“You better get ready, son,” Aldo said. “Your time is here.”
9
River stepped out of a glass-blowing shop after watching them craft the light, delicate pieces of art they had on display. She’d purchased a small blue and red hummingbird for Evie because her best friend loved them. She walked alongside one of the canals, smiling as she watched a gondola glide by with a pair of wide-eyed, giddy-looking tourists smiling and talking excitedly as they pointed to everything around them.
She crossed the canal on a footbridge and thought about going back to a small art gallery that featured local artists. Nico had told her about it, and she'd been absolutely charmed by it. There were some amazing pieces of art created by some talented people on display. River walked down the narrow lane, smiling to herself. She felt good. Happy. But when a stray thought of Nico passed through her mind, that smile faded.
River gave herself a small shake. She wasn’t going to let thoughts of him ruin her day. She’d made her peace with what happened. At least, she was trying to. The problem for her was that if she were being honest with herself, she had to admit that she liked him. More than she ever intended to. And the fact that he’d slept with her then snuck out hurt her feelings. A hell of a lot more than she’d ever admit to him. Or to anybody.
“So, are you fucking him?”
River’s eyes widened at the sound of the voice behind her. She turned around and felt every muscle in her body tense when she found herself face-to-face with the man from the café—Emiliano, Nico had said his name was. He was staring at her with that hard, dark look in his eyes. River’s mouth grew dry and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Two men, both large and burly stood behind him with their arms folded over their broad chests, dark, intimidating looks on both their faces. Emiliano hadn’t said or done anything overtly menacing but her legs trembled, and adrenaline flowed through her veins as her fight-or-flight response kicked in.
River looked around but there was nobody around to see what was happening. Nobody around who could pull her out of trouble if it came to that. She was on her own. And she knew the last thing she should do was show him that she was scared of him since that would only embolden him like any schoolyard bully. River licked her lips and stiffened her spine. She raised her chin slightly and glared at him.
“I asked if you were fucking him or not. Nico, I mean,” Emiliano repeated.
“I heard you the first time. But your question was so vile and inappropriate, I am not going to dignify it with a response. You don’t know me. And you certainly have no call to speak to me that way,” she snapped.
“Well, aren’t you an uptight little bitch?” he replied with a chuckle.
River gritted her teeth and started to walk away from Emiliano and his goons. She wasn’t going to stand there and listen to him speak to her that way. A sharp yelp burst from her throat though, when he grabbed her by the arm and flung her back against the railing she’d been standing against. The hard metal jolted her, and River’s teeth clacked together as pain shot from the small of her back through her entire body. She clenched her jaw and fought to keep the tears that were welling in her eyes from falling.
“I didn’t say we were done,” he growled.
“Leave me alone. I have nothing to say to you,” River spat.
“Do you think he’s a good man? Nico.”
“He is a good man.”
Emiliano chuckled. “He’s got you fooled.”
“Oh, and I suppose this is where you tell me that you’re a good man?”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t pretend to be something I’m not,” he said. “I know I’m not a good man. But neither is your Nico.”
“He’s not my Nico. We’re not even—”
“Do you know what he does for a living?”
“I don’t care.”
“He’s a criminal, you know,” Emiliano said. “And a killer.”
His words sent a cold chill through River, and she swallowed hard, doing her best to get her heart under control. But it was galloping away like a runaway horse already. She knew there was a dark edge to Nico, but she never imagined that he was a killer. River didn’t have a lot of trouble believing he may operate in the gray areas of the law. Maybe he even crossed the line. But she couldn’t believe he was what Emiliano said he was.
“What he does isn’t my concern. We’re not together,” she growled.
“Maybe. Maybe no. Either way, I thought you should know what he was.”
“Great. Consider me informed.”
River stepped forward and went to move around him, but Emiliano pushed her back against the railing again. She bit back the cry that sat upon her lips, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.
“We’re not done here yet. We need to talk,” he said.
“We have nothing to talk about.”