Page 82 of Nikola
“I’m your only son. Of course you’re talking to me, Vasili,” he continued. “I’m pretty sure the whole of New Orleans heard you. Besides, what’s done is done; it’s time to move on.”
I lost my fucking temper and I was fairly certain my blood pressure was in the danger zone.
“Herfathersaw the fucking tape,” I bellowed.
“It was discreetly done,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You can’t see anything scandalous.”
“You’re missing the point, which is thatyou are fucking Dante Leone’s only daughter!” Didn’t he realize that in Dante’s book that was enough to start murdering the entire Nikolaev family?
“Hmm, I thought she was Uncle Sasha’s daughter,” he snickered, and I shot him a dark look. I loved my son, but at this moment, I’d fucking love to strangle him. “Relax, it’s not incest. She was adopted, remember?”
“Incest is the least of your worries,” I roared.
For fuck’s sake, why didn’t I get a normal son? Instead, I got a mini replica of Sasha. And that devil of my brother ended up with a saint son. What had I done in my previous life to deserve this?
Nikola leaned back in the chair and picked up the magazine next to him. It was like being taken back to the days when Sasha did the same thing to me, only to egg me on. Were the two fuckers conspiring against me?
“Put the fucking magazine down,” I gritted, barely controlling the last bit of my fury that I was prepared to unleash. My pulse throbbed and my ears rang. At this rate, a heart attack was bound to follow, and I almost wished it’d happen before Dante Leone woke up from his drug-induced sleep.
“Relax, Dad.” He waved his hand nonchalantly. “Honestly, in today’s day and age, sex tapes are everywhere.”
Please, God, give me strength not to kill my only son, I prayed silently, but my prayers were a bit too little too late. The deed was done and out in the world. The war between families—Leones, Marchettis, and Nikolaevs—was bound to start.
Maybe I would keel over and be spared. One could only hope.
“Don’t fucking tell me to relax. This is like déjà vu.” I tugged on my hair, barely holding on to my sanity and temper. “My sister stopped her partying and lunacy. I was so fucking close to saying our family is full of normal human beings?—”
“There’s nothing normal about those two,” Nikola deadpanned, then popped a bubble as if he needed to emphasize it. “Besides, Uncle Sasha and Aunt Tatiana might be unchanged, but their spouses are handling it better than you did.”
“I could strangle you right now, Nikola.”
“Let’s not start the kinky incest talk now,” he drawled.
I gave my head a subtle shake, staring him down. Much like Sasha, my son loved to bait people into reactions. The more you gave him, the more he fought back.
Letting out a deep sigh, I tried to get my anger reined in before I said, “Why didn’t you come to me if there was something between you and Skye? I could have arranged?—”
He lifted his palm and stopped me with his next words. “After the shitstorm your friends Nico and Luciano created for Matteo… No, thank you.”
“It was a simple mistake, and neither you nor Skye have a twin,” I retorted patiently. Honestly, I couldn’t fucking believe I was being compared to those two.
“Maybe, but I wasn’t risking it. This is a sure deal, and now Skye will be mine. Besides, it’s not like our families’ methods in obtaining wives are exactly Jane Austen–worthy.”
“Iaskedyour mother to marry me.”
“More or less,” he quipped. “And let’s not forget Uncle Sasha kidnapped his bride on the day of her wedding. In the church.”
“I just can’t catch a break with all of you.” He opened his mouth, ready to make a comment to that statement, and I shot him a dark look that told him he was on thin ice. Nikola knew when it was best to shut the fuck up. “Your uncle might havekidnapped a bride on her wedding day, but at least he never made a sex tape.”
He shrugged, unimpressed. “What can I say? I’m original.”
I shoved my hand through my hair, ready to rip it out right along with my sanity.
“Original,” I spat through gritted teeth. “Original would have been to go to your uncle Sasha and Dante Leone and ask to date Skye… marry her… or whatever the fuck kids do these days.”
He popped a bubble again, letting it fill the tense silence before he answered, “I asked Uncle Sasha about marrying her, and he said he’d blind me. Dante wasn’t much better.” Then he proceeded with a somber expression and the most idiotic Italian accent I’d ever heard. “Look her way, boy, and I’ll cut you into little pieces and feed your body and soul to the sharks. Honestly, I didn’t think the man was that poetic.”
I slammed my fist against my table again, rattling it. “And you didn’t think to heed the man’s advice?”
