“Say it.” He pressed his lips to her ear. “I want to hear you say it. Tell me you’re mine. My wife.”
Her orgasm hit her in a rush of white-hot heat, streaming through her veins to her fingers and toes, ripping a guttural scream from her throat. But she didn’t say the words he wanted to hear. Yes, she was his wife, but she didn’t belong to him, couldn’t belong to him. Because all of this, everything they had in this moment, wouldn’t last. For now they were together, hidden and safe in her apartment. When they walked out the door, they would be swallowed up by the bitter feud between their families.
A price would have to be paid. And it would tear them apart.
*
Nico’s phone buzzed just as Mia stepped into the shower.
“It’s Luca. I’m outside.”
“Gimme a minute.” Nico collected his clothing, strewn about the apartment, and quickly dressed. With all the high-tech surveillance equipment now available to law enforcement, his crew couldn’t use their phones except for the most basic of calls. Everything else had to be dealt with in person.
He nodded to Mikey Muscles as he stepped outside into the crisp morning air. Luca waited across the street, leaning against his vehicle while two guards patrolled the block. Frankie had gone overboard with the security. He wasn’t taking any chances.
“Let’s take a walk.”
“What’s up?” Nico’s eyes darted from side to side as they made their way down the street. When he returned to the apartment he would insist Mia pack up and move to his hotel. This area wasn’t safe, and the farther they walked the more run-down and dangerous things became. He recognized the tags of two different street gangs on the crumbling brick walls, spotted a drug dealer he knew, and a couple of Albanians looking like they were about to cause a lot of trouble.
“I got a copy of the police report on the Wolf,” Luca said. “His body was found in a vacant lot near the Spaghetti Bowl. He was wearing a Sicilian necktie. Was that us?”
“Cristo.” Now, fully awake, he gave Luca his full attention. Cosa Nostra only used that method of assassination—slitting the victim’s throat and pulling his tongue through the hole—to send a message if they thought the victim was a rat.
“I left him half dead. Not fully dead. Although I didn’t expect him to survive. Someone else must have found him.” He stopped at the corner, allowing the guards behind them to catch up. He wasn’t afraid of getting whacked. No one would dare. The guards were more for show and so Frankie could have a break from following him around.
“So what? You think he was a rat and the Cordanos used the opportunity to whack him and blame us? Their own consigliere?”
“It’s what I would do.” He didn’t want to think about a day where Luca or Frankie or even Big Joe betrayed him. Mercy was for the weak, and he couldn’t afford a repeat of the mercy he had shown Don Cordano the night of the massacre.
“So the fucking Cordanos owe us for finding their rat.”
Nico chuckled. “I took their daughter. I’d say we’re even.”
“But you’re just using her to get to Don Cordano.” Luca followed Nico across the street. “Wasn’t that the plan? I mean, the goal has always been to whack the bastard who killed your father and take your place as head of the family.”
Nico gave a noncommittal answer, and they walked a few yards down the block. Last night, it had been easy to make the promise to Mia to spare her father. But now, in the light of day, with the expectations of his entire crew reflected in Luca’s face, and yet more evidence of the brutality of Don Cordano, who was a threat to Mia as long as he drew a breath, Nico wondered if it was a promise he could truly keep.
“We’d better get moving on that plan,” Luca persisted. “I got intel that Don Cordano is in New York right now. Three guesses why he’s there, other than getting their blessing for a big fat Italian wedding that’s going to be mysteriously missing a bride.”
Nico didn’t need three guesses. If Tony and Mia had married, Nico would have been considered a threat to the stability of the alliance. New York didn’t like instability of any kind, and Don Cordano would have had no trouble getting their consent to whack him.
“We’ll need to go public sooner rather than later.” Nico had wanted to keep their union secret as long as possible, not just to give him time to break the news to the Scozzaris and smooth out the political situation, but because he wanted to keep Mia to himself, unburdened and untainted by the traditional expectations put on Mafia wives.
“Whaddya gonna do?” Luca snorted a laugh. “Take out an ad?”
“I’m going to do what everyone does after they elope.” His stomach clenched. “We’ll go meet the parents.”
“And is that when you’re gonna pop Don Cordano?”
Nico couldn’t answer. He hadn’t decided yet if he was going to whack the bastard or if he would shake his hand.
TWENTY-ONE
Mia’s hand shook as she pushed open the front door to the family home.