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“Agree. But this is enough for tonight. Get someone in here to clean up this mess and let's regroup tomorrow. I will see each of you in the conference room in the morning. We need to work this out and we need to do it quickly,” Sebastian orders before turning on his heel and walking out of the room. I follow as Dante and Carter organize the cleaning crew and finish up down here.
Swiftly, I head to my private house here in the compound and go straight into the shower, feeling on edge. I step beneath the warm water, the heat hitting my back and washing away the sins of today as I think about the man in our cell and what he could be doing here. We have absolutely nothing to go on, but in my gut, I know something isn’t right.
All is quiet and dark as I walk into the apartment where I left Emilia and look at my watch. “Shit,” I whisper to myself, seeing it’s already past 11 pm. I had hoped I would be back sooner to take her home. As I step around the corner into the office, I see her curled up on her side, fast asleep on the floor. Standing in the doorway, I look at her, watching her for a moment as small puffs of air leave her lips, her face completely relaxed, her top riding up just a little giving me a glimpse of her curved, soft stomach and her flawless skin. In her hands, I see she’s hugging a photograph. Stepping closer, I pluck it from her loose grip to inspect it further, realizing it’s a picture of her mother holding her as a baby, the pink jumpsuit and the handwritten date on the back giving it away.
I rub my face, sighing deeply. It has been a long fucking day, and I feel a little bad for keeping her here so long. And now seeing this photo, I feel even worse. What I told Sebastian was correct; I need her to make a start on these boxes because it will take her weeks, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to make her feel slightly uncomfortable. On edge. Push her a little to see what she can uncover. What I didn’t consider is how going through her father’s belongings would bring up parts of her past she’s probably left behind, or truths she’s always wanted to know about her mother. Not only could that deter her from finding whatweneed, but after seeing her cry earlier, I know I won’t be able to witness that again without getting too close. Closer than I should be with her, as someone who’s working for me and my family.
After putting the photo back into the box, I step out of the room to call Tony to get the car ready downstairs. Walking back in, I lean over and pick her up, folding her against my chest. She wakes a little, startling in my arms.
“Nico?” she murmurs, her eyes sleepy, but they lock on mine. I continue down the hall with her in my arms, and even though she is still half asleep, I can see her wanting to resist.
“Have you been crying again, bambolina?” I murmur to her, noticing her eyes and nose are both a little red.
“No.” It’s an obvious lie, one she doesn’t try to make convincing. “You can let me down. I am way too heavy to carry,” she says at the same time as she yawns, her hands hanging around my neck, and my grip on her tightens.
“Sleep. I will take you home.” I don't know if she understands or if she is purely exhausted from the events of the day, but she rests her head in the crook of my neck and snuggles into my chest, making my heart pump.
“I can walk… I don’t wantmy bossthinking he can just pick me up and take me anywhere he wants,” she sasses. Although, there is less of a punch in her tone as she barely whispers the words against my skin, where her head is resting, telling me she is already close to half asleep again.
“I don’t need to be your boss to do anything I want to do with you, bambolina. I just will,” I growl to her quietly, to which she only“mhmms.”
“You better have a strong coffee waiting for me tomorrow… and remember the cream.” Her breaths are warm on my chest as she murmurs, and I find myself holding her impossibly closer.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself as I approach the garage, all the while watching her face now that her eyes are closed, committing her soft lips and long lashes to my memory.
I keep her on my lap for the duration of the car ride, holding her tight and brushing the hair off her face that had fallen across her cheek.
I don’t know her well, but I would put money on the fact she has never had anyone look after her before, and has lived a pretty lonely life for the most part. Now, even as an adult, she doesn’t have anyone in her life to count on. Our research on her didn’t unearth even one close friend or long-term boyfriend, only her career to keep her company.
As the lights of New York night filter through the car window, I think back to the man we picked up today. What he wanted, who he was, and if there are any more men coming for us.
But I already know the answer. Whoever it is, they are coming.
12
EMILIA
Iwake to the sun streaming on my face from the window in my bedroom, cursing that I forgot to close the blinds. As I rub my hands across my face and stretch out my body, I wonder why I am still fully dressed, and then I sit with a start.
Eyes now wide, my chest thumping, I look around my bedroom wildly and see nothing amiss.
Nico brought me home.
I try to recall my memory of last night. I remember getting lost in the history of photographs and newspaper clippings and then resting my head. I must have fallen asleep because I can vaguely remember Nico picking me up, but then I don’t remember much more. The vision I have of being carried flashes into my mind, something no man has ever done. Clearly, the events of the week have made me even more exhausted than usual.
I fling back the blankets and slip from bed, opening my bedroom door tentatively. Looking around, my apartment is empty. No Nico. I am not sure why, but I am disappointed.
My eyes catch on the cup sitting on the kitchen bench, and I walk over. A steamy hot cup of coffee, freshly brewed, so he must have just left as I woke. I smile as I take a sip. He remembered. He has made it perfectly every time.
My thoughts drift back to how good it felt to be swept up in his strong, protective arms. How he said something when I was half asleep that I’m just now remembering… how he will do whatever he wants with me, or something to that effect.
The words should scare me to death, but the way he said them, as he pulled me tight, it brought nothing but comfort to my soul, and a little longing.
Taking another sip, I snap myself out of thinking like that. I can’t go there.
Relieved to have a nice quiet house, with no mob soldier ordering me around, I take a seat on my comfy sofa, and think instead about my mother.
Once I got over the fact that the work Nico requires will take much longer than the weekend, unpacking the boxes gave me the ability to discover parts of my history I never thought I’d have the chance to. I didn’t bring home any of the things I found, but I will ask Nico if I can take the photos and the newspaper clippings that have to do with her.
