Page 66 of Niccolaio Andretti (The Five Syndicates)
Yet, Niccolaio isn’t just in Romano territory. He’s embedded in it. From what I’ve seen and gathered, he’s friends with Asher, and he mentioned that Vincent Romano helped acquire this safe house for us.
There’s a story behind this, and even though I’m dying to know, I don’t ask, because I don’t allow myself to stroke the flame of my curiosity regarding Niccolaio. I suspect that getting to know Niccolaio won’t help keep my lust at bay.
And his name. I knew that Nick doesn’t suit him. It’s too plain and ordinary, but Niccolaio Cristiano Andretti… It’s exotic and sexy and everything that I’ve come to realize Nick Niccolaio is.
He continues, “I lived in Andretti territory until I was twenty and had to leave. While I lived in Florida, I was friends with this guy named Ignazio. Naz. He’s the one I shot yesterday. Anyway, his dad was a friend of my dad, so we pretty much grew up together. A few years before I left Florida, Naz accidentally shot a civilian and got sent to Maryland, a border territory state.
“When I left Florida, I lived in Maryland for a little, and while I was there, I was working at a club. I was outside taking a break when I saw Naz. He and a friend of his had their guns out, and they were going to shoot Asher.”
When I gasp, he ignores it and continues, “He was going to kill Asher, but if he did that, the people with Asher would have killed him… So, I stepped in. I killed Naz’s friend, because I didn’t want him to risk getting a shot at Asher while I took care of Naz. Naz never forgave me for that.”
He lowers his voice, and I think he says, “And other things,” but at that low volume, I can’t hear him over the sound of the showerhead.
“You saved Asher Black,” I say, wonder in my voice.
My words hang silently and boldly in the air, and we let them simmer in the stillness as I try to absorb the profundity of my statement. He saved Asher Black, one of the most powerful men in the world, let alone this city.
That’s huge.
After a few more minutes of silence, I take a deep breath before asking the real question I’ve been wanting to ask, “Why are people trying to kill you?”
“There’s a hit out on me.”
“A hit?!” The disbelief in my voice is clear.
“Five million dollars.”
And for a disgusting second, my mind wonders what I can do with five million dollars.
I can find a home.
I can hire a lawyer.
I can file for custody of Mina.
Five million dollars would solve all of my problems, except I can’t kill this man.
I may not be the best person in the world, but I’m certainly not a killer. Not only can I not hurt this man, but I also don’t want to.
I’ve finally found a line I’d draw in what I thought was an infinite list of things I’d do for Mina… and I hate Niccolaio for being it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When angry, count four.
When very angry, swear.
Mark Twain
Even though I feel bad about Niccolaio sleeping on the couch, I don’t do anything about it. I hate to highlight any of his good attributes, but I have to admit that he’s gentlemanly enough to insist that I sleep anywhere other than the bed.
And I’m not about to invite him to join me.
But it’s only been seven days of hiding out, and my resolve is already wavering. I’m not sure how I feel about this. After all, Jax sleeps slouched against the wall, and I don’t feel an ounce of guilt about that.
At the same time, Jax shot a bullet at me. Well, it was at Niccolaio, but with his terrible aim, I ended up in its projectile. So, I have a good reason not to feel guilty about Jax’s treatment. On the other hand, if Niccolaio hadn’t followed me out of John’s brownstone, I wouldn’t be in this mess.
But… I also wouldn’t have a place to stay while I study for my LSATs.
