He sits across from me, and his eyes gaze off into the distance.
The silence stretches. I watch him gather himself. It’s almost like he’s trying to decide whether to actually go through with this.
Then he apparently he makes up his mind.
“I told you I was fifteen when it happened.” His voice is quiet. “Home alone. Well. Not alone. Dom was there, but—” He breaks off. Rubs the scar at his jaw. “They came through the living room window. Two of them. I heard the glass break and I just... froze. Then I ran toward the sound because that’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Confront the threat.”
I don’t say anything. Don’t move.
“Dom was in his bedroom. He heard it, too. He could have—” Nico’s jaw works. “I don’t blame himfor hiding. I did, for years, but I don’t anymore. He was scared. We were both kids, basically.”
“But you didn’t hide,” I say softly.
“No.” His laugh is bitter. “I faced them. Thought I could... I don’t know. Talk them down. Reason with them. Maybe fight them off.” He touches his face again, his fingers tracing the path of the scarring. “The broken bottle was a Corona. I remember that detail for some reason.”
My stomach turns. I force myself to stay still, to let him finish.
“He dragged it down my face. Like this.” His finger follows the twisted line from cheekbone to jaw. “Then this.” The claw marks near his temple. “I was screaming. Dom was still hiding. He hid the whole time. They only left when the neighbors’ lights came on.”
“Nico—”
“After that, I was... angry.” He looks at me now, and his eyes are haunted. “For years. At Dom. At the world. At myself for not being stronger, faster, smarter. The anger had nowhere to go, so it just sat there. Festering.”
He stands, starts pacing. “When Dom met Tatiana, I told myself I was in love with her, too.” He won’t look at me now. “I wasn’t. I just wanted to take her from him. I wanted him to see what it felt like to be abandoned, betrayed, helpless. So I...” He stops. Forces the words out. “I tried to blackmail him. Told him he owed me, for what he did. For hiding while home invaders ruined my face. For not defending me, like a brother should. I guilt tripped the shit out of him, basically. Tried to extort money from him, to boot. Wasn’t pretty.”
Hefalls silent.
“What happened?” I finally ask.
“Dom arranged a meeting. Him, me, Tatiana. Thought we could all... talk it out or something.” Nico’s laugh is hollow. “It was a disaster. Tatiana was insulted. Rightfully so. She left him. Walked out because she couldn’t believe he’d even entertained my manipulation for a second.”
I wince. “God.”
“Yeah. And I felt...” He pauses, searching for the word. “Triumphant. For about five minutes. Then there was another home invasion. At Dom’s penthouse this time.”
My breath catches. “Another—”
“Dom fought back. Got shot. Just grazed his side, but still. He fought because he thought Tatiana was still there in the guest suite, that she needed protection. She wasn’t. She’d already left because of what I’d done.” The self-loathing in his voice is visceral. “He risked his life for her even after she’d walked out. That’s when he finally came to his senses about letting me manipulate him.”
“What did he do?”
“Confronted me the next day. We got into an actual physical fight. Nothing serious, just...” He gestures vaguely. “A scrap. Cleared the air with our fists like idiots. Then he told me he was done. That he loved her and I could either accept it or fuck off, but he wasn’t going to let me manipulate him anymore.” Nico’s shoulders sag. “By then I’d realized what I’d become. This bitter, vengeful asshole who used his trauma as an excuse to hurt the people closest to him.”
“And then?”
“Then I got help. Real help. Therapy, not just the mandated sessions after the attack. It took years. Asfor Dom and I, eventually...” He sits back down, looking exhausted. “Eventually I apologized. Really apologized, not the fake corporate kind. Told him I’d been wrong. That he didn’t owe me anything, that his moment of fear during that first invasion didn’t justify what I tried to do to him.”
“He forgave you.”
“Yeah.” Nico’s voice cracks slightly. “He did. Gave me the money to start the company. Told me he believed I could be better. That I could build something good. I’ve been trying, every day since then, to be the person Dom saw in me instead of the person I was.”
He pauses. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. For any of it. But I need you to know...” He meets my eyes, and God, the vulnerability there nearly undoes me. “I care about you, Bree. In a way I’ve never cared about anyone.”
My heart clenches.
Say something.
Say anything.
