Chapter 20: Twenty

Nico’s POV

"What do you think she's going to say?" Fabio asks as he slips into the seat next to me.

I shift a little, putting just enough distance between us on the large sofa. I don't even glance in his direction; instead, my eyes are focused on the window that overlooks the side of the room.

We are on the highest floor in one of the lounges. A single flight of stairs leads up to the rooftop, but I have no intention of going there right now.

This window gives me a great view of the driveway down below, and I can see clearly as Jasmine walks out of the hotel, seeming rather in a hurry.

It takes all of my self-restraint not to let my intrusive thoughts win over; otherwise, I would have pulled out a pair of binoculars and gone full stalker mode on her.

Unfortunately for me, before I can think of anything else, she disappears through the gates of the hotel.

"Well?" Fabio repeats next to me. It takes me a while to register that he's even there in the first place.

"What do you want?" I ask, tearing my eyes away from the window. I pick the glass of martini from the table and drain the remaining contents into my mouth.

For me, there was basically no reason to remain sitting here, especially if the person I’ve been watching is already gone.

Fabio rolls his eyes.

He mutters something under his breath that I don't quite catch, although I can be rest assured it wasn't something pretty.

"Don't think I don't know about the extra stress you went through just to make sure that little miss Jasmine Taylor got an astronomical raise, and also an open employment into the Ferrari company."

First, I raise my index finger up, shushing him.

"I don't like you calling her that," I breathe, half glaring at him as I rise to my feet. "And second, I don't really care what you think, okay?"

"That's good because I'm going to say my piece anyway," Fabio folds his hands stubbornly. "I will say you're making this way too easy for her."

I am about to leave when his next words catch me off guard, making me pause and look back at him.

He always has this annoying talent of getting me to listen to him by saying things that are absolutely fuckworthy.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, my eyebrows quirking up.

If he's any smart—which he probably is—then he would instantly recognize the dangerous edge to my voice. It was literally screaming, *tread carefully, fucker.*

Fabio only shrugs at this point; he probably doesn't really value his life anymore.

"Look at it from anyone else's point of view, Nico. You are shoving everything forward at her face. How are you so certain that she won't just reject it all when you make it so easy?" he asks, making it sound casual enough.

I feel a dark look flashing across my eyes. "You are missing the whole point, Fabio. I'm not trying to catch her attention or anything. I'm not trying to win her over; she's already mine."

"She just doesn't know it yet," I add before turning around and making my way to the door.

"You pick your own fight, Ferrari," Fabio calls out after me.

I stop in my tracks, knowing exactly what he's talking about.

Going after another woman while Camila was still around was both dangerous for me and Jasmine. I was betraying not only my wife but the whole of the Ferrari family.

And then there were Camila's brothers to deal with. A bunch of motherfuckers who never really liked me. The bottom line is that if I don't tread carefully now, things could blow up into World War III.

"So leave me to deal with it," I say coldly, stepping out of the room this time.

But even after I walk away, I can’t unsay what has already been said, and his words stick to my head like a fucking lullaby on repeat on a bad night.

Hell, he's right. I was picking my fight.

I stop by the manager's office as I take the elevator down the floors.

I contemplate going in and having a little discussion with him. He has just one job to do: increase her pay and get her to quit the job to work at my company, where there are, without a doubt, fewer people who know her, and where I will have better access to her whenever I want to.

Okay, maybe that makes it two jobs, but he better do it well because those little actions of his would determine if he works around the hotel with his head on tomorrow.

I'm about to walk in when my phone beeps.

I give a sigh, feeling in my pocket and finally taking it out of my suit’s pocket.

My face changes, however, once I view the caller.

Mason Ferrari.

My lips thin into a tight frown.

Father always brings bad news. In fact, it is his modus operandi. It's like having a grief counselor watching everything unfold and playing Zeus at the corner, only stepping out when he thinks you can handle things.

"Hello, Mason," I say, walking away from the manager's office, already predicting that this is going to be a rather long call.

My loyalty is with my family; otherwise, there's a lot of things I would have already done and gotten away with, but I can't afford to betray them, so I decide to listen to him even though I already have a faint idea of what he's going to talk about.

"I don't have any time to waste," Mason's voice comes through the line.

I register the background noise and my brows crease into a frown.

Gunshots echo in the air from the other side of the line. I stop dead and look at the phone, my eyes widening in shock.

I quickly get over it, and the shock slowly morphs into anger.

"What's the matter?" I ask, breathing in, trying to calm the already rising anger inside me. There is a totally reasonable explanation for why Father would be close to a gun battle, and goddammit, he was probably participating in it too.

"A lot of things at the moment, Nico," Mason replies.

There is more noise in the background before everything dies down suddenly. "Sorry about that," he apologizes.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"An unexpected attack, what do you think? I'm the one supposed to be asking you questions here. What are you up to?"

I fold my face in anger. To think that someone or a group of people would dare to attack a member of my family.

It was a clear confrontation, no matter how I chose to look at it.

Someone was trying to get my attention, and they damn well had it.

"Who is it? I need names," I demand.

"I'm not sure," Mason says.

"But I'm always on alert."

I nod. Mason Ferrari was in the mafia business way longer than I have been and wasn't shallow enough to think that after he retired, he would be finally done with the dark world of ours.

More often than not, if I am dealing with a big mission or facing off against a tough rival, then it isn't exactly out of the ordinary to see them targeting my father instead, in hopes that they will be able to find a loophole in my defense and destabilize me.

But now, that was a problem because I haven't even started anything in New York yet, so why the hell did someone try to attack Mason?

The more I spend time thinking about it, the more I get fucking angry.

These people were probably most likely not a bunch of wannabes since they already knew how to pinpoint the exact location of Mason and attack him there. If they were to find out about Jasmine, then that would be a serious problem. I have to end it quick.

Gun them down first, ask questions later...

"I want names. Tell me who did this," I growl, my voice angry and lethal.

"Well, what do you think? Would I be calling you if I already knew the perpetrators?" Mason replies. Goddammit, he still has the nerve to be sarcastic, almost like people popping out of the blue and attacking him happened on a daily basis and no longer ruffled him.

I give a deep breath. He most likely didn't have a clue what was going on either.

"Where are you?" I ask.

"L.A.," his voice replies from the other end of the line.

"L.A.," I repeat, finally managing to regulate my breathing.

The same place where Jasmine is heading.

Then I know at once that I can't possibly leave her on her own there. A lot of things will go wrong, and it will be solely my fault.

"Right," I reply, keeping my voice neutral.

"I'll meet you there."