“I want you to tell Nico that his family’s time in Venice is done,” Emiliano said, his voice low and harsh. “I want you to tell him that he’s got until the end of the week to pack up his father and all they can carry, then get the fuck out of Italy. Do you understand?”
“No, not really, to be honest.”
“The Santonelli era in Venice is over,” he said. “It is the dawn of the Vittore era.”
“Pretty sure you can tell him that yourself.”
“Oh, I can, of course. But if I deliver this message, my words will be accompanied by a bullet,” he replied. “So, unless you want your lover face down in the street in a pool of his own blood, you will convey my message.”
River flinched as he got to his feet and straightened his jacket, never taking his eyes off her. Her throat felt like it was closing up and it felt like somebody was inside her chest beating on her with a sledgehammer when Emiliano walked over to her. He stopped just scant inches from her, his gaze direct and piercing. River wanted to turn and run but her feet felt like they’d been encased in concrete, rooting her to that spot.
Emiliano leaned closer to her. His breath washed over her, warm and reeking like cigarettes. But River felt like a rabbit caught in a pair of headlights, frozen, completely unable to move.
“Do you understand, River?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“And you’ll pass on my message.”
“Yes.”
He paused a moment, letting his eyes bore into hers, and then smiled and patted her on the head patronizingly. She flinched at his touch but otherwise remained unable to move.
“Good girl,” he said.
Emiliano and his men walked out of her apartment. She listened to their footsteps receding and then dwindle as they walked down the flight of stairs. The paralysis finally broken, she turned and slammed the door shut, locking it up, and leaned her forehead against it as tears spilled down her cheeks. Her legs trembled then gave out and she slumped down to the floor and buried her face in her hands, sobbing wildly. She’d never been so scared in all her life.
As scared as she was for herself though, she was even more afraid for Nico. Even though she’d left his place thinking that was the end of things, River knew she had to talk to him.
13
“Why did you leave me this morning?” he asked.
Nico walked to the dining room table and poured them both a mimosa. He garnished the champagne flute with a strawberry then carried the glasses over and handed her one. She accepted the glass, looking at him with a strange, almost dumbfounded expression on her face as he sat down beside her. She shook her head and stared at him.
When he woke up this morning and found her gone, he’d been a little upset. After the night they’d shared, Nico had hoped to spend some more time with her. Plus, he didn't want to let her out of his sight. Not with Emiliano seeming to be making moves. He wasn't sure what that prick had up his sleeve just yet, but he had his men working on finding out.
River had called him though, completely upset, and told him what had just happened. He’d of course rushed right over. But Nico knew he had to play it cool and act as if there wasn’t anything for her to be worried about. If he showed up freaking out about it, he knew she’d feed off that and freak out herself. And that was the last thing he wanted.
So, he was going out of his way to seem relaxed and like it wasn’t any big deal. In reality, he had his men spread through the city searching for Emiliano. They were under orders to cuff him, bag him, and drag him to the warehouse where Nico was going to deal with him once and for all. He’d kept his hands clean to that point, but he feared that time was coming to an end. He didn’t want to, but Nico knew he had to deal with the younger Vittore decisively and with finality or he ran the risk of further emboldening him.
“River? Why did you leave?” he asked.
“I tell you that he’s threatening your life and your first question is why I left?” she asked.
“That’s the most pressing question in my mind, yes.”
“Nico, he said he’s going to kill you.”
He shrugged. “I honestly can’t tell you the number of times he’s said that to me. It’s boring,” he replied. “What’s interesting to me is why you left me this morning after we had what I thought was a pretty remarkable night. Did you not enjoy yourself? You sounded like you did.”
“Nico—”
“River,” he cut her off and laughed.
“This is serious.”
He took a drink of his mimosa and sighed. “River, if I got upset every time somebody threatened to kill me, I’d never get anything done because I’d be upset all the time. I’ve had to learn to separate the things worth being upset about from the things that aren’t.”