Book 2 in the 'Beautiful' Trilogy.
Niccolo De Luca, now 26 years of age and next in line to take over as The Don of the notorious De Luca family Mafia in New York. A respectable son, an admired brother, a loyal friend, and family member; but holdin...
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Niccolo's POV
I followed my father into his office, shutting the door behind me. He was silent for a bit as I leaned against the wall watching him.
"Niccolo, please understand I did not do this intentionally to hurt you. I tried respecting her wishes, and she brought out the 'I owed her one' card." My father said with an amused chuckle.
"Of course she did." I rolled my eyes with a slight grin. That woman always knows which buttons to push when she wants something.
"About a week ago she called Marcel." My father continued.
"Why Uncle Marcel?" I narrowed my eyes.
"I guess she felt like she couldn't trust anyone else with not telling you." My father assumed with a shrug of his shoulders.
"She told him she had your mother's shooter in custody. She wanted to meet to hand him over and she mentioned it was our kill, you and I."
"How did she find him when we couldn't?" I crossed my arms as I spoke. I watched him sigh deeply before continuing.
"She found him by chance. He attacked her in Mexico but she turned those tables very quickly."
"Why on earth would he attack her?" My brows knitted together as I tried making sense of it all.
"Because she knows him."
"Excuse me?"
"She knows him and so do you." My father spoke cautiously as I tilted my head at him.
"A certain Javier from her father's cartel."
The second that name dropped and sounded into my ear, I could feel my blood heating up and ready to explode.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I spoke through gritted teeth.
"No, son, I'm not. But I need you to calm down. We have him in the cells at the warehouse. We'll deal with him our way. But that is tomorrow's problem. Today you go be with the mother of your child. That is all that matters at this very moment." My father's tone was firm.
I stood there in silence as I rubbed my forehead. Then it hit me.
"Her arm," I mumbled.
"What was that?"
"When you met up with her, was her arm injured?" I looked up and met his gaze.
"It was. It was a fresh wound and heavily bandaged." My father confirmed it all making me close my eyes and gather my temper, placing it back into it's concealed space.
"Nico, don't upset her. She's been through a lot and right now she just needs you. Not the angry you, just you."
"I won't. Don't worry, I know you're right. But Dad, mark my words, tomorrow he's mine." I growled at him.
