“Yeah.”
I lean back. “When it comes to Leandra, I don’t have a fucking clue. But what I do know is there’s not a chance in hell she’s walking out of here. Especially now that she’s carrying my children.”
“I agree.”
I frown. “You do?”
“Yeah. I don’t necessarily agree with your actions to keep her from leaving, but,” he shrugs, “I know that if it were me, I wouldn’t let her walk out my door either.”
“This isn’t how I intended all of this to play out,” I say, swirling the glass and watching the amber liquid ripple against the crystal.
“You’re kidding, right?” He lights a cigarette, a plume of smoke drifting toward the ceiling. “You didn’t think fucking with her birth control and her finding out about it would end with her wanting your balls on a poker?”
“She wasn’t supposed to find out.”
“Of course not. But she did. Problem is, you made a big mistake turn into a giant-sized dick that’s been fucking you in the ass ever since you locked her bedroom door.” He points upward at the second floor, the cigarette caught between two fingers. “And now you need to figure out a way to unfuck yourself.”
“Jesus Christ.” I roll my eyes, pulling my palm down my face. “You’re such an asshole.”
“I don’t disagree. But at least I’m a smart asshole. You’re just an asshole. Seriously, though,” he puts out his cigarette, “what are you going to do?”
Whiskey laps onto my tongue, and I swallow, relishing how it burns as it travels down my throat. “I know what I’m not going to do.” I peer at him. “I’m not losing her.”
“What if you already have?”
“I haven’t.” My reply is curt. It’s a thought I refuse to dwell on or acknowledge in any way. Losing Leandra is not an option. Not now. Not ever. “I’ll figure it out,” is the only answer I give him, and he nods.
“I have no doubt that you will.” For a moment, his expression becomes solid. “Whatever you need from me, you’ve got it, brother. I will always support you, no matter what.”
I take a deep breath, my chest widening beneath my white dress shirt. Knowing I have his support gives me a sense of relief. “Thank you, Nicoli.”
There’s a long silence, and memories of Leandra and our trip to Rome play like a movie inside my head. Our days under the Italian sky now feel like a single moment in time that was just ours. Minutes, hours, days we didn’t share with the Dark Sovereign or the Del Rossa family. It was just me and her and this insane connection that never stopped pulsing like it was a living entity of its own. And now look where we are. Leandra is pregnant with my twins because I fucked with her birth control to keep her from leaving me once our agreement ended. And now I have her locked in her room, taking every precaution to ensure she stays right here. Even the kitchen staff is escorted by security when delivering her meals to her room. I tried doing it once and ended up with a ruined suit because she thought the spinach cannelloni would pair well with Armani.
“You really love her…don’t you?” Nicoli studies me, and my guess is his question is only partially rhetorical.
I slam back the whiskey, placing the glass down before shifting in my seat, looking him in the eye as the truth teeters on the tip of my tongue. Fuck this. If I can’t allow myself just a sliver of vulnerability toward my own twin brother, then I’m fucked whether I speak the truth or not.
I stand, buttoning my suit jacket. “I don’t just love her. That woman owns me, brother. And it’s fucking with my head because, for the first time in my goddamn life, I know what it feels like to fear losing someone.” I pull a hand through my hair. “Considering that we just buried our father not too long ago, that says a lot.”
Nicoli’s expression remains solid, and I half expect him to take a piss at me. But instead, I see understanding in his eyes and feel a kinship stretching between us. He knows exactly what I’m talking about…because it’s his own fear as well.
He licks his lips as he gets on his feet. “As I said, I support you, and I’ll always have your back. Just,” he clears his throat, “take it easy with Mirabella. She might have grown up with us in this house, but she’s nothing like us.”
I nod, and Nicoli shrugs off the weight of our conversation by slapping his hands together, his face curling in lines of mischief. “You ready to put Uncle Roberto out on his ass?”
“God, yes.”
“I suspect you gifting Mother a luxury cruise getaway for the next few weeks is not coincidental.”
I smirk. “Of course not.”
“You do know she’s coming back? You’re just delaying the inevitable, telling her that her brother is no longer part of this family.”
“I’m aware. But I suspect Mother won’t be returning after her cruise.” I open the door. “She’s going to the vineyard in Tuscany, and I don’t think she’s coming back.”
“What gives you that idea?” Nicoli walks out, and I close the door behind us and start down the hall.
“I don’t know. Call it a gut feeling. There was something about how she said goodbye, walking through the entire house and talking to herself in Italian. It felt…final.”