Chapter 9: Nine

—NICO'S POV—

Shadows of the past converge,

A tiny figure, a familiar surge.

I scroll through the files on my desk, but I can't concentrate.

Those innocent green eyes stare back at me wherever I go. It's impossible.

A little kid, barely more than a baby, maybe a couple of years old. As someone who grew up facing the heartless side of humanity from the onset, I never bore any sentiment toward kids. But it's different.

"Leave me and my son alone," Jasmine's desperate cry fills my ears, even though it has been a whole half-hour since I drove away from her little apartment and back to the hotel.

Her son...

Could it be...

My grip on the pen in my hand tightens so much that I'm about to snap it in two.

A lot can happen in three years, a voice in my head says to me.

Back in Jasmine's apartment, I was barely able to control myself. But that kid... I pause, swallowing hard.

Why did the thought scare the crap out of me? I have faced off against rival mafias and conquered the whole of Italy, making my base in nearly every inch of the capital city. I caused a stir in America.

The Shadows Wolf Pack respects me more than their own Mafia. I endanger my life at least once every damn month, and I've never felt a tinge of nerves.

So why does the thought of having a son somewhere make me so damn flustered?

An illegitimate son... I know just what the Ferrari family would do about it.

I clench my fist in rage.

I should be unconcerned, but there’s a high chance that kid belongs to me. Why do I feel the need to protect him with everything I have? Why don’t I want him to grow up thinking that his dad was too busy to care?

"Hey Nico, get your ass down already. No time for sentiments!" Fabio's loud, cheery voice cuts through my train of thought as the door is flung open.

"Goodness, I've never seen you so goddamn concentrated on anything," he remarks as he takes in the sight of me beside the study desk, bent over the files.

Except that I wasn't even concentrating—well, maybe on the need not to drive right back to Jasmine's apartment and kidnap her and the boy to someplace where it would just be the three of us.

I reluctantly stand up and make my way towards the door of the room.

Fabio narrows his eyes at me. He walks towards the table instead. I hear a continuous flipping sound and look over my shoulder to see him scrolling through the files on my desk.

"Oi, Nic, you're not even working." His brows furrow as he looks back up at me.

"Surprise, surprise," I give him a forced grin.

He folds his arms instead.

I sigh, knowing that he wasn't going to let this go just yet.

"I'm perfectly fine," I cut in just as he was about to open his mouth to speak.

"No, don't give me the fuck-off attitude," he shakes his head, "unless you're ready to face another confrontation with Camila all on your own this time..."

"Fabio," I call out warningly.

"You know how well it went the last time," he continues, his eyes blazing.

"Shut the hell up!" I was in front of him within seconds, gripping him by the collar, my free hand balling into a fist.

He laughs, a cruel, mocking sound.

"Go on and punch me, then," Fabio taunts.

I glare at him and let him go. We didn't talk about that time.

Both the Ferrari and Dan Loren families demanded an heir to the Mafia from the both of us. I didn't want to comply.

I still believed that I had a better ending. But that led to a huge falling out between us.

The entire Mafia and Camila versus me.

No one in the Mafia talked about it and simply referred to it as "the confrontation."

"What's wrong with you?" Fabio asks. He dusts his leather suit and smooths out the creases. The next time his eyes meet mine, there's the slightest bit of concern hidden in his dark soul.

"Nothing," I spit out and walk out of the room.

Fabio doesn't try to stop me.

I walk down the unfamiliar corridors.

We have the whole of this floor booked for our short stay in Washington.

I take out the map that the manager handed me and make my way to the penthouse. It's a lucky guess, but I can only assume that’s where the rest of the men will be waiting.

As I step into the penthouse, the warm glow of the morning sun casts a faint golden light over the sleek, modern furniture.

The room is empty, unlike how I previously envisioned it to be.

Down the spacious hall of the penthouse is Camila Dan Loren, leaning against the rails.

Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders, reaching her back. There's a quiet grace around her, almost royalty.

I take a deep breath and make my way to her. The room is so silent that the only thing I can hear is the sound of my boots against the glass tiles, and I can see my reflection from the gleaming surface.

She turns around as I approach her, dressed rather corporately in a sky-blue Vuitton shirt over straight black pants. She is pure beauty and grace, but for some reason, which I already know, we just don't click like normal couples.

For a moment, I'm unsure of what to say, but then she breaks the silence instead.

"Who was that waitress?" she asks, getting straight to the point.

I'm a bit shocked, but I know that she’s referring to Jasmine. This must have been the confrontation that Fabio was talking about.

"No one that you should be worried about," I reply, giving her the safest answer.

She folds her arms. Her eyes are a deep shade of blue, and they contain something darker now.

"Of course, I know that." Camila nods and steps away from me. "A puny little hotel worker isn't going to make me worried."

I frown at her. Camila's possessive nature is coming into full view, and a part of me does not like that she’s talking about Jasmine like that, but I know better than to react.

Camila turns around and stalks off, looking like she has said her piece.

I almost breathe a sigh of relief when she stops by the door and turns to face me one more time.

"Especially when I have all the means to get rid of her," Camila adds.

I pause and stare back at her, but she's gone in a heartbeat, leaving behind her threat. I know damn well that she isn't one to give empty threats.

I bite my lower lip and clench my fist in frustration.

"Perfect," I mutter under my breath.

What am I to do if Camila decides to look into Jasmine? And what if she finds out about the kid?

I don't even know what to do about the kid myself, but one thing is for sure.

If Camila finds out that I have an heir somewhere, another Mafia clash might just occur.

"The great Nico Ferrari," someone grips me by the shoulders in greeting.

I look behind me to see the manager. I should have already guessed it was him from the accent.

"Morning," I greet stiffly and shake him off.

He steps back from me and assesses me closely.

I continue to stand there, my mind filled with a lot of thoughts. I barely notice him at all and instead search my mind for a way to get out of my current predicament.

I turn around, about to leave the hall. Most of the time, the only thing that really calms me down is a long walk in the park or simply joyriding across the plains.

"Ferrari," the manager’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. He’s still standing there, a curious look on his face. "Is everything alright?"

I nod sharply, even though everything is far from alright.

If even the manager is starting to notice the difference in my usual cold demeanor, then I really need to act fast.

"Fine," I lie.

It comes as easily as doing anything else.

"Just a lot on my mind." The last part is a bit more of the truth.

He raises an eyebrow at me.

He seems unconvinced, but doesn’t push further. Wisely so, too.

Instead, he hands me a sealed envelope. "This came for you earlier."

My eyes narrow, and I take it without a word, tearing it open. Inside is a simple note, written in neat, careful handwriting.

"Meet me at the docks. Midnight. Come alone."

No signature, no indication of who it might be from. But I don’t need one. I know exactly who it is and what they want.

Looks like things are about to get even more complicated.