xxvii.

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GIULIA'S POV

I watch the steam leave the mug in my hand as I pour in a decent amount of almond milk into the dark liquid. I absolutely hate black coffee, and I'm so thankful that they've finally added almond milk to the grocery list, thanks to yours truly.

I'm exhausted. I have a hair appointment this morning, but I couldn't sleep for the life of me until I finally snuck into Bianca's room, and kicked Romero out of the bed.

Nicolas didn't come home last night. While that's not absurd considering his profession. Do you even call the mob a profession? It totally threw me off that he didn't call, or text, or even reply to mine.

I really thought I was getting somewhere with him, not sure where, but somewhere. I sigh softly as I take a seat at a barstool, the squeak of the stool causing the whispering from the pantry to stop.

I frown a bit, not realizing that whatever the house staff was whispering about was possibly about me, but as soon as I see them peak their head around the corner and into the kitchen, I frown.

That's so odd. They're usually super nice to me, so the odd looks they're giving me right now, particularly how they're suddenly nervous makes me feel uncomfortable.

"Is something wrong?" I call out softly, earning a wary look from Lusina. She's a bit younger than the others, but particularly nice to me. I think I remind her of her daughters, whom are just a bit younger than me from what I remember. "You can tell me."

"I don't think that is a good idea, Miss Pagiano," she says in a thick Italian accent, eyeing the other members of the staff, but they quickly hurry away, clearly not wanting to be put on the spot either. I frown further, shaking my head as I don't seem to understand what's wrong.

"It's okay. Please tell me," I reassure her genuinely. I would never get mad or anything, even if they had done something, but I can't have them looking at me like that all day. Not after the terrible night I had worrying about Nicolas, and then falling asleep in the early hours for just a bit. "Go on."

I gesture her to come forward when she hesitates, but she does in fact come next to me. She glances around her, looking to see if anyone else is here. Not that it would matter, but I'm sure she knows Nicolas has the entire perimeter and inside of the house on camera, so it wouldn't matter regardless.

"Whatever it is, it's okay. Nothing will happen to you," I reassure her again, placing my hand on hers on the countertop. She nods slowly, pulling out her cell phone and scrolling for a few moments before she places the phone down in front of me.

"Mobsters love gossip too," Lusina whispers softly. "I am sorry, I didn't want you to see but you should know what everyone else does."

I stare down at the phone, before realizing this is a gossip site. I've seen it before. They've taken pictures of me since I've arrived in Boston, and the few times I've been outside with Nicolas.

Lifting the phone up, my heart slams into my chest when I see the headlines this morning. Well, the words don't bother me. In fact, I can't even read the words because my vision is focused on the images below them.

There's so many pictures. Not just one or two that might be incriminating, but tons. I swallow hard, trying so hard not to tear up because I don't want to look weak, but I genuinely feel sick.

There's girls. A lot of pretty, nearly naked women in these pictures with Nicolas, Vincenzo, and a few other guys I don't recognize. Some sitting in their laps. Some dancing with them. There's even a photograph of a woman with her lips on Nicolas. His hands on them.

This is where we was last night?

I shouldn't feel the way that I do, but I do. I thought that something was happening between us, and he's with other women? I know mobsters don't care about being faithful, but what's the bullshit that Nicolas is putting me through for? It doesn't make sense.

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