurt to think about all the lives that get ruined because of the endless mafia feuds and spats. And it even hurts a little to steel myself for what I’m about to do.
What feels like mere moments later, Nico pulls in front of his apartment building. For the first time, I notice Ace in a car across the street. He must have been there earlier this morning, and I missed him. He waves, and I manage a weak smile that he probably doesn’t buy.
Nico opens the car door for me and kisses me deeply the moment we’re inside the building. He looks over me with nothing short of concern, but that grave brutality I’ve sensed in him the entire drive back lingers.
“I’ll be right back to help with the period pain,” he offers.
Then he’s gone. I wait for a full minute, wringing my hands in the little lobby in front of the elevator before I finally peek out one of the windows. He’s gone with the beautiful old Aston Martin, and Ace is still hanging out in the car across the street.
This is it. I can’t stay anymore. I just can’t. I need to get away before Nico’s life consumes me as completely as he already consumes my thoughts. And I can’t let the baby growing inside me be stuck in this life, either.
The Gattos have backed off from my family. Now is the best time to disappear with them completely—and they have to come with me, because what if I vanish and Nico retaliates against my family? I don’t know if The Undertaker would just let them off the hook if I left, but I know the Attolinis wouldn’t have a reason to protect them anymore. The Gattos would pounce the second they could.
But I just can’t do this.
We’re leaving. Today. Now.
I take a deep breath and compose myself, ensuring my expression is nothing more than mild exasperation as I leave Nico’s penthouse apartment building. I wait for a bicyclist to pass and cross the street to where Ace is already stepping out of his car, a curious look on his face. The vehicle isn’t idling, but one glance at the car console shows me he’s left the keys there.
“Everything okay, Sybil? Boss said you’d be inside.”
It’s not exactly suspicion, but he clearly doesn’t like when things don’t go according to Nico’s express commands. Which sucks for him because I’m about to make his life a lot harder. Poor kid.
I roll my eyes, feigning a lightheartedness I don’t feel. “I’m sure he did. But there’s some weird package all wrapped up in brown paper in the penthouse, and I’m not sure—"
“A package?” He looks alarmed, already striding across the street with me in tow. “Shit. What did it look like? Did it look badly wrapped? Was it cold, or was there any blood on it?”
I snort. “God. How much experience have you had with shady packages? Someone your age shouldn’t—”
“Don’t start with that again,” he groans, opening the door for me and hurrying me inside. He’s looking all around, wary of any sign that something might be off, and I see a little glimpse of a real mafioso through all his boyishness. He looks ready to defend, and it’s sort of sweet. “I’m not just some kid, Sybil. I’ve seen shit, okay? Just tell me what it looked like.”
We step into the elevator, and I watch with nerves on edge as he presses the button for the top floor. I watch the doors carefully. He’s busy examining the elevator—it’s his first time in this building, and he’s clearly impressed so far.
“Well…you know, it looked a lot like…uh…” I stall.
The doors begin to close. At the last possible moment, I slip between them and bolt for the lobby door before practically flying across the street. As I anticipated, Ace managed to get the elevator door open, but I’m already pulling the old car out of the parking spot by the time he bursts out the front doors, shouting after me.
Sorry, Ace.
I speed, trying to avoid traffic lights and high-traffic areas as I navigate the busy roads. Despite my mundane Manhattan surroundings, my heart is hammering as I take the most logical route back to my family’s house.
I would just call them and tell them to meet me at the airport or something, but like the genius I am, I forgot to bring my new cell phone when I left with Nico this morning.
As I turn down another road, my thoughts are interrupted when I glance in the rearview mirror. There’s a vehicle a few cars behind me that’s taken all the same turns I have. I focus in front of me again, but I can’t ignore the sudden uneasiness in my stomach.
What if the Attolinis are following me? Or far worse, the Gattos?
