Page 13 of Nikola

Arianna married Matteo, and Hannah was still recovering. Gianna, their younger sister, had been coming and going, focused on spending more time with her family.

“Has anyone heard from Hannah?” Amara asked. When nobody answered, she pinned Francesca with a stare. Her family and the Morrellis were tighter than ever, and she was usually more than eager to dish out gossip. “Any updates, Francesca?”

Matteo’s sister just shrugged. “All I know is that she’s in Ireland, recovering.”

“We should ask Gianna when she’s back,” Penelope added, catching the grimace I shared with Amara. “You’re probably right. It would upset her.”

“Doesn’t it seem odd that of all the places in the world, she went to Ireland?” Francesca questioned.

“She has some family there, no?” The many limbs of our respective family trees were beyond complicated, and sometimes it was hard to keep track of everyone’s relations.

Penelope, who was also Hannah’s cousin, shook her head. “My uncles—Mama’s brothers—have a place there. But Hannah isn’t related to them. Not by blood anyhow.”

We waited for her to elaborate, but she remained silent.

“So she’s staying with them?” Francesca questioned with a puzzled expression.

“What’s with all the questions?” Penelope retorted wryly.

Francesca let out a sigh. “I kind of miss her crazy ass. Arianna’s hitched. Gianna is barely here. Which, same goes for you, by the way.”

“Who?” everyone asked at the same time, but Francesca didn’t look away from Penelope.

“You guys haven’t noticed her slipping in and out of campus?” She crossed her arms, not seeming affected by the way our friend was squirming.

Penelope’s cheeks flushed a deep red as she muttered, “Blabbering ass.”

“Where have you been going?” I signed, then frowned. “I hope you’re being safe.” She didn’t need me saying the words “organ traffickers” to know how serious the situation was. Especially not with what had brought us here tonight.

“I am,” Penelope signed, her shoulders slumping. “I’ve been… doing some research.”

“Research?” Francesca repeated.

Penelope looked uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other, her mouth opening and closing.

Deciding to step in and help her, I waved over my head to capture everyone’s attention before I signed, “I kissed Nikola.”

As expected, three sets of eyes turned my way and I caught Penelope’s mouthed “Thank you.”

“Why would you do that?” Amara asked in shock.

“Yeah, why? He’s…” Francesca apparently struggled to find adequate words to describe him. “He’s just so fucking nuts.”

I shrugged. “He’s a good kisser.”

There was so much more to Nikola than they could see. He was more than just the crazy and wild person everyone thought he was. I knew who he really was and saw past all his Russian craziness. Or I could tell them about the pleasure that Nikola’s hands could bring, but I didn’t think the girls could handle me telling them about his expert mouth and magic touch.

So I kept all that for myself. There was one thing I knew for certain though: I would have Nikola’s lips on me again.

“Ah, it looks like yourgood kisseris up for the chase,” Amara said, her mouth moving slowly for my benefit.

I whipped my head around to find the man in question standing in the middle of the woods. The painted face of a ruthless mobster, ready to hunt.

“Tonight we show what happens to human traffickers,” Penelope signed Nikola’s words for me.

Everyone’s attention was on him, his upper body bare despite the chilly November temperature. And call me silly, but I wanted to stomp my way over to him and demand he put his shirt on.

Only I was allowed to admire the inked canvas of his chiseled abs.