Page 72 of Nicoli

“At the club?”

“In the parking lot, to be exact.”

“The parking lot?”

“Against his car. In the rain. Out on the street.” My mind wanders back to that night as I speak these words, steamy bodies pressed against each other while raindrops pelted down around us like tiny missiles.

Her expression goes blank, and her eyes glaze over as she tries to process all that information laid out over a few short sentences. But then she looks at me, and I see the momentary pity that flickers across her face like a shadow. “This was before…Felix?”

I flit my gaze down and flick my nails with purpose. “Yes.”

“Maybe that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t want you going to the club,” she says slowly, squinting an eye at me from behind a curtain of dark hair.

“Why? Because of what happened with Felix?”

“Because he thinks you’re not ready.”

“I’m not broken, Leandra. I’m not a piece of glass that shatters under the slightest pressure.”

“To him, you are.”

“But I’m not. And I’m sick and tired of him treating me that way.”

“You’re right. You’re not. You’re a force to be reckoned with—smart, tough, and beautiful in every way possible. But that won’t stop him from being protective of you.”

“Are you defending him?”

“No. Yes.” She shakes her head lightly. “Maybe. I don’t know. All I know is that a lot has happened in a very, very short time. You and Nicoli went from having this fragile relationship, at best, for years to fighting and not talking for days to having sex at a club and getting married within hours. I don’t think either of you has taken a minute to process all of this.”

I nervously bite down hard on my bottom lip, feeling the tension tighten in my chest.

“Both of you need time to breathe first. Digest all that has happened,” she says, her tone soft.

“Believe me, Leandra. I’m digesting.”

“Are you really?” She slants her head and watches me like she’s waiting for that first sign of weakness. “You haven’t spoken about what happened with Felix. You’re acting like it never happened.”

“He didn’t rape me, Leandra.”

“That doesn’t make it any less traumatizing.”

“I feel like everyone underestimates me. I’ve been sheltered by this family all my life and never had a chance to show anyone my true strength. And now that I’m thrown in the middle of all this, everyone seems to think I’m not strong enough to handle it.” I stand. “You, of all people, should know it is possible for a woman to survive something traumatic without breaking into pieces.” The silence is thick and heavy, and it pains me that I had to hint at her troubled past. But I’m sick of everyone thinking I’m a fucking porcelain doll. I’m stronger than this. I might not be a Del Rossa by blood, but I’ve been raised like one, and that’s one thing this family has in spades. Strength. The power to survive whatever life throws at you. “Yes, I was scared,” I continue. “It was the most frightening experience of my life. But now, when I think about that moment when I saw Felix’s body on the ground, his blood staining my shoes, I don’t feel fear, panic, or hurt.” I take in a breath. “I feel empowered…by the justice of it. I can’t explain it. To me, Nicoli took care of it by shooting and killing him, and it makes me feel…okay.” I shrug. “If Nicoli didn’t kill him, maybe then I’d be the mess everyone thinks I’m supposed to be. But I’m not, and I dunno what kind of person that makes me for finding comfort in blood and death.”

Leandra places a gentle hand on my shoulder, her expression showing understanding and compassion. “It makes you the kind of woman who refuses to let another’s actions determine your worth,” she says softly. “And you’re right. You’re stronger than people give you credit for.”

I nod, feeling the weight of her words settle over me like a warm blanket.

“But don’t let that strength become your weakness,” she continues thoughtfully. “Don’t be so determined to prove yourself that you forget to take care of yourself.”

Her words strike something deep within me, and I realize how hard I’ve been pushing myself lately, how desperately I’ve been trying to keep up with everyone else, especially playing this game with Nicoli. Maybe it’s time to stop. Perhaps it is time for me to stop and breathe.

“I won’t,” I promise fiercely, meeting Leandra’s gaze head-on. “But what about Nicoli? He needs to accept that I’m not as innocent and fragile as he thinks I am. My God, you should have seen him when I told him I’m not a virgin. He was talking about bullets and glass and disembowelment.”

“Oh, shit,” Leandra utters as if she knows exactly the kind of reaction I got from Nicoli. “Has growing up with the Del Rossa brothers taught you nothing?” she teases. “They are nothing if not possessive when it comes to their women.”

“I wasn’t his woman back then.”

“But you are now. And that changes everything.”

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