Niccolo Fierri [Book #2]

Chapter 15

Niccolo's POV
"She's asking too many questions," Marcellius says.

"Why not just tell the girl?" Cesare says with a shrug. "She deserves to know."

"She doesn't deserve to know shit," I interject. "It doesn't concern her."

"You're such an asshole," Luciano says with a roll of his eyes. "I don't know what any women sees in someone like you. You treat women like trash."

"That information is nothing new to me, Luci." Stuffing a forkful of Lasagna into my mouth, I reach for my glass of whiskey and take a sip before setting it back down on the table.

"He's right Nic." I jerk my head in the direction of Mia's voice. "I think Autumn is a nice girl, and doesn't need to be surrounded by your ignorant ass."

Being interrogated by my family isn't how I planned my evening to go. I just wanted to eat my dinner and go about my day without any interruptions.

"You need to put your girl on a leash fratello(brother)," I say, finishing the last bit of food on my plate. "Her two cents isn't wanted."

Mia jolts to her feet, kicking the chair back in the process. Marcellius stands as well, readying to pummel my ass for making a comment about his wife.

Mia walks over to me, her hands resting on her hips. "I may be pregnant, but I will not hesitate to-"

"Mia." She stops mid-sentence and looks over at my brother. He shakes his head. "Don't encourage him. He's only trying to get under your skin."

A smirk tugs at my lips. He knows me so well.

"I know but-"

He shakes his head again and she gives up. Marcellius is glaring daggers at me as he wraps his arm around his wife's waist and leads her out of the dining room.

My mother is looking at me with a disappointed look in her brown eyes.

"What Ma?"

She, too, is shaking her head. "Why must you act like that figlio(son)?" I don't respond. I didn't have a response. It's how I've always been. "Acting like your father isn't going to get you anywhere."

"Don't you dare bring him into this!" I snap.

I don't realize I've abruptly jolted to my feet, and am pointing an angry finger at my mother until Cesare and Luciano who are also standing speak.

"How dare you raise your voice at Ma!?" Cesare shouts at me.

I bring my gaze down to my mother, making note of the look of fear in her eyes. She's one person I never wanted afraid of me. I swallow the lump that has lodged in my throat.

My eyes flicker to Luciano, hearing his low voice fill my ears. "Take a breather Nic." I notice the way his hand is raised protectively as if I'd actually harm our mother. It hurt. And I don't hurt easily. I'd never put her in harms way- ever.

Glancing back at my mother's wide eyed expression, and the way her lips have curved down into a frown, I step away from the dining table and walk out of the house.

I just keep walking, not looking or caring where I'm going. I just know that I need to get out of the house.

As much as I'd like to think I can control my anger and prevent myself from lashing out and putting my mother's life in jeopardy, they all had a right to be afraid. Afraid of me and my unpredictability.

It frightens me to think about. To think I would be such capable of harming my own family. I admit that I do enjoy adding fuel to the fire, but I don't want them to actually get burned. Not that I would ever admit it to them publicly, but I do care for them. More than they'll ever know.