Grant, Arthur, and Michael follow behind us.
Since the big fight with Nikolas in full view of my guards, James has been nice to me. At least there’s that.
“I have to go for a dress fitting,” I mention to him.
“I’m aware.” We continue to walk toward my apartment, then he says, “Christos is a good man.”
“So I’ve been told,” I mutter.
“Did you hope to marry a man you love?” he asks, his tone not mocking me like Grant’s would.
“I just…” I sigh and lift my eyes to James, taking in his ruffled brown hair and boyish good looks. “I wanted it to be my choice.”
He nods and lets out an understanding sigh.
Curiosity gets the better of me. “Why are you in the mafia?”
“I was born into it.” His answer is short and to the point.
“You didn’t have other dreams for yourself?” I ask as we approach my apartment building.
“Dreams don’t keep you alive in our world.” Like the past couple of days, the other guards wait by the SUV while James walks me up to search my apartment.
When he’s happy there are no threats, he gives me a smile. “See you downstairs at four.”
He shuts the front door behind him. I unpack my bag on the table, and when I see more messages from Athina regarding wedding décor, I feel like screaming.
Walking into my bedroom, I fall across the bed and bury my face in the covers, and like the days before, I have a good scream before crying, ridding myself of some of the frustration, anger, and hurt.
Hurt because, even though I hate Nikolas, he still managed to rip my heart out of my chest.
Before he showed me the real monster lurking beneath his skin, I thought there was a possibility he could actually have a beating heart in his chest. He was possessive and protective of me. He made it feel like he was worshipping my body while giving me pleasure I never knew existed.
He made me hope things could change, only to throw me to the dogs.
Not that Christos is a dog.
Ugh.
Pushing up from the bed, I feel drained of my will to live as I get ready for the fitting.
Chapter 21
Nikolas
“We’ve lost eight men!” I shout, the anger that’s been taking over my life, spiraling into a dark, turbulent storm, threatening to destroy everything in my path.
“You think I’m not aware?” Andreas shouts back. “Theo was a good friend. We all feel the loss.”
Our anger and grief swirl thick in the air.
Andreas shakes his head, his concerned eyes drifting over my face. “What do we do next?”
“We have to find out where Manno’s hiding.” So I can fucking rip his spine out through his throat.
“How? None of the Sicilians are talking.”
There’s only one way left, and as much as I hate it, I pick up my phone and dial Viktor’s number.
A chuckle sounds over the line. “Nikolas. I’m not surprised.”
I take a deep breath, and with my sights set on the end goal, I admit, “I need your help.”
Victor chuckles again, but the sound is far from friendly. “I’ll text you Manno’s address.”
There’s another burst of rage in my chest. “You have it already?”
“Of course. Information is money, after all.”
The man’s just like his fucking father and uncle.
“How much?” I ask, knowing the price is going to be steep.
“For a friend,” Viktor lets out a deep breath, “it’s for free.”
Nothing’s for free in our world, which means he’ll call on me for help one day, and I’ll have to give it, no questions asked.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“I hear you managed to find a husband for your stepsister. Just got the wedding invitation. Short notice, though.”
“I’ll understand if you can’t make it but would appreciate it if you can find the time to attend,” I reply automatically, the rage swirling in my chest growing darker and thicker with each word.
Whenever Tess is brought up, I want to fucking lose my shit. The sooner she’s married…
My thoughts refuse to go any further.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Viktor replies.
The call ends, and Andreas lifts his eyebrows at me. “What did he say?”
“He has Manno’s address.” My phone beeps, and opening the message from Viktor, I turn the screen for Andreas to see.
A satisfied smile spreads over my friend’s face, then he takes in my scowl. “This is a good thing. Why aren’t you happy?”
Because…
“I’ll be happy when Manno’s a burning corpse,” I growl.
Andreas tilts his head, his eyes searching my face. “You know you can still call it off.”
“There’s no calling off the war,” I bark.
“The wedding, Nikolas,” he corrects me.
Narrowing my eyes at him, my voice drops dangerously low as I ask, “Why the fuck would I do that?”
Andreas stands up, shaking his head at me. “You’re stubborn. We all know that. But fuck, Nikolas, you’ve never been one to lie to yourself.”