Nicoli: A Forbidden Romance (Dark Sovereign Book 4)
Nicoli: Chapter 4

If I had a nickel every time that woman pissed me off, I’d be the goddamn Trevi Fountain. The only difference would be I wouldn’t have good luck coming out of my ass, but rather a thousand fucks spitting out of my mouth.

It’s not even nine in the morning, and already I’m loosening my tie so I can breathe, unbuttoning my collar.

Goddamn, stubborn, infuriating woman, pissing me off first thing in the morning with the reckless notion that she’s going to a club on her birthday. I bet she’ll be dressed in a short, tight, red skirt that emphasizes her firm, round ass, with a backless blouse showing more skin than a club full of horny fuckers looking to get their dicks wet need to see. I can already imagine men drooling after her lush, red lips with the perfect Cupid’s bow, their thoughts filled with fantasies about kissing her. Touching her. Undressing her. Fucking her.

I’m going to kill someone.

And After Dark, of all places! Nope. No. Over my dead fucking body is she going to that place. I’d love to know how she’s even aware After Dark exists. It only opened a few weeks ago, and we’ve never even spoken about or mentioned it because we avoid anything and everything with the name Ferrero attached to it—with good reason. That’s also why I’m currently on my way to replace Maximo, because when it comes to his sister, having him on my side always backs her into a corner she can’t come out of. And that’s where I want her right now…in a fucking corner.

The large pocket door that leads to the Dark Sovereign chamber is open, and I’m hoping to replace Maximo there, but instead it’s my youngest brother sitting at the table, his expression pensive.

“Have you seen Maximo?” I bark.

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Why do you look more pathetic than usual?”

He snorts. “God, you’re an asshole.”

I walk in and across the burgundy carpet, highlighting the gold trimmings, then take my seat across from him. There are five black, button-tufted executive chairs at this table that represent the five men of this family. Alexius has the throne, his chair marked with the silver and gold symbol of the Dark Sovereign. Mine is on his right while Caelian flanks his left. Isaia and Maximo sit across from us, our ranks apparent for anyone who walks in here.

It used to be my father, Alexius and me, and our uncles—the Savelli brothers—who sat around this table. But after my father died and Alexius took over as leader of this family, Roberto tried everything to undermine and dethrone him. Roberto wanted to form alliances with others, expand the Dark Sovereign to members with the biggest bank accounts. Unfortunately for him, he underestimated our determination to keep the Dark Sovereign the way it has always been. A family-run empire.

The sun is high, casting rays past the magnolia-colored curtains draped to the sides of the windows.

“Seriously, this isn’t a fucking sunroom. Why are you in here?”

“I dunno.” He stares at Alexius’ seat. “It’s just hard some days.”

“What’s hard?”

“That I’m finally sitting here at this table, and he’s not here.” He shifts. “I guess it would have been kind of awesome if Dad was still here to see all his sons sit around the Dark Sovereign table.”

My little brother’s sentiments brush off on me, a pang of grief knocking at my chest. “Yeah. It would have been kind of awesome. He would have been proud.”

“And I think he would have loved that Maximo is a part of it now.”

“Father always saw Maximo as his son. There’s no doubt that Maximo was always meant to have a seat.”

“True. I have shit to do.” I stand. “If you see Maximo, tell him I need to speak to him.”

“About?”

“About his sister being a giant-sized pain in my ass.”

I hear Isaia chuckle as I stomp out of the Dark Sovereign chamber. After twenty minutes of searching the entire estate, dropping f-bombs like it’s a goddamn trend, I finally replace Maximo in the driveway talking with the guards. Instantly, warning prickles the back of my scalp because why the fuck is he speaking with security? Do we have a problem? Because God knows, that’s the last thing I need right now…another fucking problem.

“Something I need to know about?” I don’t give a shit about cutting Maximo’s sentence short.

He places his hands on his hips, squaring his shoulders. “Nope. Just a regular morning briefing.”

“Awesome. Now, fuck off,” I bark at the guards, then look at Maximo. “I have something I want to discuss with you.”

Maximo rubs his forehead. “What did my sister do now?”

“How do you know it’s about Mira?”

“Because you look like you’re about to cut something, and usually that means my sister did something.”

“It’s not something she did. It’s something she thinks she’s going to do, but hell will freeze over before I allow her to do that something because that something she wants to do is reckless and stupid, and she’s not fucking doing it.”

Maximo lifts a brow, blinking once, twice… “Can you say that again? I didn’t get the first part.”

“Your little sister wants to go to After Dark for her birthday.”

And there it is—the instant disappearance of sarcasm and the immediate onset of a giant ‘fuck-no’ expression on his face. “That’s not happening.”

“That’s what I told her.”

“Did she stab you after you told her that?”

“I saw the glint of a knife in her eyes, yes.”

Maximo rubs the back of his neck, looking down as he kicks at the asphalt. “She won’t go.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“She won’t go alone, and where will she replace someone to go with her?”

“Oh, see, this is where your little sister is really fucking smart.” I narrow my eyes, pushing my finger into my temple. “She convinced Leandra to go with her.”

Maximo shrugs. “Problem solved, then. There’s no way Alexius will let Leandra go.”

I press my lips into a thin line, staring at him, deadpan, and realization punches him right in the face.

“Fuck. Goddammit!”

“Yup. My twin brother seems to love having his balls tied up.”

“He knows After Dark is run by the Ferrero family.”

“He does. Mirabella and Leandra don’t. And even if they do, they won’t know what it means. Not like us.”

Maximo curses, then turns and stares at the sky like the answer to our problem is about to drop out of the sky. “We can’t make an issue about this.” He faces me again. “My sister is like a fucking bloodhound. If we blow this shit up and refuse to let them go, Mira will be up our asses and push every goddamn button for answers.”

I scoff. “Yeah. Your sister has a real talent for pushing all the wrong buttons.”

“She’ll ask questions and demand answers. Answers we can’t give her.”

I kick at the ground and swing to the side, clutching my forehead, nostrils flaring and veins searing. “Fuck.”

“You know what this means, right?”

I glance at him. “We’re going to After Dark?”

“Looks like it, yeah.”

“Christ.” I take a deep breath, rolling my shoulders. “We still have eyes on the Ferreros?”

“You know it.”

“There’s nothing we need to be concerned about?”

Maximo shakes his head. “Nothing. You know, maybe—”

“Maybe, what?”

He shrugs. “It’s been seventeen years. Maybe it’s time to accept that there’s no longer a threat.”

I smirk, not because he’s funny, but because he’s an idiot. “I will never accept that there is no threat. As long as I fucking breathe, as long as the Ferreros breathe, I will live like those fuckers have a nuclear weapon with your and your sister’s names on it. Those assholes won’t ever catch me off-guard because I underestimated them, whether it’s seventeen years or fifty.” I step up close to him. “You know how they say to rather live like there is a God and replace out there isn’t one than live like there isn’t one only to replace out that there is a God? Well, I would rather live like there is a threat and die a happy man after years of peace than not expect a threat and end up losing everything I care about because I made a stupid mistake by thinking the Ferreros’ business with your family ended the night they slaughtered your parents.”

Maximo takes a sharp inhale, cranking his neck from side to side. “You’re right.”

“You bet your fucking ass I am.”

“Fine. I’ll, uh…I’ll make sure we have backup at the club, have eyes in the surrounding buildings.”

“Good.” I roll my shoulders. “In the meantime, I have two weeks to replace a way to piss her off and have her lock herself in her room so we can just avoid this entire situation altogether.”

Maximo snorts as he pulls out his phone, pacing while barking orders at whoever is on the receiving end, putting security in place for this weekend.

I light a cigarette, take a long, hard drag, and close my eyes as it fills my lungs, holding it for as long as possible before letting it out, the puff of smoke dissipating in the air. That woman has a rare talent of getting under my skin without even trying, and it’s infuriating as fuck.

“We’ll have eyes and ears all over that club,” Maximo confirms before slipping his phone back into his jacket pocket. I see the lines on his forehead, the twitch along his left eyebrow. He’s worried. Of course, he is. Maybe I didn’t have to be such an asshole by laying it on thick when all he did was suggest that perhaps the Ferreros are no longer a threat to him and his sister. They killed Maximo’s parents because they wanted complete control of the drug trade on these streets. It was a good, old-fashioned turf war, an assassination to gain power. And with the Tirelli family out of the way, they grow their empire one drug shipment at a time. And since the day the Dark Sovereign withdrew from the trade, they have the monopoly when it comes to drugs. Because of Maximo and Mirabella’s parents, my father cut all ties with that market. It was out of respect for their loss. Even though Maximo and Mirabella were no threat to their business, and still aren’t, we’ve always kept a close eye on the Ferreros, ensuring they don’t come after the Tirelli siblings. Families like ours don’t like leaving loose ends. But it’s been seventeen years. So maybe Maximo is right to think that threat might never come.

I take another drag from my cigarette. “You okay…you know, with today—”

“Yeah, man. I’m fine.”

“And Mira? Is she okay?”

“I think so,” he replies, dragging his fingers through his dark hair. “She, um…she mentioned Marco this morning.” He gives me a knowing look, and I stiffen. “I hate it when she tries to talk about him.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, keeping myself from saying something because God knows I’ll end up saying the wrong fucking thing right now.

“You know,” he starts, “if you want to know how she’s doing, you can ask her yourself.”

I glare at him. “You and I both know it’s best if I don’t.”

“You’re simply asking her how she’s doing, man. You’re not asking her to have your fucking baby.” His expression says he’s getting kind of sick of my bullshit. I get sick of my own bullshit sometimes, too.

“Asking her how she’s doing today of all days is a potential opening for emotions and feelings to surface, and that’s not exactly the kind of conversation I want to get caught up in with her.”

“I get it. I do—”

“No. I don’t think you do.”

“You don’t have to be a dick to her every single day, Nicoli. Especially not today. If she ends up crying, just comfort her. It won’t mean anything.”

“It will to me,” I say, tossing my cigarette to the ground and stomping it into the asphalt, annoyed at him because I know he knows better. I’ve spent years perfecting this fucking charade. I can’t risk breaking it all down simply because I want to know whether she’s okay.

“Anyway. I have shit to do.” I pull my tie back in place and smooth it down my chest. “Looking forward to our night out. Make sure you get your nails done and buy yourself a new dress.”

Maximo gives me the finger, and I smirk. “And here I thought you were more of a two-finger kind of girl.”