Chapter 9 That Voice
Serena's POV
I wanted to scream, kick, punch, yell for help. Could he be the one?
The SUV sat dead still on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere with the engine off and even the headlights cut off. Nico was still sitting in his seat while his eyes remained locked on me through the rearview.
He kept flashing me that creepy half-smile that cringed the fuck out of me.
I was literally on the edge of my seat. “What the hell are you doing?!” I snapped, taking all I had in me to look unbothered when really, I was terrified.
He didn’t say a word. He just glanced down at his phone, tapping the screen softly with his thumb, then scanned the trees around us like he was waiting for something.
My pulse kicked up slightly. “Nico, what are you doing?!” I asked, louder this time around.
I was growing pretty frantic at this point, I needed answers. But he ignored me, just kept tapping the steering wheel with his fingers like someone that had been possessed or something.
His eyes kept darting to the mirrors, then back outside.
Fear hit me quickly, does he want to kidnap me? Or worse... sell me off to the Romanos, or hand me over to Marco and his men. None of those possibilities sounded exciting.
Or could he be… maybe he’s the rat. The one with the ring, the one leaking everything.
I leaned forward slowly, trying to keep my voice steady. “Nico. What’s going on?”
He let out a low chuckle, muttering in Italian. “La piccola sa tenere la voce bassa.”
I felt goosebumps all over me as chills ran down my spine. I hurried back towards the door, fumbling with the lock but it didn't pop. Locked.
He laughed again, shaking his head like I was the funniest thing he’d seen all night.
“What do you want with me?” I asked, unable to hear my worry again as my voice cracked.
That made him laugh harder, hanging his head back as he laughed on. “You really think I’d touch the boss’s bitch?”
I hated how the word stung. “Then why’d you stop the car out here?”
He snorted, still grinning, not bothering to offer me a response.
I pushed on, refusing to let him win. “Dante will find out if you try to sell me to the Romanos.”
Nico turned in his seat, now facing me partially. I shrank back under his intense gaze. His eyes were cold now, no longer smiling.
“If I wanted to sell you,” he said slowly, “I would’ve done it already. And there’s not a damn thing Dante could do to find out.”
My breath caught.
“But that’s not why I stopped," he added sharply.
Relief rushed through me quickly, my shoulders threatened to sag. So, okay, he's not a rat. And apparently, he's not selling me either.
“Then why?” I asked calmly.
In response, he shot his hand out between the seats and grabbed my wrist, yanking me forward in seconds.
"No!" I yelped, twisting and trying as hard as I could to pull away, but his grip was way too strong.
“Listen up, you little piece of shit,” he hissed. “You think you can waltz into our family, kill one of us, spread your legs for the boss, and suddenly become our queen?”
“I never asked for any of this—”
“Shut the fuck up!” He yelled as his fingers tightened around my wrist. “You pulled that trigger, then said yes to Dante. You lit the match, sweetheart. Now everything’s burning.”
“Let me go!”
He dragged me closer till I was nearly over the chair, his face was inches from mine. Then he whispered in a bone chilling voice. “I see you. I see right through you. I know you’re a rat. Can’t prove it yet, but you stole my phone back there. Something’s off.”
“I was trying to help—”
“Bullshit.” He shoved me back forcefully. My shoulder slammed into the seat, pain shooting through my arm.
“The smartest thing you could do is run away. Before I do something ugly.”
He turned around, fired up the engine, and peeled out like nothing ever happened.
The rest of the drive was dead quiet. I kept my head down, rubbing my wrist and staring at the bruise that was already blooming.
My mind raced—replaying every look Nico had given me since day one. The lingering stares. The way his jaw flexed when Dante spoke of me. The quiet feeling I’d felt but couldn’t name.
We rolled into the underground garage of the penthouse. The second the car stopped, I lunged for the door.
Nico hit the unlock. As I shoved it open he muttered in Italian, “Scappa prima che faccia qualcosa di brutto.” Then continued in English, “don’t be stupid.”
I didn’t look back. I raced for the private elevator. The doors slid open and one of Dante’s staff, an older guy, always polite—was waiting.
“Miss Moretti? Everything alright?”
I glanced over my shoulder. Nico was still parked, watching. I forced a nod and pushed past the guy. “Fine.”
He followed me into the elevator. “Mr. Russo sent word. Said you should clean up and eat. Food will be up shortly.”
I didn’t answer. Just stared at the numbers climbing.
The second the doors opened into the penthouse I kicked off my shoes and headed straight for the bedroom. My clothes hit the floor the moment I shut the door to his bedroom. I stepped into the shower and cranked the water to it's hottest.
I stood under the spray for what felt like hours, letting it burn away the night. Nico’s words kept running through my mind.
I scrubbed my skin till it turned red, my wrist still throbbed where he’d grabbed me. By the time I stepped out, I couldn't see myself through the mirror.
I wrapped myself in a towel and strolled back into the bedroom. A tray waited on the table with steaks, roasted vegetables, and a glass of red wine on it. My stomach growled loud, I hadn’t realized how starved I was.
I sat cross-legged on the bed in one of Dante’s black robes and rushed into the food. When I had taken the last bite of the steak, I crawled under the covers, feeling massively tired. The silk sheets were cool against my skin, tempting me.
I told myself I’d just rest my eyes for a minute, but sleep took over really hard. I don't know how long I had been asleep, but I woke to a deep, familiar voice yelling my name.