Page 44 of Brutal Queen

“Come on, hummingbird. You might as well tell me.”

I stare at him for a few moments before finally giving in. “I’m worried about Nico.”

Sinclair nods. You’d have to be blind not to see how Nico’s behaviour has changed since he found out. Whileinitially he took it well, over the last few weeks he’s been getting more and more withdrawn. When he tried to contact the couple that took him in—calling them his parents gives them way too much credit for the man he’s become—they ghosted him.

They refused to see him. They sent him a message saying their agreement was with Mateo and Nico was told what was safe for him to know. They had the gall to say they tried their best but they couldn’t be involved anymore.

I suggested we take them to the chop shop and ask again. The fact that they’re in any way connected to my organisation makes me sick to my stomach. Weasley, spineless fucks. How you can raise a child for sixteen years and then cut them out of your life enrages me.

“He says he’s fine, but he’s disappearing off, taking the most violent jobs we’ve got on the books,” I say, pausing for a moment and dropping the sandwich to the plate to rub my temples before adding, “Benny’s worried too.”

Sinclair tips his head to the side and looks like he’s trying to think about how to say what he wants to say. Always the considerate caretaker.

“You think he’s struggling with it.”

“Yes.” Our gazes lock and I finally give words to my biggest worry. “I think the longer he sits with the knowledge of who his father is, the angrier he’s getting. And if we don’t help him, it’s going to end up breaking him.”

“We’re his family, we’ll get him through this. We brought him back from the brink before. We can do it again. It’s why Mateo brought him to us in the first place,” Sinclair declares, trying to reassure me.

“That’s exactly the problem, Sin. Don’t you see? My father—the man who saved him from himself, who found him his family—also lied to him his whole life. That can’t be easy,” Isay, and he takes it in, saying nothing in response, seemingly at a loss for words.

We sit in silence, letting the weight of that knowledge settle on us and knowing that however that makes us feel, it’s a fraction of what Nico must be going through. After a while, I begrudgingly finish my lunch. As I push the empty plate off to the side of my desk, Sinclair clears his throat.

“So what’s had you glued to your screen? What are you doing to help him?” he asks.

“I’ve had Stefano looking into some things, approaching some of the old boys to find out if they know anything. My father told him Nico was an unwanted pregnancy. Born to an underage daughter of one of his men who wanted to keep it quiet.”

“You want to track down his mother?”

“Yes. If Salvatore had Nico delivered to my father, what happened to her? How did he get hold of Nico? There’s too many fucking questions.” I drop forward, resting my elbows on my desk and blowing out a frustrated breath.

“You know your father had to keep his lineage secret, don’t you,colibrì? Back then, he would have been slaughtered if anyone knew Nico was the son of Salvatore De Luca.”

“I know that. I’m not trying to uncover some great mystery for my own amusement. I just want to get answers for Nico. Maybe it will help him because I’ll be damned if I let a De Luca hurt another person I love.”

“You’re a good woman, Aurora.” His words don’t reassure me like they usually do.

I don’t feel like a good woman right now. I feel like a failure. Nico won’t talk to me about this, and I feel like I’m betraying him in some way by looking into it. He asked me to drop it, but I can’t when I can see how much it’s affecting him.

I move the conversation on to the topic of this afternoon'smeeting with Gabriella. We need to get her to assign a team to focus on The Knights and track what Max has them working on for him. They’re the lynchpin to unravelling his organisation. We put together everything we have, knowing Gabriella is the right woman for the job. Her work for me so far has been impeccable. Every bit of intel she’s given me has allowed me to almost surgically excise Max’s revenue streams. If her information hasn’t been used to help steal his shipments, it’s been used to thin out his numbers. We’ve eliminated multiple smaller gangs that were under his influence, either by sending Luc and Leandro after them, or by anonymously tipping off the local police.

Sinclair identified a rather eager young rookie who’s eager to make a name for himself cleaning up the streets. So far, he’s been very useful in keeping Max’s new recruits busy with arraignments or perpetual questioning.

It could be seen as a waste of my time since I plan on killing Max anyway, but I need to know that the day I kill my husband is the day the De Luca legacy dies. It’s not enough just to kill him. I need the organisation dead and buried too.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

BENEDICT

I’m at the end of my rope with Nico. Quite literally. He’s had me tied to the A-Frame in his room for the last hour and the bastard’s been edging me the entire time. I’m seriously questioning my sanity in suggesting playing with restraints when I knew he was in the mood for orgasm denial. This is a problem entirely of my own making.

“Please, just let me come, sir. Please, I can’t take it anymore,” I whine, stretching out every please, praying that this time he’ll let me. I’m exhausted. He’s pushed me close to orgasm so many times that I’m little more than a puddle of need. My cock is painfully hard and with every twitch and strain of my abs in response to his touch spills fat drops of pre-cum to the floor between my spread legs.

“You’ll come when I say you can come, Bambi,” Nico replies. His voice is missing the lightheartedness it usually has when we play together. He clutches my hair roughly and pulls my head up while he grips the base of my dick firmly in theother. I want everything he’s giving me. I just need more. So much more. This is torture. He doesn’t move, doesn’t stroke my shaft. Just holds me and squeezes.

I watch his face as he toys with me. I know how it feels to be the centre of this man’s universe, to have my pleasure be his ultimate goal and right now that’s not what this feels like. It’s like he’s lost in a place where I can’t reach him, a place he’s been slipping into more frequently since he learned the truth about his father.

Despite my unease, he’s managed to wind me so tightly that the grip of his hand begins to tip me over the edge. “Fuck yes, oh God, yes, sir,” I shout, my voice cracking under the agony of finally achieving my release.

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