Page 78 of Vicious Intentions
“Let him go, Nico. I doubt our brother has anything more to say. Isn’t that right?”
Niccolò waits a second to make sure Raffaele doesn’t retaliate before releasing his grip on him and stepping aside. And just as I predicted, Raffaele storms out of my office, much in the same way he thundered in.
“I think he believed you,” Niccolò says, eyeing the door.
I don’t tell Niccolò that it’s a good sign our brother took my threat to heart, because I meant every single word. Raffaele knows that I didn’t shell out an empty threat. I made him a promise instead.
If he gets in the way of my plans, brother or not, he will be dealt with.
How far it goes will be his choice.
“He didn’t mean it, you know?” Niccolò mutters with an apologetic shrug. “He’s just pissed. He’ll get over it. Just give him time.”
Instead of replying to Niccolò, I walk back to my desk and spin my chair around to look at the city I’m trying to protect. My younger brother’s tantrums are a distraction I cannot afford to waste time on.
“What are you thinking?”
Again, I don’t reply.
“You’ve been off lately,” Niccolò says quietly, suspicion lacing his tone. “Is there something I’m missing here? Something I should be worried about?”
My lips part for a fraction of a second before they thin again and shake my head.
“I just need a minute to myself, Nico. Let’s not forget we still have the Ferraro, Lombardi, and Marino problem to tackle. I need some time to think about our next move.”
That’s enough to ease whatever concern was weighing on my brother.
“If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs.”
I don’t offer a reply. Instead, I spend the rest of the afternoon staring into the city I love, wondering if I’ll end up losing everyone important to me, just to keep it underCosa Nostrarule.
It’s obvious I lost Rocco’s support today. And I never had Raffaele’s, so that was a given. But if either Niccolò or Moretti were to find out that my vicious intentions toward the heart of the Romano clan have softened, I’d likely lose their support as well. A boss is supposed to have a clear mind and a cool head at all times, and cannot make rash decisions based on…feelings.
Yet, instead of curbing whatever emotion is trying to grow inside me, I spin around in my chair, open my desk drawer, and grab my phone. I need to talk to the one person who seems to have a direct connection to everything that is suddenly bubbling inside of me.
Me:I’m struggling to find beauty in anything today.
I start to follow up on the message by telling Anna that lately, her friendship is the only good thing in my life. However, I delete the entire sentence before doing something foolish like sending it. Which turns out to be a good thing, because Anna is quick to read my text, meaning she must already be home from her part-time job.
What I don’t like is how my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach when my message is left on read. I hate it even more that I just stare at the damn screen for what feels like forever, as if staring at it would somehow summon a reply.Cazzo!
I toss the phone onto my desk and rake my fingers through my hair, tugging at the strands. The sting is a welcome distraction from whatever shit is happening in my chest.
Suddenly, the familiar sound of a notification freezes me in place. Ever so carefully, I retrieve the phone from the top of my desk and find a video waiting for me, with a text below it.
Anna:I hope you find some beauty in this.
My heart stirs at her words, only to ache when I open the video and see a faceless Anna at the piano, playing a song that feels as if it were written just for me.
No. Not just for me… but forus.
The melody begins charged with hope and intention, only to fade into something bittersweet, almost like an unreciprocated love song. I don’t want to think too much about which part of the song is meant for me. I’m almost certain I already know the answer.
Chapter 17
Annamaria
Eighteen years old.
