Nico (Ruin & Revenge #1)(84)



Part of him knew he was out of control, but the only way to deal with this fucking mess was to unleash the beast or he’d goddamn implode. And the one person who could soothe his pain had betrayed him.

“Fuck.” He kicked the fence again. “Dante can’t just disappear off the face of the earth. What’s the point in having hundreds of associates and soldiers when they can’t find a single man?”

“I keep telling you, go for the bodyguard.” Frankie puffed on his cigarette. “He’s more visible, more recognizable. And he’s not the kind of man who’s going to hide. He’ll lead you to Dante and then we can whack him. Rev is like a human shield. Dante will be vulnerable without him.” He tested the wooden fence and pushed the board Nico had dislodged back in place, before blowing out a stream of smoke.

“We’re not murderers, Frankie. There’s only one man I want dead, and then I am going to try and end this fucking war. If we clip Rev, then they’ll come after our guys, and we’ll go after their guys. It won’t stop until the streets run red with blood.”

“With all due respect…”

Nico raised his hand. “I don’t want to hear it. Everyone will be hitting the mattresses now. We need to focus our efforts on finding Dante before he disappears, if he hasn’t already.” He knew Frankie wanted him to lay low—hit the mattresses, too. But Nico didn’t hide. He didn’t run. And sure as hell didn’t stop looking for the man who had taken his father’s life.

“I’m trying to protect you,” Frankie said. “Less chance of you getting clipped if the bodyguard is out of the way.”

“I don’t need protection,” he snapped. “I need revenge. We’re done with that topic.”

“What about the topic of the girl you’ve been fucking brooding over all day. Why don’t you just call her?” Frankie blew a smoke ring and watched it fade away.

“What the fuck?”

“Call your girl. Save a fence.”

Nico punched the fence so hard, his hand went numb. “She’s not my girl; she was my wife. Although it turns out I didn’t know her at all.”

“She was trying to save her shit-for-brains brother. Seems to me that’s pretty consistent behavior for her.” Frankie always seemed so calm, and yet when Nico looked in his eyes he saw nothing but darkness, anger, and rage.

“She betrayed me.”

“And now you’re going to kill her brother when only yesterday you were willing to put aside your quest for vengeance to have her.” Frankie took another drag of his cigarette.

Irritated, his nerves frayed, Nico slapped the cigarette from Frankie’s mouth. “I’m fucking sick of watching you try to kill yourself. My Uncle Ettore died of lung cancer. It is not a death I would wish on anyone and especially not you.” He had lost everyone he cared about—his parents, Mia, friends, and family during the war—and the prospect of losing one of his two closest friends as well was unbearable.

“And I’m fucking sick of watching you lose yourself to the memory of a father who has been gone for ten years,” Frankie shot back. “Yes, there is a matter of honor. But you have to live for something more than revenge, and Mia was that something. Now, you’re going back instead of moving on. When does it end?”

“It will end with Dante dead, my father avenged and the family honor restored.” He clenched his fist and thudded his heart in a silent pledge.

“And you’ll be alone with your vengeance, your honor, a war with both Tony and the Cordanos, and a stranger in your bed that you don’t love.”

Nico’s heart thudded a protest beneath his hand. “Love isn’t worth the pain. I should have heeded the lesson I learned long ago. Even you…” He gestured to the cigarette, directing his anger at the friend who never left his side. “Every day you make me watch you die.”

Frankie dropped the cigarette and toed it with his boot. “You didn’t seem to be in pain for the last coupla weeks.”

“Forget about it.” He waved Frankie off, even though he knew Frankie was right. He felt right with Mia. Happy. So fucking happy he had considered giving up the vendetta to be with her even though they’d known each other only a few weeks. Stupido. Dante’s death might not bring his father back, but an eye for an eye had always been the traditional Mafia way. His father had been right. The old ways were best. Mia had spent her life fighting against tradition, and where had it led her? Back to the fucking beginning. Just like him.

*

“So what’s on the menu today?” Jules handed Mia a cup of coffee and took a seat on the other side of Mia’s desk. “Penetration test of a mob-run casino? Done that. Escape from a mob clubhouse? Done that. Getting hot and heavy with a mob boss? Triple check. Destruction of the office after the mob boss goes protective crazy? Check. Dressing up as a pretend mob wife? Done with miserable results. Escape from the mob? Vegas wedding? Something happens that you won’t share with the best friend? Check, check, check, check. And now you’re getting divorced. It’s been an exciting month. I can hardly wait to find out what’s next.”

“It’s an annulment, not a divorce.” Mia pushed the annulment form across the table. “If I contest it, then it can take four to six weeks. If I sign the paper, it is over in one to three days.”

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