“I’ll be your Maid of Honor,” she said quietly.
“Thank God.” I put a hand on my chest in relief. “Otherwise I was going to have to ask Sophia, and can you imagine that speech?”
Her laugh was light before drifting off. “I have a doctor’s appointment today.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I smiled. “I can’t believe I’m going to be an aunt.”
She swallowed. “Elena, I was terrified they were going to kill him if they found out . . .” I knew she was trying to explain the reason she’d drunk so much. “And now I’m even more scared I’ve hurt the baby.”
“It’ll be okay.” I gave a piece of her hair a tug. “An Abelli is stronger than all that. Can you imagine hurting Tony with a few shots of vodka?”
She smiled. “A bullet doesn’t hurt Tony. Benito sure likes to whine about it, though.”
We laughed with a lightness that had been absent between us for a while. The amusement faded into an easy quiet.
“Love . . .” she started. “I guess it feels like you’re falling . . . and he’s the only one who could catch you.”
I thought about it for a second. “Sounds scary.”
She laughed. “No, not scary . . . thrilling.”
“For you, maybe. You’re not scared of anything.”
“You’re sure you aren’t in love?” she questioned once more, her gaze steady on mine.
“No, I’m really not.”
“Uh-oh,” she muttered.
Before I could question her, a loud commotion drifted up the stairs. The door slamming, masculine shouts . . .
I sat up, pushing the covers off.
When I recognized one of the angry men’s voices to be Nico’s, my stomach dropped to my toes. “Oh my god . . .”
My pulse trembled as I jumped out of bed and ran down the hall.
I froze at the top of the stairs.
If someone handcrafted nightmares for individuals, this would be mine. Anger permeated the air so thick it touched my skin. Luca, Lorenzo, and Ricardo stood in the foyer with tense countenances.
Something twisted in my chest as Nico and Benito got in each other’s faces and grabbed the other by the collar.
Nico shoved Benito against the wall hard enough a vase fell off the table and shattered. “You crossed a fucking line—”
“Ask me if I give a shit about your goddamn line.” My cousin pushed him back a foot.
“Maybe you’ll give a shit if I draw the line with your fucking body,” Nico growled.
They both had their guns pressed against the other’s temples before I could blink.
My heart turned to a block of ice.
The front door flew open and slammed against the wall. Papà, my brother, and Dominic stepped in.
Guns pointed in every direction.
Cazzo.
I think I really screwed up.
“We are all born mad. Some remain so.”
—Samuel Beckett
“SOMEBODY HAD BETTER START EXPLAINING what the fuck’s going on right now!” Papà snapped. When his gaze flicked to me at the top of the staircase, he paused and then his expression became even stormier. He shook his head, gesturing toward me with his gun. “Go to your room, Elena.”
On instinct, my feet began to comply.
“Stay.” Nico’s voice was a deep timbre of control.
He was the don right now. No soft edges.
I halted, my blood going cold with indecision.
Nico stepped away from Benito and faced my papà. My cousin and father had a gun aimed at his head while he held his by his side. A cold sweat drifted down my back.
Papà and Nico stared at each other, communicating with their eyes. Something only dons could understand.
“You’ve gone too fucking far,” Papà spit. “Elena is not yours until the marriage. And if you’ve somehow forgotten—that hasn’t fucking happened yet.”
“Let me enlighten you, Salvatore,” Nico growled. “As soon as the contract was signed she was mine.”
“Fuck the contract and. Fuck. You. Ace.”
Nico ran a hand across his jaw with sardonic amusement. “You’re backing out?”
“That’s what I said.”
My heart threatened to beat out of my chest.
Nico took a step toward my papà. “You want to know how to start a war with me, Salvatore? This would be how to do it.”
My eyes widened. This can’t be happening . . .
Papà’s jaw tightened. Tony and Dominic remained silent and unreadable, their attention and guns unmoving from the Russos in the foyer.