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Nico
“Salute!” We all cheer as we clink our wine glasses. The Cosa Nostra has a rule about not drinking any hard liquor before a big...event. We’re all praying for a successful mission tomorrow.
“That Ferrari is going to look so good in my garage,” I say, taking a sip of my wine.
“You fuckin’ cheated, asshole!” Dominic yells from across the table with a smile on his face.
Anya looks stunned that we were getting along. Her eyes dart back and forth between us during our exchange. The guy wasn’t so bad when it came to anything that didn’t have to do with his sister.
“I didn’t fucking cheat. We didn’t have any rules,” I argue.
“Boys.” Anya shakes her head to my mother as they both roll their eyes, smiling.
“This is all your fault, Franco!” Dominic says, slapping the back of his best friend’s head.
“Ow! What did I do?” he asks as he stuffs his face.
“You had to give the last round to him,” Dominic replies.
Franco laughs, shaking his head and returning to his dinner.
“Better luck next time, man,” Dante says, patting Dominic on the back.
Anya is still speechless, eyes wide, watching us all bond, though I think her silence has less to do with her being stunned and more to do with her feelings about tomorrow. We’ll have to discuss this later. I can’t have her going in without me, with her mind all fucked.
“Listen, if you’ll stop being a sore loser, we might still grant you access tosomeof our docks at a discounted rate,” I say back.
“Like hell!” Bash laughs with us.
The rest of dinner went by quickly. Most of us just joke around and keep the conversation light. We end earlier than usual, so we can all get to bed early. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.
Chapter Thirty
Anya
I’m lying in bed on Nico’s chest while he plays with my hair. Normally, this would help calm me down, but I feel like I’m about to jump out of my own skin. It’s our last night before we head out. I can’t help but wonder what my life will look like twenty-four hours from now, assuming I live to even tell the tale. Will I survive this? Or worse, if any of our men die because of this, I’m not sure how I’ll cope with that.
“I can hear your thoughts, wife. Do I need to fuck them out of your head?” Nico grumbles in a low, sexy voice.
Fuck, I’m wet from that statement alone. But I can’t stop thinking about what can happen. I look up at him and admire him. His tattoos covering his torso, arms, and neck. He’s let his dark facial hair grow out, and it’s perfectly groomed. The sight of this man.
“I like when you call me wife,” I say as I touch his face to mess with his scruff.
He grabs my hand and kisses my palm. “Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not sure if I even want the Triad.” I sigh. “I understand Andrew has to die or he won’t leave me alone, but what if I do kill him, and—”
“You will.”
I roll my eyes, though I love his confidence in me. “WhenI kill him, what happens if I don’t want it?”
“Do you not want this because you think you’ll fail, or do you truly not want to do this?” he asks me.
I pause before answering. “Failing. I’m going in blind, Nico. I know as much about them as any other outsider would. How am I supposed to lead people I don’t know? Who do I trust? How can I expect them to trust me?”
“You don’t have to know everything. Just think of it like a normal job. Not that you’ve ever had one—”
I smack him in the face with one of the throw pillows left on the bed.
