SWNOVELS When He Takes: Chapter 11
Nero doesn’t speak to me on the way home. He’s lost in thought as he drives us back to the penthouse.
Heavy rain pelts against the windshield. It’s just above zero tonight, warm for January in New York according to Alec. He complimented us when he saw us leaving earlier. Said we’re a beautiful couple.
Just like the Ferraros, you’d never know the truth about us based on how we look.
Their offer circles inside my head like an insistent fly. I have no desire to get more involved with Nero’s world than I already am, but there might be something here.
Something that could help both Nero and me.
Now that I finally understand what Nero’s given up for me and the part I had to play in our current situation, some of my anger at him has been replaced with a heavy dose of guilt.
He lost everything when he came to Darkwater Hollow, and now he’s lost everything again. It doesn’t seem like he’s even in contact with his old boss or any of his other friends anymore. Did they abandon him now that he’s working for the Ferraros?
Does he have anyone in this city besides me?
I’ve been feeling so alone since he brought me here, yet I never considered he might be feeling lonely too.
He doesn’t even have Sandro to confide in anymore. In the midst of all this chaos, has he had a chance to grieve him? Or did he push all of his emotions away?
“We’ll program your fingerprints into the security system tonight,” he says, surprising me. “Now that the Ferraros know you’re here, there’s no point in keeping you locked inside.”
My house arrest is over. “Thank you,” I say softly.
He just nods.
I study him for a few seconds as he navigates the busy streets of this city.
He’s still not fully healed from the boxing match with Alessio, but even with the cut on his lip and the fading bruise on his cheekbone, he’s painfully handsome.
I push down the sudden urge to lean over and press a kiss to his cheek.
What I learned today doesn’t change the fact that I can’t ever trust him again, or the fact that it’s over between us.
I still want to leave New York.
But I don’t want to leave Nero like this.
“What is a capo exactly?” I ask.
“The mob’s middle management. A capo has his own crew that he’s responsible for. They work for him and pay him a share of their profits. The capo then pays his own share to the boss.”
I arch a brow. “Sounds like an MLM. Do you sell Tupperware?”
A chuckle rumbles out of Nero. “Not quite. Unless it’s filled with cocaine.”
“So is that the core of the business? Drugs?”
He shoots me a sideways glance. “Why so curious all of a sudden?”
“You can’t expect me to not be curious after the evening we just had. If it weren’t for Cosimo’s attitude and Alessio showing up in all his ink, you could have said the family got rich from building an essential oils empire, and I would have believed you. They don’t look like gangsters.”
“The sooner you learn not to trust appearances, the better off you’ll be in the long run,” Nero says. “The Ferraros deal in weapons, drugs, and racketeering. They also have a large portfolio of legitimate businesses, some of which act as their fronts. Their empire is vast, and they’re well-known in political circles due to their generous donations to promising candidates.”
“Promising?”
“The ones whose priorities have nothing to do with going after organized crime.”
We stop at a red light.
“Would you want to be a capo?”
Nero turns to me, his hazel eyes assessing. “What does it matter?”
“I’m curious. How would that compare to being a consigliere?”
His lips firm into a thin line. “I was a capo for far longer than I was a consigliere. It would be like slipping into an old pair of shoes, I suppose.”
“How did you get involved with all this anyway?”
“The mob? It was never a choice.”
My brow furrows. “What do you mean? You were forced into it?”
A hint of amusement appears on his lips as we start driving again. “I’m no victim, Sunshine. I craved this life. From a young age, all I ever wanted was to get made.”
“Must have been quite the childhood for that to have been your goal in life.” I realize how judgmental I sound only after the words leave my mouth.
Nero just shrugs. “Maybe it was.”
“You’ve never told me about it.”
“You’ve never asked.”
“I’m asking now.” I think I’m finally ready to learn who Nero is, but I wonder if he’s willing to show me.
“My childhood was complicated,” he finally says. “It changed a lot when my mom left my dad. My biological father was a weak man who preferred to let my mom and I starve than do what needed to be done to provide for his family.”
“You were poor?”
“We lived in a cockroach-infested studio in the Bronx until I was about seven. It’s a miracle my mom dealt with it for that long. She was used to a very different lifestyle growing up.”
“Her family didn’t help her?”
“They tried, but every time my mom accepted any money from her parents, my father would go on an angry rampage. He hated her side of the family, and he had none of his own to rely on.”
“Why did he hate them so much?”
“Because they were criminals. He had a rigid moral compass and an unwavering sense of right and wrong.”
Heat spreads over my cheeks.
“My mom came from a long line of gangsters. My grandpa was a high-ranking capo for the Messero family. Ma went against her father’s wishes by marrying a civilian, and it caused a rift between them. She gave up a lot to be with my father. She loved him. In return, he allowed her to live in abject poverty, refusing help and refusing to take any of the job offers my grandfather extended to him. He was a proud and stubborn man, and he watched his family suffer instead of getting involved with ‘those people,’ as he liked to call my mother’s family.”
I exhale a heavy breath. “You make it sound like the only way he could have given you a better life was to work for the mob. I’m sure he had other choices.”
“Yeah, well if he did, he didn’t pursue them. In the end, my mom left him for my stepdad, and she never looked back. Renzo gave her the life she deserved. He never had any scruples about doing whatever it took to provide for his family.”
Something uncomfortable flickers in the pit of my stomach. “Just because your stepdad treated your mom well doesn’t make him a good person.”
“He didn’t care about being perceived as a good person. That’s the point. He cared about the people around him, the people he loved, far more than the opinions of others.” A muscle jumps in his jaw. “My father was the one obsessed with his image. He wouldn’t accept the help his family desperately needed because he was too worried about what the people in his church would say about him if they found out.”
The pieces are starting to come together. “Your stepdad was your hero. You think he saved you and your mom.”
“I don’t think it. I know it. He always treated me like I was his own. He taught me how to be a man.”
“He taught you how to be a mobster.”
“A very good one.” He flexes his hands on the wheel. “I know you look down on this life, Blake, but it saved me and my mom. And my stepdad taught me that the labels society assigns things—the good and the bad, the moral and the immoral—are made up. There are no absolutes in life. Only once you accept that can you find true freedom.”
I glance down at my hands, refusing to accept that’s true. There are some things in this life that are undeniably bad. And being a criminal, the kind that kills people, is immoral. It’s wrong.
But there’s no point in arguing with Nero about it. It’s clear we won’t agree. “Was Gino right about you wanting to get even with Rafaele?” I ask after a few silent minutes pass.
A grim expression unfurls over his face. “No. I would never betray the Messeros.”
“Even after what happened? It sounds like he kind of screwed you over.”
“It felt like that in the beginning, but I got over it eventually. I forgave Rafe. Sometimes, we’re put in impossible situations where there isn’t a good way to protect everyone important to us. In those situations we make choices. Choices that define who we are. Rafe made his choice that night. He put his wife above all, even me, his best friend. And you know what? I get it.”
My hands curl, my nails digging into my palms. Is he implying that he’d do the same for me? That he’d choose me?
He already has, hasn’t he? Only instead of putting me above his best friend, he put me above himself.
I swallow, my throat suddenly tight. “Don’t you want to at least think about Gino’s offer?”
“No.” His tone is resolute. “What he’s proposing is insane and dangerous.”
“The Bratva are the Russian equivalent of the mob?”
“Yes.”
“And the pakhan?”
“The pakhan is what they call their leader. The current pakhan of the Boston Bratva branch is a ruthless, paranoid old man who’s set on taking over New York, no matter the cost to his people. I doubt he’d even take the bait, but even if he did, the risk isn’t worth it. Not even close.”
“I’m guessing you’ve done far riskier things in the past,” I prod.
He shrugs as he pulls into the underground parking lot of the building. “Back when I only had myself to worry about, sure. But with you here, everything is different.”
Anguish wraps around my lungs. He’s sacrificing his only chance at a better life here for me. The Ferraros won’t give him another opportunity, that much is clear. The only reason they spared him was for this.
If he holds his ground and keeps refusing to play along… What if they decide they should just kill him after all?
I can’t let that happen.
If Nero and I pull this off, he wouldn’t have to do Alessio’s dirty work anymore. He’d have his own crew, his own people.
And I could ask Vita for something in exchange as well. If the Ferraros are as powerful as Nero says they are, she could get me the fake documents I need.
It would be my way out of here.
Seriously? Don’t tell me you’re considering working for a family of criminals, the voice of my conscience pipes in.
Unease slithers through me. That’s what it would be. No matter how civil the Ferraros seem, they’re criminals, and all criminals are cut from the same cloth.
But I won’t ever find a way to help Nero and myself if I play by the book.
“You miss it, don’t you?” I ask quietly. “Your old life. The way it was before.”
“It doesn’t matter,” his deep voice rumbles as he parks the car. “The only thing I want is to keep you safe. That’s the truth, even if you don’t believe me.”
I do believe him.
But I’ll never be safe with him.
Because there’s a real chance I might fall for this man again if I stay here longer. And I can’t repeat all of my mother’s mistakes.
That night, after Nero goes to sleep, I take out the phone Vita gave me and dial the one number saved in it.