When She Loves (The Fallen, #4)(89)

Nero sits down, making the couch groan. “Have you talked to Gino?”

I take a seat across from him. “Sandro, see if you can make some coffee.”

He gets the hint and leaves. Nero gives me a weary look, like he knows I wouldn’t need privacy if I had any good news to deliver. No, there’s little good about any of this.

I drag my fingers through my hair. “Gino wants you dead.”

Nero’s expression turns frozen.

“He’s furious at how this ended with his nephew. He wants me to make it right. I offered him money. I offered him territory. He said no.”

My consigliere is completely still. He doesn’t even blink. I’m not sure he’s breathing. He just stares at me from under his thick brows, an air of disbelief swirling around him.

“Fuck, Nero. Say something.”

A beat passes. Finally, he huffs a bitter laugh. “For the first time in my entire life, I’ve got nothing.”

And neither do I. I’m supposed to be the guy with the solutions, but all I see are problems coming at me one after the other.

“Tell me, if you don’t make it right, what will happen?” Nero asks.

“He’ll do it himself. And if he can’t kill you, he’ll declare war. He’ll start by trying to turn the remaining Garzolos to his side. I haven’t had enough time to prove myself to that family, and not everyone’s thrilled with having me as their don. He won’t have to work hard to find allies. Gino Ferraro isn’t Stefano Garzolo. He’s intelligent, and he’s got his three sons to do his bidding. It will get bloody.”

Nero’s gaze gets even darker. “Sounds like a mess.”

“It is a fucking mess.”

He swallows. “You’re thinking about doing it then?”

Aggravation slithers down my spine, followed by shame and a healthy dose of disgust. “Of course, I’m thinking about it.” I have to. I’m a don, and that means making impossible choices.

“Fucking shit.” He swipes his hand over his lips. “Somehow, I managed to convince myself over the years that you care just a little about me.”

“I don’t want to do this, Nero,” I growl. “But I can’t ignore all the logical downstream effects if I don’t do what Gino wants.”

The coffee table goes flying toward me. I jump to my feet, pull out my gun, and point it at him. The air around us crackles with tension.

“You and your fucking logic,” he spits out, his eyes ablaze with anger and hurt. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need to know how you’ll rationalize this.” He advances until the barrel of my gun presses up against his chest. “Do it, Rafe. Just fucking do it. I can tell you want to. It’s the logical thing to do, isn’t it?”

My index finger hovers above the trigger. Seconds tick by.

It is logical. But it feels so fucking wrong that I can taste bile coming up my throat.

“I thought you’d finally changed,” Nero whispers. “Because of the girl. Because of your wife.”

That word triggers a flood of memories.

The way I kissed her at the altar. The way she looked at me when I told her it was over. The way my chest spasmed when she said those three fucking words.

“You were right,” I whisper back. “I never should have gotten involved with her.”

He curls his hand over the barrel, keeping it steady. “I don’t blame her for this. You shouldn’t either.” He leans even closer, his gaze piercing through me. “At least she showed you what it feels like to be human.”

Something is lodged inside my throat. A pressure builds behind my eyes.

Do it. Pull the trigger. I trained you for this.

At thirteen, I listened to my father’s words.

But at twenty-seven…I don’t.

I jerk the gun out of Nero’s grip and lower it. Surprise and then relief flash in his eyes. I turn away from him and cross the room, putting some distance between us. A headache blooms inside my skull. I want to claw my fucking brains out.

Some minutes pass before Nero asks, “Why didn’t you do it?”

I shake my head, refusing to meet his eye. “I don’t know.”

He huffs. “So what now?”

“We’ve got time. It’s not morning yet.”

Nero checks his watch. “Five hours until sunrise. Until Ferraro sends his army after me. How do you want to spend them?” He spreads his arms and laughs, but it’s humorless. “Not much entertainment around here. I might be able to find us a deck of cards.”

My pocket starts vibrating. I place my gun on the coffee table and dig the phone out of my jacket.

“Ferraro?” Nero asks.

I stare at the caller ID. “No. It’s De Rossi.” Why is he calling? Is Cleo with him by now? Not wanting to torture myself by wondering about it all night, I pick up. “Is she with you?”

“Yeah. We’re leaving with her in the morning.”

A heaviness settles inside my chest, but I ignore it. “Good.” The words taste like ash on my tongue.

“We heard what Ferraro wants.”

I grunt in response.

“Are you with Nero right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you figured a way out of it?”