Page 13 of Nicoli

“Christ.” I take a deep breath, rolling my shoulders. “We still have eyes on the Ferreros?”

“You know it.”

“There’s nothing we need to be concerned about?”

Maximo shakes his head. “Nothing. You know, maybe—”

“Maybe, what?”

He shrugs. “It’s been seventeen years. Maybe it’s time to accept that there’s no longer a threat.”

I smirk, not because he’s funny, but because he’s an idiot. “I will never accept that there is no threat. As long as I fucking breathe, as long as the Ferreros breathe, I will live like those fuckers have a nuclear weapon with your and your sister’s names on it. Those assholes won’t ever catch me off-guard because I underestimated them, whether it’s seventeen years or fifty.” I step up close to him. “You know how they say to rather live like there is a God and find out there isn’t one than live like there isn’t one only to find out that there is a God? Well, I would rather live like there is a threat and die a happy man after years of peace than not expect a threat and end up losing everything I care about because I made a stupid mistake by thinking the Ferreros’ business with your family ended the night they slaughtered your parents.”

Maximo takes a sharp inhale, cranking his neck from side to side. “You’re right.”

“You bet your fucking ass I am.”

“Fine. I’ll, uh…I’ll make sure we have backup at the club, have eyes in the surrounding buildings.”

“Good.” I roll my shoulders. “In the meantime, I have two weeks to find a way to piss her off and have her lock herself in her room so we can just avoid this entire situation altogether.”

Maximo snorts as he pulls out his phone, pacing while barking orders at whoever is on the receiving end, putting security in place for this weekend.

I light a cigarette, take a long, hard drag, and close my eyes as it fills my lungs, holding it for as long as possible before letting it out, the puff of smoke dissipating in the air. That woman has a rare talent of getting under my skin without even trying, and it’s infuriating as fuck.

“We’ll have eyes and ears all over that club,” Maximo confirms before slipping his phone back into his jacket pocket. I see the lines on his forehead, the twitch along his left eyebrow. He’s worried. Of course, he is. Maybe I didn’t have to be such an asshole by laying it on thick when all he did was suggest that perhaps the Ferreros are no longer a threat to him and his sister. They killed Maximo’s parents because they wanted complete control of the drug trade on these streets. It was a good, old-fashioned turf war, an assassination to gain power. And with the Tirelli family out of the way, they grow their empire one drug shipment at a time. And since the day the Dark Sovereign withdrew from the trade, they have the monopoly when it comes to drugs. Because of Maximo and Mirabella’s parents, my father cut all ties with that market. It was out of respect for their loss. Even though Maximo and Mirabella were no threat to their business, and still aren’t, we’ve always kept a close eye on the Ferreros, ensuring they don’t come after the Tirelli siblings. Families like ours don’t like leaving loose ends. But it’s been seventeen years. So maybe Maximo is right to think that threat might never come.

I take another drag from my cigarette. “You okay…you know, with today—”

“Yeah, man. I’m fine.”

“And Mira? Is she okay?”

“I think so,” he replies, dragging his fingers through his dark hair. “She, um…she mentioned Marco this morning.” He gives me a knowing look, and I stiffen. “I hate it when she tries to talk about him.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, keeping myself from saying something because God knows I’ll end up saying the wrong fucking thing right now.

“You know,” he starts, “if you want to know how she’s doing, you can ask her yourself.”

I glare at him. “You and I both know it’s best if I don’t.”

“You’re simply asking her how she’s doing, man. You’re not asking her to have your fucking baby.” His expression says he’s getting kind of sick of my bullshit. I get sick of my own bullshit sometimes, too.

“Asking her how she’s doing today of all days is a potential opening for emotions and feelings to surface, and that’s not exactly the kind of conversation I want to get caught up in with her.”

“I get it. I do—”

“No. I don’t think you do.”

“You don’t have to be a dick to her every single day, Nicoli. Especially not today. If she ends up crying, just comfort her. It won’t mean anything.”

“It will to me,” I say, tossing my cigarette to the ground and stomping it into the asphalt, annoyed at him because I know he knows better. I’ve spent years perfecting this fucking charade. I can’t risk breaking it all down simply because I want to know whether she’s okay.

“Anyway. I have shit to do.” I pull my tie back in place and smooth it down my chest. “Looking forward to our night out. Make sure you get your nails done and buy yourself a new dress.”

Maximo gives me the finger, and I smirk. “And here I thought you were more of a two-finger kind of girl.”

ChapterFive

---