Page 19 of Niccolaio Andretti (The Five Syndicates)
; Rightfully so, too.
Sometimes I forget that I’m no longer Niccolaio Andretti.
I’m hardly even Niccolaio.
I’m just Nick.
And being Nick means that I shouldn’t mouth off to a caporegime for the Romano family.
Even if I really, really want to.
I sigh. “Will do.”
“I’m here to help.”
That’s another frustrating thing about Vincent. He treats me like I’m not expendable. He asks me how I’m doing. He tries to get to know me better. He tries to help. He tells me to be careful out there as if I’m not one of the greatest threats in this city.
I think he’s genuine about it, too.
My father tried to kill him, and Vincent Romano still helps me. He keeps me employed. He keeps the cash flowing. He checks up on me. It’s a complicated situation, one full of lots of give and take on my part, Asher’s and Vincent’s.
But that doesn’t mean Vincent needs to do this for me.
That doesn’t mean what Vincent does for me isn’t generous.
He can easily find another fixer. Probably not one as skilled as I am, unless Asher is looking to return to the mafia business. But still. I’m not the only fish in this town. Yet, here Vincent is. In front of me.
And it’s not to give me another name, another death.
He’s here to help me, and I don’t think I’ll ever know what to do with that.
I fidget uncomfortably, my regular poise waning. “Why do I need help?” I ask, the words sounding uncannily similar to what I said to Lucy a while back.
“Your brother increased the hit on you. Five million dollars.”
And with those words, the violent storm in me thunders until I’m unsure if this anger inside of me is a fleeting occurrence or permanently me—an inevitable explosion.
Chapter Eight
Darkness cannot drive
out darkness; only light
can do that. Hate cannot
drive out hate; only love
can do that.
Martin Luther King Jr.
twenty years old
The cock of my gun is unmistakable.
If I could, I’d end this—whatever this is—without bloodshed. I really would. But I’m not naïve. I recognize inevitability, and this is it. Someone is going to die to day. There are too many weapons, too much history, and too much anger lurking around in this house to get around the inevitability of death.
