Page 14 of The Italian

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River scrubbed her face with her hands and shook her head. Wanting anything more was stupid. It was ridiculous. She would be going back home soon enough, which meant that anything more with Nico was impossible anyway. Anything more, any sort of a relationship with him was a non-starter simply because he lived here in Venice, and she lived in Southern California. And that was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to the challenges they’d face.

Then there was the whole, she didn’t know the first thing about him thing. Other than knowing he had a good sense of humor, a smile that made her wet almost instantly, and was incredible in bed, she didn’t know anything about him really. They’d shared a little bit about themselves that day they’d spent together but she wouldn’t say they’d opened up and spilled all their deep, dark secrets. Hell, she didn’t even really know what he did for a living. He’d been kind of vague and mysterious about that.

As she thought back on that afternoon, she realized that he’d deftly gotten her to tell him a lot more about herself than he’d shared. River hadn’t even realized it at the time. It was only now that she was looking back on it that she realized what he’d managed to do. It was smooth, slick, and the fact that he’d outfoxed her made River think he was very smart. His natural charm and charisma had managed to get her to lower her defenses in ways she’d never thought possible. And he’d done it with such a delicate touch, she hadn’t even realized it.

River couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. Like, a lot. But she knew that letting herself get emotionally entangled with him was just a recipe for disaster. If she let herself feel too much for him—hell, if she let herself feel anything for him—she was only going to be setting herself up for heartbreak. She had a lot to do when she got home and couldn’t afford to be spending time wallowing in self-pity. River knew she had to get any of those fanciful and ultimately self-destructive ideas out of her head.

Last night had been amazing. It had been more than she’d ever dared hope for her first time. She’d made memories that would fuel her imagination for a lifetime. But that’s all it was and all it could be—a fond memory. She’d enjoyed every single second she’d shared with Nico. But it was over now, and the memory of that night would have to live in the back of her mind. She couldn’t afford to be emotionally entangled with him. With anybody.

River nodded to herself and gave herself a mental pat on the back for having properly adjusted her attitude and setting herself straight. She’d only had to remind herself of the reality of the situation she was living in. She would be leaving for home soon and Georgetown soon after that. She had a life to lead. It might not have been the one she truly wanted or the one that would leave her feeling genuinely satisfied and fulfilled, but it wouldn’t be a bad life. And in time, it would afford her the opportunity to do the things she wanted to do. Like maybe come back to Venice.

As she busied herself getting ready for the day though, River tried to shut down those voices and feelings inside of her. She couldn’t afford them. She couldn’t afford to let herself become emotionally entangled with Nico. It just wasn’t feasible. A small voice whispered in the back of her mind though. It told her it might already be too late for that.

8

“Where have you been?” Nico’s father demanded.

“Does it matter? I’m here now.”

“I texted you more than an hour ago.”

“I needed to shower and get dressed,” Nico snapped. “I’m here before our esteemed guests. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is you, son,” he grunted. “You’re so busy out chasing a piece of ass that you’re not handling your business.”

“I’m here. I’m dressed,” Nico replied gruffly. “I even wore a nice suit. What the fuck else do you want from me?”

Nico held his suit jacket open and turned in a circle for his dad to see then sat down at the table next to him. His father’s text telling him they were meeting with the Vittores had woken him up at about six that morning and he’d been more than annoyed. All he wanted to do was lay there in River’s bed with her for a while longer. After that, he wanted to spend the morning having sex with her then shower and maybe go get something to eat. He’d wanted to spend the entire day with her. Meeting with Emiliano and his father, Rocco, was the last thing he wanted to do.

But when his father texted him, he knew he had to handle business, so he slipped out, went home, and got himself cleaned up. Knowing they were meeting the Vittores, he even put on a dark, three-piece suit. Nico looked down at the light blue shirt beneath his dark blue vest then straightened his metallic blue tie. He’d even found a pocket square that matched his shirt. He thought he conveyed a certain gravitas and believed he was showing his father he took his position seriously. Clearly, he was wrong.

“I want you to show me that you are ready to lead,” his father growled. “Your time is coming sooner than you think.”

Nico waved him off. “You’re too stubborn to die, old man. You’re going to be around for a long time yet. My time isn’t coming for years.”

His father’s gaze was direct. “No, Nico. I’m not. And if you don’t step up and prove your strength and show pieces of shit like Rocco Vittore that you are in control, you are inviting disaster. You are inviting them to challenge you,” he said. “And make no mistake, if you show weakness or a lack of commitment, they will come for you.”

Nico flashed his father a mischievous grin. “I don’t think Emiliano is going to have any questions about my strength and toughness.”

“What are you talking about?”

Nico filled his father in on what happened last night. As he spoke though, his father’s expression darkened, and a scowl crossed his lips.

“You fool,” he said. “Are you trying to get them to kill you?”

Now it was Nico's turn to scowl at his father. "He was putting his hands on a woman who did not want his attention. I defended her. I broke no rules,” he sneered. “The Code of the Families forbids harming women. It forbids what Emiliano was doing.”

His father opened his mouth to reply but closed it again without saying anything. He knew Nico was right. He still wasn't pleased but recognized that what Nico was saying was correct. The Code of the Families was an old, maybe even ancient set of rules that had been laid down to govern how the heads of the families were to conduct themselves. The Code outlined what was and wasn’t acceptable as well as provided for the punishment of those who violated them.

Some argued that the Code was outdated and out of touch. That it didn’t reflect the way things had to be in modern times. But those people were usually from smaller, also-ran families who sought to expand their own reach and power. They were also usually the families who operated well outside the lines and did things forbidden by the Code. If those families ever gained a foothold and took power, the whole of Italy would be thrown into chaos. It would be a free for all. There would be open war and blood in the streets. The Code ensured that things remained civilized.

Most believed the Code began during the Renaissance. It was generally believed that it was the Medicis themselves who instituted the Code. That they were integral in dividing Italy into thirteen distinct districts with one Family in charge of each district. Although each district had a “Boss,” there was a “Boss of all Bosses,” who ruled over them all.

Much the way a Pope was elected, the Boss of all Bosses was chosen at a conclave, elected by a majority vote of the thirteen families. When a Boss of all Bosses died, a conclave was held, and a new head of the Families was elected. And for more than a century, Nico’s family had ruled. Under the Santonelli family, the Families had all flourished. They had lived in relative peace and prospered in ways they never had before. The Santonellis made them wealthy beyond their wildest dreams, so it was no wonder they had been the Boss of all Bosses for more than a hundred years.

It was a string of power Nico’s father obviously thought was going to end with him and he resented that. Nico was very different from his father in a million ways. He wasn’t as quick to violence—usually—and he preferred to think things through rather than simply react. His father took Nico’s thoughtfulness for weakness. Nico wasn’t afraid of violence. What he did to Emiliano last night should have proved that.

But he preferred to think about a situation rationally and logically first and if violence was warranted, then you pull the trigger—both figuratively and literally. He took after his mother in that way. She always encouraged him to use his mind. She’d always said it was his most dangerous weapon. And over the course of his life, Nico had found that to be right. He’d managed to settle more than a few situations with his words and his brain rather than with his fists or bullets. And his father called him a “soft touch” because of it.


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