Silent. Pathetic. Absolutely furious.
I'm crying because I can't take my daughter to see elephants.
I'm crying because a man who terrifies me asked where I wanted to go, and for one stupid second, I almost told him.
I'm crying because I'm trapped in a mansion with criminals, and somehow, impossibly, this is still safer than my own apartment. My own life.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Nico
The silence stretches like a blade across the breakfast table.
Nora sets down her tea cup. "What's going on, Nico?"
I don't look up from my phone. The shipping manifests blur together—numbers I've already memorized, patterns I've already catalogued. "Nothing that concerns you."
"Kristen was crying last night." Nora's voice carries that particular edge she reserves for moments when she's about to dig in her heels. "I saw her when she climbed the stairs.."
Fuck.
My jaw tightens. Whatever is happening in Kristen's life isn't our business. Not even mine. Yes, we protect the people working for us. But that protection is earned. It takes years. Loyalty proven through blood and silence and sacrifice.
Not that Kristen hasn't earned it.
But the rest of this family doesn't care the way I do.
And that's the problem, isn't it? I care. In ways I don't want to. In ways I can't seem to stop no matter how hard I try to shove it down.
"Last night," I say, my voice flat, "I told Kristen what the Bratva would do to her. And to Lily."
Pietro's chair scrapes back. "Cazzo, Nico. You did what?"
"I told her the truth." I finally look up, meeting my brother's furious stare. "She needed to understand the situation she's in."
"The situation?" Pietro's palm slams against the table. "She's a civilian. A mother. And you?—"
"Yes."
Vittoria slow-claps from her end of the table. Three sarcastic beats that echo in the sudden silence. "Congratulations, Nico. You found the perfect way to make sure she never looks at you again."
My fingers stop tapping. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're an idiot." Vittoria picks up her glass, eyeing me over while drinking. "A brilliant, emotionally constipated idiot who just nuked any chance he had with that woman."
Pietro turns to stare at our sister. "What does that mean?"
"Oh, please." Vittoria rolls her eyes. "Like you haven't noticed? He assigned Dante to protect her before any of us even knew about the Bratva situation?"
"That was standard security protocol?—"
"Yeah right." Vittoria's smile is sharp. "That was Nico being Nico. Seeing a problem. Wanting to fix it. Except this time the problem comes with a woman he likes."
I'm on my feet before I realize I've moved. My chair tips backward, crashing against the marble floor.
"This conversation is over."
"Nico—" Pietro starts.
