Chapter 105

I go very still, my mouth forming into a concentrated little “o” at Christian’s question. My eyes flick immediately to Nico, my coffee pressed tight between my palms.

Because…if Nico’s here, it means that he is on Christian’s side.

Right?

I’m shocked when Nico’s answer isn’t an immediate yes.

“That depends,” Nico murmurs, studying Christian right back. “On what your fucking plan is, Chris. Because if your plan is to just hide in a beach house with your pet stripper and spend the next six months fucking –“

“Cut the shit,” Christian snaps, his eyes almost glowing with rage at Nico’s audacity and disrespect.

Nico smirks a little bit, I think pleased to have riled him. “If that’s your plan, Chris, then no. I’m not on your side. But if you’re actually doing something here…” he lets his voice fade off, letting Christian fill in the blanks.

Christian is silent for a long moment, and then his eyes move to me. I sit up even straighter at the force of his gaze, almost spilling my coffee all over myself. “Do you want me to…go?” I ask, anxious, wondering if they want to have like…a mafia boys private chat or something. I mean, it would make sense – I’m not precisely adding anything here.

“Yes, I always want you to go,” Nico snaps out, but Christian interrupts.

“No,” he says, holding my gaze and giving a sad little sigh. Nico’s mouth pops open in surprise and Christian shifts his eyes to his cousin. “She’s in it now, Nic. She should know.”

“What, so she can get captured and interrogated again, and spill all of your plans!?”

“Hey!” I protest, lifting my chin with pride. “I did great under interrogation – I didn’t tell them anything important.”

“You still have all your toes, Iris?” Nico asks, leaning forward to glare at me. I hesitate now because…well, yes, I do. “Yeah,” he says, shaking his head at me like I have no idea what I’m talking about. “Then you haven’t been interrogated – not yet. Not for real.”

“Oh yeah, Nico?” I ask, leaning forward to return his glare. “And how many toes do you have?”

“Forty-eight,” he whispers, and I sit back, confused and a little freaked out. “Ten of my own, and thirty-eight I’ve taken from other people.”

My eyes go wide as I stare at him, realizing his implication here. That Nico is the interrogator – not the other way around, but that still means he knows what he’s talking about.

“Why do you keep them?” I whisper, a little freaked out.

But I don’t get an answer, because Christian interrupts.

“She’s in it,” he says, his voice a little sad. I turn my head to see him watching me. “That is, if she wants to be.”

“I want to be,” I say, instant. Because I know it’s dangerous – and I know it’s worse, to know things, to become a target. But still, if it’s the difference between being a pawn and an active participant in my life and my choices? If I can help Christian? “I want to know.”

Christian turns back to Nico like that’s the end of it, and Nico groans, leaning back against the couch and pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “That’s not the way it’s done, Chris,” he sighs. “For a reason. Women – they’re kept out of this.”

“Well,” Christian murmurs, lifting his coffee and taking a casual sip. “Maybe it’s time that that changed. Maybe if Iris had more information and freedom this whole time, things would have been different.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Nico replies, his voice as dry as a desert. He drops his hand back into his lap, defeated and accepting it. “But, fine, your little Bambi stays.”

“Bambi stays,” Christian agrees, nodding.

I work hard to fight my smile, very pleased to be included. But neither of them notice anyway, keeping their eyes focused on each other.

“And…the plan?” Nico asks, deliberately slow, lifting his coffee to his own lips like it’s the most casual thing on earth.

Christian inhales a deep breath. “Full coup,” he says, his eyes locked on Nico’s.

My mouth drops open.

Nico quirks an eyebrow. “Taking him out?”

“Out.” Christian nods, and my jaw drops further. Because what do they…are they seriously…

“Out of…commission?” Nico presses, wanting the full details. “Retired? Out to pasture?”

“No, Nico,” Christian replies, his voice low. “When I say I want to take him out, I mean I want him dead. It’s the only way this works.”

Nico nods slowly, accepting it, a little smile forming on his lips as I stare at both of them, completely forgetting to breathe. Because…I mean, Christian can’t mean what I think it means…

“Well, well,” Nico murmurs, taking another casual sip of his coffee. “I have to admit that I’m pleasantly surprised. I thought I’d be walking into a very domestic encounter. Not the nascent plans of regicide.”

“You know it’s been brewing for a long time,” Christian says, his voice hard. “This shouldn’t be a surprise. The circumstances have just forced me into action a little earlier than I’d planned.”

“I know,” Nico confirms, light. “It’s not a surprise. It’s…just not every day that you hear your cousin say he wants to kill a king.”

“It needs to be done,” Christian murmurs as my heart begins to pound. “The world will be a better place without him.”

“And with you in his place?” Nico asks, his brow raising.

“Yes,” Christian confirms, giving a sharp nod. “With me in his place.”

I just stare, and stare, and stare.

Because…because did Christian just confess that he wants to kill his father? To take over, officially, the Romano mafia organization? To actually become the Mafia King of our fair city?

Is this…is this seriously the guy who I was joking with this morning about walking like a duck in too-big sandals?

But as I stare between them, I realize that…that of course it’s not. That there have always been two men – my Christian, and then Cristian Romano. That of course it’s split, and that it always will be.

And while I absolutely want my Christian in my life – forever, every moment of it…

Do I really want to live in Cristian Romano’s world? Especially once he kills his dad and takes over their family?

What…what would that even look like? And could my gentle Christian even survive that encounter? Or would I lose him too?

“So,” Christian says, so focused on Nico that he doesn’t notice my dilemma. “Are you in, or are you out?”

Nico chews the inside of his cheek for a moment, considering, and it’s so quiet in the house that I swear I can hear the waves crashing on the beach outside.

“I’m in,” Nico says, his voice cagey. “If I get the number two spot in the organization.”

Christian’s brows go up. “A spot usually reserved for a brother.”

Nico shrugs. “Usually. But you’re closer to me than your brothers. Besides, they’re all going to take your dad’s side.”

“Maybe not,” Christian murmurs, thoughtful now, truly starting to spin out their plans. “But that’s your bid? Number two, and you’re on my side?”

“You know I’d never betray you, Chris,” Nico says quietly, dead serious. And as I watch, I’m surprised to find that I’m quite moved by the intensity with which he says that. “You promise me number two, and I’ll swear fealty to you right now.”

“Do it,” Christian commands, nodding once, and to my shock Nico immediately moves off the couch, dropping to one knee before him. My eyes go wide as Christian sits up straight, squaring his shoulders, offering a hand which Nico takes in his own, bowing his head reverently over it.

I stare, completely blown away, as Nico begins to murmur his fealty to Christian in what sounds like practiced phrases – precise promises probably made by generation after generation of Romano men. “From here until the day I die,” Nico says, quiet and reverent, “you are my Don, my leader and the head of the family. I give you my word, my bond, my body, and my life. Your will is mine. If I ever betray you, may God strike me down where I stand.”

“I accept, Nico,” Christian says, equally serious, and as Nico lifts his head to meet Christian’s eyes, Christian lightly slaps his cheek – not to hurt him, but fondly, a gesture that is…somehow a part of this ritual that I don’t understand.

I can’t keep my eyes off of Christian, though – because I see it now, see it more clearly than I ever have before. See him for the powerful mafia magnate that he is. Not merely my friend, the boy I grew up across the driveway from. But instead…a man who holds sway over other men, who orders mountains to move and expects it to be done.

God, Christian. Do I know him at all?

But when he shifts his eyes back to me, and gives me a little smile, I see him there too. My Christian.

“Are you ready for this, Iris?” he murmurs, and Nico turns to me too, likewise wanting an answer.

Slowly, I shake my head, not knowing what to say. “I have no idea.”

“Well, you’d better get ready for it,” Nico says, frowning at me a little. But Christian just smiles, and nods, like he believes that I can do it.

And in his faith, I find my own, and settle myself to this will.

Because I’m part of it now – and I have to admit…

…a very small part of me really, really likes it.