by L A Cotton
In its day it had probably been a sorting bay of some sort, boxes and crates littered around the place. I stepped over some debris, stopping before them. Nora was gagged, thrashing against her restraints, her eyes pleading with me to run.
“Where is he? Where is that fucker, Marchetti?” His voice rose, echoing around the warehouse, sending a violent shiver down my spine.
“Let Nora go, Scott,” I said, keeping to the script Luis and Nicco had gone over with me on the ride here. “She isn’t a part of this. You wanted me and I’m here. But you have to let Nora go.”
“You think I’m stupid?” He whipped out his gun, waving it around maniacally. I slowly lifted my hands into the air and inched closer. “Scott, look at me.”
He was jittery, and part of me wondered if he was on something. “Put the gun down and let Nora go, please.”
His gaze darted wildly between me and Nora.
“Let her go,” I urged. “If you care about me at all, please, you need to let her go.”
He stilled; my words finally reaching something deep inside him. “You’ll stay?”
I nodded. He was unhinged, utterly deluded. But it worked. Appealing to the part of Scott that was infatuated with me, made him begin to untie Nora.
The second she was free, I beckoned her toward me.
“Wait.” He cocked the gun at her.
“Scott.” Fear trickled through me, turning my blood to ice. “Let her go and we can talk. Just you and me.”
I silently prayed Nicco was somewhere inside the building. Luis and Enzo too. But I daren’t look for fear of distracting him.
“Slowly,” he ordered Nora to start walking.
She came toward me and I dropped my hand, brushing her fingers. “Go and don’t look back, okay?” I whispered and she nodded, tears streaming down her face. Aside from a split in her lip and some bruising around her cheek, she looked to be okay. But I knew better than most, it wasn’t the physical scars that stayed with you.
Nora took off toward the maze of huge steel shelving.
“Thank you.” I gave Scott my full attention.
“I had to do something... I couldn’t get to you, but I knew you’d come for her. You hurt me, baby. You really fucking hurt me.” He advanced toward me and I slowly tracked backwards, trying to keep a safe distance between us. The gun was still in his hand, but he wasn’t waving it around now. His eyes were locked on mine. Hatred and lust swirling in their depths. He was at war with himself. Scott wanted me. But part of him wanted to hurt me too.
“You were supposed to be mine,” he ground out.
“I’m here now.” My conscience screamed in protest at the declaration. I would never be his, but he needed to think I was on his side.
I kept moving, turning us so his back was to the only way in and out. He was fixated on me, exactly as I’d known he would be.
“You betrayed me,” he spat the words. “All you had to do was love me. Me, Arianne. I would have given you everything. I would have made you my queen. But Marchetti swooped in and ruined everything. I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him. And then I’ll finally take what’s mine.”
The hand holding the gun grew twitchy again as he waved it in my direction. I was paralyzed, rooted to the spot as pain splintered through me. But I forced down the tears, refusing to show him even an ounce of weakness.
“We can talk about this,” I said.
“Maybe I don’t want to talk.” His eyes were black, soulless, as he prowled toward me. “Maybe I’m done talking. You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t know he’s out there somewhere, waiting for his moment to strike?
“What are you waiting for, Marchetti?” He yelled. “Come save your woman. Come save her before I—”
“Scott...” I was losing him.
“You. Are. Mine.” The venom in his words cut my skin like shards of glass. “If I can’t have you.” He raised the gun higher. “No one ca—”
Nicco came out of nowhere, grabbing Scott and yanking him backward. “Nicco,” I screamed as a gunshot rang out. I was thrown backwards, pain ricocheting through me as I hit the ground hard. Stars exploded in my vision.
“Motherfucker,” someone grunted, their voices teetering on the edge of my consciousness.
“I should have done this a long time ago.”
Nicco.
That was Nicco.
I blinked, bringing a hand to my head as I tried to sit up. Nicco was on top of Scott, the two of them jostling for control. Nicco rained his fists down on Scott, the sickening crunch of bone on bone filling the cavernous room.
“Nicco,” I cried, still disorientated. I patted myself down for any signs of blood but there was nothing. The bulletproof vest had done its job.
“She. Is. Mine,” Scott roared. “I had her first. Me. You think you can take her from me?”
Another sickening crunch rang out. “She will never be yours,” Nicco ground out, his voice cold and deadly. “I should have done this a long time ago.” He pressed the barrel of his gun right to Scott’s temple. “You will never touch Arianne again. Never look at her. Never breathe the same air as her.”
Time seemed to slow down as I watched Nicco whisper something to him.
But Scott didn’t look scared, he looked... pleased, his lip curving into a wicked smirk. I saw his hand move, saw the glint of metal.
“Nicco, he has a—”
My scream filled the warehouse as I watched in horror as the knife in Scott’s hand sank into Nicco. His body locked with pain, realization washing over him as Scott shoved him away.
Nicco rolled away, landing with a thud, a pool of dark red blood seeping between his fingers as he clutched his chest. “Bambolina...” It was a breathy moan as he reached for me.
“No,” I cried. “No.” Clambering to my feet, I rushed over to his side. There was too much blood. “You’re okay,” I said, dropping to my knees. “I’m right here.”
“I’m sorry, amore mio, I’m... so fucking sorry.” His words were cracked, blood trickling from his mouth.
“Ssh, ssh.” I leaned down, kissing his head. “You’re going to be okay.”
“Ari, I need to look at him.” Luis gently eased me away. I hadn’t even heard him arrive. Hadn’t noticed Enzo apprehend Scott, keeping his pistol trained firmly on his head.
“Talk to me, Vitelli,” he called over to us.
“There’s too much blood.” Luis cast me a grim look and then looked at Enzo. “He needs medical attention, now.”
“Nicco.” I clutched his hand, blood squelching between our fingers. But I didn’t care. As long as he was breathing, as long as I felt his fingers still curled around mine, he was alive. “You have to hold on, okay?” Pain ripped through me. “I need you... I need you.”
“He’s not looking so good. If I can’t have you do you really think I would ever let him have you?” The sick and twisted amusement in Scott’s voice flipped something inside me, and without thinking, I pulled away from Nicco and stood up. My hand went to the waistband of my jeans.
“Arianne,” Luis yelled, but it was too late. I was consumed with hatred, with the overpowering need to hurt Scott the way he had hurt me so many times.
“Anger looks good on you, Principessa.” He grinned as I stalked toward him, as if this was all part of his game.
Well, I was done playing.
“Ari,” Enzo warned as I creeped closer.
“Relax,” Scott chuckled. “She won’t hurt me. She doesn’t have it in—”
I barely felt the blade pierce the soft tissue of his neck. Barely registered the blood spraying out of his jugular, coating my hand and clothes like a jet spray of red paint. Barely heard his garbled pleas for help as the blood filled his mouth, trickling down his chin like juice from a ripe strawberry.
“Fuck,” Enzo holstered his gun and slowly took the bloodied knife from my hand. “Ari, look at me.”
My eyes snapped to his as if waking up from a trance. “He’s dead.” I glanced down a
t Scott’s lifeless body.
“He is,” Enzo said. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”
But when I glanced back at Nicco, at the pool of blood circling him, his shallow breaths and the pallor to his skin, I knew it was too late.
Scott had taken everything from me.
There was no future without Nicco. No life or happiness. There was only pain and grief and hurt.
Nicco was my heart.
The other half of my soul.
I didn’t want to live in a world without him.
As I stared at him, the only man I would ever love, and watched the life drain from his eyes, I wanted that too.
I wanted to die.
Chapter 33
Arianne
The days were long, and my heart was broken.
It had been two weeks since Nicco died in that building.
Two weeks of unimaginable anguish and pain.
I’d wanted to die that day. To follow him into the afterlife. But Enzo and Luis had grounded me, Nora too. They had stood by my side, watching as the EMTs rushed into the warehouse and began working on Nicco, trying to stem the bleeding and find a pulse.
Tears burned my throat just thinking about it. Within less than twenty-four hours I had gone from a bride so full of love and hope for the future, to a murderer with blood on my hands, mourning a loss so inconceivable I didn’t think I would survive it.
But I couldn’t regret killing Scott.
I could only regret that I didn’t do it the first time around, when I’d had the chance.
Maybe then we wouldn’t be here now.
“Arianne.” Tristan stood as I entered the room. He came over and pulled me into his arms. “How are you?”
“I feel empty inside.” My hand fluttered to my chest.
“You can’t think like that. He wouldn’t want you to.”
“I just don’t know how I’m supposed to do this without him, Tristan.” Tears poured down my cheeks.
My cousin took my face in his hands. “You have hope. The doctors said he’s stable. His body just needs time.”
Time.
I’d already survived fourteen days without him, I didn’t want to survive another.
“Thank you.” I wiped my eyes on my sleeves. “For staying with him.” Moving over to the bed, I gently brushed the hair from Nicco’s eyes. His skin was sallow, and his eyes were sunken. A tube connected him to the machine breathing for him.
He’d died that day, on the cold floor of the warehouse, but the EMT’s had brought him back. Twice, in fact. They’d managed to stop the bleeding and save his punctured lung, but Nicco hadn’t woken up. They said his body needed to repair itself.
They said he needed time.
But time didn’t feel like our friend, it felt like our enemy, closing in around us.
Sitting down, I took his hand in mine. “It’s me,” I said. “It’s day fifteen without you, and I need you to wake up now. Please, Nicco.” I kissed his knuckles. “I need you to wake up.”
“I’ll give the two of you some space.” Tristan’s hand rested on my shoulders. I glanced up at him, offering him a weak smile.
“Thank you.”
After Nicco was moved out of the ICU into his own room, I’d refused to leave his side. For four nights, I had slept curled up on the couch, before Matteo and Enzo practically dragged me out of there. They made Genevieve and Alessia take me back to the house and make sure I got a shower and ate something other than stale sandwiches from the hospital vending machine.
Now we had a schedule. Someone was always with him so that I could try and look after myself too.
A knock on the door startled me and I glanced back to find Enzo standing there. “I know it’s your time with him but I—”
“It’s fine, you can come in.”
Enzo had taken it the hardest. I knew he blamed himself. It was something we had in common.
“How’s Nora?” I asked when he dropped into the chair at the other side of Nicco’s bed.
“She’s... okay.” He frowned.
“It’s okay that you’re spending time with her, you know?”
“It’s not like that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She just helps me—”
My hand shot up. “I don’t need to know the details.”
That made him smile, but it quickly disappeared when he settled his eyes back on Nicco. “Come on, Cous. We need you to wake up.”
“Do you think he can hear us?”
“The doc says talking helps. But I always feel like an idiot, sitting here, talking to myself.”
Silence enveloped us. Enzo was still as intimidating as ever, but something had changed between us since that day.
“Killing someone changes you,” he’d said to me in the hospital as we waited for news about Nicco.
I felt different but not in the way I'd expected.
I’d been so against Nicco and Antonio dealing with Mike Fascini and his deranged son in their way, I hadn’t stopped to consider that maybe we all possessed darkness inside us. It just didn’t appear until you were pushed to your limits.
I was hardly surprised my limit was Scott hurting Nicco.
I’d let him hurt me, taunt me, and tease me. I’d let him do despicable things to me. But watching him drive that knife into Nicco had ignited a fire inside me, and in that moment, the darkness had shrouded me.
A shudder rolled through me. We’d been through so much.
Too much.
“You’ll learn to live with it,” Enzo said, as if he could hear my thoughts.
“There’s nothing to live with.” I looked him dead in the eye. “I did what I had to, and I’d do it again, a thousand times over.”
He dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, studying me. “You know, you’re kind of scary right now.”
“I’m Capizola and Marchetti. You should be scared.” My lip curved, and laughter rumbled in his chest.
“He won’t like it, you know.” His eyes flicked to Nicco.
“It doesn’t matter,” I replied.
All that mattered was that Nicco came back to me.
THREE DAYS LATER, I’D finally got the call I’d been waiting for.
“He’s awake,” Alessia had squealed down the line.
I’d abandoned Genevieve in the kitchen and asked Luis to drive me straight to the hospital.
“He’s going to be disoriented,” Luis said. “The doctors said it could still be a long road to recovery.”
“I know.” My body hummed with trepidation as we rode the elevator to Nicco’s floor. “He’s awake, Luis. I didn’t think—”
“I know.” He took my hand, squeezing it gently. “I know.”
The second the doors pinged open, I took off running, skidding to a halt when I spotted him through the blinds. Nicco was sitting up, laughing at something Alessia was telling him. He must have felt me watching because his eyes found me, shining with relief.
I’d been so eager to see him, but now the moment had come I couldn’t make my legs work.
“He’s all yours.” Alessia appeared at the door. “Luis can treat me to ice cream in the cafe.” She skipped past me and grabbed his hand, dragging him down the hall.
I entered the room, freezing when our eyes collided again.
“Bambolina.” His voice was cracked.
“You’re awake,” I breathed. “You’re really awake.” The invisible thread between us snapped taut, pulling me toward him. “How are you feeling?” I reached for Nicco’s hand, smothering a whimper when his fingers tightened around mine.
“Ssh, don’t cry. Please...”
“I thought I’d lost you.” My teary gaze dropped to the bed. “I thought you were—”
“Arianne, look at me.” Slowly, I lifted my eyes to his. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
“You died, Nicco. I watched you die.” All the pain and heartache of the last couple of weeks hit me like a wrecking ball. Big, fat, ugly tears rolled down my cheeks as
I tried to process everything.
“Ssh, amore mio.” His thumb brushed my cheeks. “I’m here. I’m right here. He can’t hurt us anymore.”
I stiffened.
“It’s okay. I know what happened. I know what you did, Bambolina. And one day, we will need to talk about it. But not today.” He gave me a warm smile. “Right now, I just want to enjoy this moment. I love you, Arianne Carmen Lina Marchetti, and I’ll never leave you again.”
His words sank into me, flooding me with a sense of peace I hadn’t felt since our wedding day.
“I love you too,” I whispered, kissing the tips of his fingers.
Nicco always said that he would die for me.
What I hadn’t realized then, was I would do the same for him.
Love made us strong.
It gave us something to protect.
Something to fight for.
But, most of all, it gave us something to live for.
Epilogue
Nicco
Three weeks later...
“Nicco, put me down,” Arianne’s shrieks filled the apartment as I carried her over the threshold.
“Welcome home, Wife.” I nuzzled her neck. My body ached like a motherfucker, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
Arianne had been watching me like a hawk since I was released from the hospital. It was cute at first, but now it was starting to test my patience. I wanted to touch her. To strip her naked and make love to her. But Arianne took her job as nursemaid very seriously.
“Tonight, we’re going to christen our new bedroom, and maybe the kitchen counter, and shower too.”
She pressed her hands to my chest. “You’re still healing.”
“I’m fine.” But I wouldn’t be fine if she denied me again.
“Nicco...” She pouted.
“I’m fine. See.” I twirled us around, wincing in agony as my muscles contracted. “Fuck.”
Arianne wriggled out of my arms, sliding to the floor. “I’ll call the doctor.” She went to move but I snagged her wrist.
