Page 11 of Die for You (Kiss or Kill #2)

Vince arches a dark brow. “Power,” he states like I’m some imbecile for not knowing this.

This suddenly seems so insignificant in the greater scheme of things. Gianna wants power, and all I want is to ensure the safety of my child.

My priorities have shifted, but I remember not too long ago basking in the power and revenge of when I ended Father Merry’s life. So I can’t be judgmental of her priorities.

But that doesn’t change my mind.

I want out.

“What do you need from me?”

“Enzo isn’t like his honorable brother. He likes pretty…things.”

Vomit rises for another reason this time.

“Get close to him, learn his secrets, and then…you kill him. Once this is done, Gianna can come back to Italy, and you may choose what life you want to live.”

I’m taken aback as I never thought this option was on the cards. But it seems Gianna is giving me a choice.

But I don’t have a choice.

I will do what I must to protect Lettie. And to do that…Enzo must die.

The sooner I succeed, the sooner I can leave this life behind.

I do this for my daughter.

I do this for myself.

“Where can I find him?”

“I will send you the details. Perhaps you should go shopping and buy something”—he looks me up and down, unimpressed with my attire—“nice.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to go fuck himself, but I nod instead.

Without anything further to say, I make my way back to Nico, my mind racing. When he sees me, he gives me a bouquet of wildflowers.

I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve any of this.

But as I realized, there are two of me, and this Valentina simply smiles.

The other me, however, claws at the confines of my chest, screaming to get out because blood will be spilled by my hands once again.

And only then…will I be free.

Nico and I are sitting at the dinner table, the radio humming low in the background.

I made meatloaf and a huge serving of the different produce we purchased at the market. The cannoli Nico bought looks delicious, but my appetite is shot.

I can’t stop thinking about today’s encounter with Vince.

I am pleased I finally have direction, but Gianna made clear I am to be Enzo’s mistress so to speak. I am to do whatever it takes to get close to him. The thought makes me feel sick.

But his death brings me freedom.

What choice is there?

The flowers Nico bought me sit in a crystal vase in the middle of the table. Such a sweet gesture, one I don’t deserve, seeing as I’m strategizing the quickest way to do what Gianna wants.

Nico reaches into his pocket, and I’m surprised to see a cell. He types something and holds the phone out to me.

I soon hear a robotic voice say, “The cannoli is sorry.”

Pursing my lips in confusion, I look down at my plate and see I have massacred the ricotta.

A laugh escapes me.

It seems Nico purchased a phone from the market today. It’s an older phone, but it has a translation app on it. Nico doesn’t seem like the type of guy who has socials, so I wonder if he got this for me.

The thought touches me.

I gesture for him to pass me the phone.

I type out my reply and switch the language so it’ll translate into Italian. “I’m the one who is sorry. I’m not much company.”

Nico frowns, shaking his head, and gestures for the phone back. He frantically types and presses a button. The robotic voice sounds. “Please don’t say sorry. You’re the best company I’ve had in a very long while. You can talk to the farm animals for only so long.”

I burst into laughter.

Nico is funny. I never thought so. I guess this allows me to understand his personality better, and so far, I like it.

I ask for the phone. “Why are you so kind to me?”

Nico mulls over my question.

His brows knit together as it seems he’s weighing up what to say. He sighs before typing out something that is the beginning of the end.

“Because I like you,” says the robotic voice.

“Why?” I ask, genuinely curious.

He doesn’t need the translator to understand me as he frantically replies. “Because you are good…even if you don’t believe it.”

I don’t know what to say.

His kind eyes are too much, as are his words, and I stand abruptly as I need air, but in my haste, I accidentally spill the half bottle of wine all over Nico’s white shirt.

He jumps up, but the damage is done.

“I’m so sorry!” Grabbing a napkin, I dab at his shirt, but this will stain if we don’t soak it. “Take off your shirt.”

He hesitates, but with fumbling fingers, I unbutton his shirt.

Each button reveals a sliver of hardened, olive skin.

Once the final button is undone, I have to remember to swallow because his pecs are perfectly shaped, and the sprinkle of hair running from his chest down to his belly button just adds to his masculinity.

He has a tattoo of a tree down the side of his ribs, which seems to emphasize his ripped abs.

I want to bury my face in that soft chest hair and take a big whiff because he smells so damn good.

Nico offers me the shirt, and I snap back to reality, taking it sheepishly.

I race to the laundry and take three calming breaths. Gripping the trough, I will my heart to calm down and stop acting like a lunatic.

My hands shake as I place his shirt into a bucket of hot water and a stain remover powder.

“Chill the fuck out,” I whisper to myself. “If he knew what you did, he wouldn’t be saying the things he does. Remember who you are.”

Hardly the pep talk one would usually want to hear, but it works.

As I reenter the kitchen, Nico stands topless, collecting the plates. A man who cleans up after himself.

Honestly, how is he single?

I wonder what his backstory is. He seems too good to be true.

My eyes drift to the front of his pants, and I see his jeans are also stained.

“I can soak them too?”

He looks at me, and I point at his pants.

He seems to wrestle with his decision, but eventually, he unfastens the top button. As soon as his zipper is halfway down, I hear a voice that is heaven and hell in one breath.

“Is this a private party, or can anyone join?”

Surely, I’m hallucinating.

Perhaps the fumes from the chemical cleaner got to my head, and I am delirious. But as he comes to stand behind me, his signature fragrance kicking me in the solar plexus, I know that Lennon is really here…and he is really going to kill Nico.

Spinning around, I place my hand on his chest, stopping him from lunging forward. Our eyes lock, and it feels as if time stands still. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him until now.

I was resigned to the fact that I may never see him again.

But here he is, looking like the epitome of every bad boy wrapped into one tall, muscular alphahole.

His hair is mussed, and he hasn’t shaved in days. But I still want to eat him alive.

“Miss me, tesoro mio ?”

That term of endearment slays me. It always has. But that smug smirk of his, tugging at that sinful mouth, pisses me off.

It’s the dose of reality I need as I shove him away while he chuckles.

“Get out,” I order, but it’s half-assed because I don’t mean it.

I have never wanted anyone to stay more than I do right now.

I suddenly feel faint as my stomach roils. It’s not a bad feeling, but I can’t help but think it’s Lettie—our baby responding to her father’s voice.

Lenny watches me closely as he knows me better than I know myself. “What’s wrong?”

“Other than the fact that you’re here, ruining my life?” I quip, hiding under sarcasm.

“Oh please, Casanova over there doesn’t really seem like the best conversationalist.” He juts out his chin at Nico.

I forgot he was here.

That’s how badly Lenny affects me.

Turning around, I soften my face because Nico doesn’t deserve any of this. I reach for the phone and type out a reply.

“I’m sorry, Nico. I have to talk to my friend alone. I will be all right. I will see you tomorrow.”

Nico’s attention bounces between Lenny and me.

Lenny laughs hilariously. “Fuck me. Is this how you communicate? I guess you’d both be really good at charades, though.”

“Lennon, shut up!”

Nico steps forward, which earns a low growl from Lenny.

Playtime is over.

“You heard her, dipshit. You’ve outstayed your welcome. Zip up your pants and leave. I’m giving you one chance and one chance only. You best take it.”

Nico’s nostrils flare, and he clenches his fists by his side.

Lenny simply scoffs in humor. “You look fucking ridiculous. Put on a shirt, for fuck’s sake. This isn’t WWE.”

Nico, however, doesn’t see the funny side to any of this and advances, primed on hitting Lenny.

“No!” I scream because I know this will not end well—for Nico.

Lenny pushes me out of the way and smacks Nico in the nose. Blood instantly pours from it.

“Lenny!” I cry, pressing a linen napkin over Nico’s nose.

Lenny jumps up onto the kitchen counter, unperplexed as he reaches for an apple from the fruit bowl. He chews it as he watches me nursing Nico.

“Should have listened,” Lenny says, pointing his finger at Nico. “Or maybe I should have used your translator?”

“This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny. Fucking testa di cazzo .”

It’s on before I can stop it as Nico shoves me out of the way and charges for Lenny. I trip over the bottle of wine on the floor and end up crashing into the wall. It’s an accident, but Lenny doesn’t see it that way. He launches off the counter and headbutts Nico, who stumbles backward.

Lenny doesn’t give him a chance to gather himself before he grabs him by the front of the neck and he shoves him into the refrigerator, choking him. Nico slaps at Lenny’s fingers, but I’ve seen Lenny fight—Nico doesn’t stand a chance.

I find my footing and jump onto Lenny’s back, hoping to stop him from choking out Nico.

It doesn’t work.

Lenny only seems to grip Nico harder, who turns red and gasps for air.

“Lenny, stop, you’re killing him! Please, stop!”

“That’s kinda the point.”

Lenny’s body is rigid, and I know he’s in a rage. I know this because when faced with bloodshed, my body responds the same way. This is why Lenny and I are bad for one another.