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FOURTEEN

THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

ROYCE

I t’s been three weeks since I stood in Nicolette’s kitchen, wearing the most ridiculous apron I found in her mother’s collection, realizing that the idea of surprising her with breakfast seemed a lot easier in my head than in reality. Coming from a guy who eats out for every meal—or bums cooking from Mona on the rare occasion I don’t—I haven’t cooked more than microwaveable shit in almost a decade.

I wanted to show Nic that I was more than a pretty face and a gun. If I wanted her to think of me as a partner, I needed to show her what I can bring to the table that isn’t just my money, my power, and my dick.

I mean, I plan on giving her all of that, too, but Nicolette… she’s different than so many of the women I’ve met since being a Sinner. She’s obviously been hurt by someone before, and I get the vibe it’s someone like me.

I want to show her that I’m different than what I seem, too.

As a fixer, I have a skill. I can do anything, get anything, arrange anything. If it doesn’t come easy, I focus. I plan. I learn. Right now, my goal is to make Nicolette Williams mine. Not for a night, and not because I was at the right place at the right time. You could even argue that I wasn’t —I got a frying pan to the side because she thought I was trying to break into her house—and, yet, she still invited me inside where one thing led to another and yeah… I got my night.

I want more .

Breakfast was my first step. To show her how thoughtful I can be while also setting the stage for step two: claiming Nic before she could even think of brushing that night off as a one-time thing. I was glad when she didn’t try to tell me that fucking me was her way of calling us even. As far as I’m concerned, the ten grand I was out is a small price to pay to keep her out of Miles Haines’s disturbed fantasies.

Once I got my first taste of her, though? I knew I was right. No matter why she caught my attention in the first place, she has it now—and every day that passes makes me fall deeper and deeper for this woman.

It started out as curiosity. By the time I was stalking her around Springfield, telling myself I was just keeping an eye out for her… it was obsession. The more time I spend with her, though? Getting to know every facet of Nicolette? I’m beginning to wonder if this is what being in love is like.

I want to say it is. This feeling like every fucking breath I have is dedicated to her, that when she smiles, I smile, just because her happiness brightens my day. When I was in high school, I had a few girlfriends that made me feel this way. Silly puppy love where I’ll do anything for her approval, and one kiss from her makes me feel like I can do anything.

I’ve never experienced this as an adult. In my early twenties, I was busy working alongside Link, building up the syndicate. Fuck knows that he wasn’t interested in chicks back then—even if it took me a while to find out why—and without that being a focus for him, I wasn’t really too concerned with getting into a relationship myself. I dated, sure, and I screwed around, but it was never anything serious.

And then I held a near-stranger as she died when I was twenty-four. She told me she loved me. I barely knew her… and she died in my arms.

After that, I never thought I’d love anyone —until Nic.

But there’s a dark side to my overwhelming love for her, too. When I first stepped off the straight and narrow path when I was a kid, I realized that life isn’t made up of blacks and whites. It’s shades of grey, and just like how I went from being vice president of the student council when I was a senior in high school to falling in with organized crime shortly after I graduated, the dangerous parts of life have always attracted me.

Is it because I have a dark side of my own? Probably. And the more time I spend with Nicolette, the more I find myself fighting against it.

It’s times like these that I understand why Link walked away from Ava, and why he did everything he could to keep her when he had his second chance.

The darkness hidden beneath my crooked smile and Ken doll looks is just begging to get out, to cocoon Nicolette, to love and keep her and eliminate anyone who would take her from me. I’m obsessed with her… and she acts like this is just a fling to keep her warm through the winter.

It’s been three weeks, and while I got her to agree that we’re exclusive—and, trust me, it was a blow to my ego that even getting that out of her was like pulling teeth—that’s all I could get her to agree to. She had no idea that I’m playing the long game here. What we have… this is it for both of us. We’re forever. Even if there’s someone else I might ever feel the same way about, I don’t care. She’s mine… and I know her well enough that, if she believed that I meant it the first time I told her she was, she’d spook and run.

Nic is hiding something. That camera was a huge clue, though she shuts down whenever I try to mention it. Still, there are times when she looks at me like I’ve hung the fucking stars for her, and others when our eyes meet, but I know she sees someone else. It’s in the way she constantly looks over her shoulders. It’s in the cameras she has posted around her house. It’s in the way she whispers my name wistfully as I fuck her in her childhood bed, in her mother’s house, trying to make her mine anyway I can while I know—I just know —that she’s counting the moments until I walk away from her.

Because that’s the thing. I get the feeling that Nicolette isn’t going all in because she’s not interested. It’s because she is and she doesn’t believe that I could be.

Which makes it my responsibility to prove to her that I am .

As much as I want to, I can’t pull a Devil; not unless I want to lose her completely. Link forced Ava into marrying him so that he could keep her, and though the idea of making Nicolette my wife has me rock-hard, I know better than to bring it up. As far as she knows, it’s only been a few months since I paid her any attention. If she found out I’ve been watching over her since November ?

Yup. That’ll spook her. Worse, I’m absolutely convinced she’ll take off. Just run, leaving me behind, and though I’d find her… I’d rather I didn’t have to.

So, instead, I’ve devoted any free moment I have—when Link doesn’t need me for Sinners biz, or I’m not checking in with Jake—to making Nicolette comfortable with the idea of forever with me.

She gets antsy when we go out to dinner? Since it becomes pretty clear that, of the two of us, I’m actually the better cook, we order in and eat in the living room together. When I realize that Nicolette’s favorite thing to do is curl up and watch a musical? I force myself through the first few before admitting they’re not so bad.

Plus, since most of the song-and-dance movies are like three hours long, she’s more than happy to invite me to spend the night after they’re done. Throw in the fact that she likes the more romantic ones, she’s usually in the mood to fuck when they’re over, and I’m happy to oblige.

I’m happy to give Nicolette everything she wants—and that includes time .

No one knows that we’re together. No. Scratch that. No one in Nic ’s life knows that we’re together. Link was aware from the moment I sent the shot of her hair on my chest. Of course, that means that Ava also knows. Then, because I’m a high-ranking Sinner, I had to let the guys know that Nic isn’t just a Playground employee. She’s important to me, and it’s their balls if anything happens to her.

With her mother sticking it out in Florida through the winter, she decides to hold off on introducing me until she’s back in Springfield. She has no dad in the picture, and all of her friends are back in Willowbrook. Since she was so determined to keep her job at the Playground, we’re keeping it hush-hush there so that none of the other staff accuse her of getting preferential treatment.

That was Nicolette’s idea. I went along with it against my better judgment, telling myself it didn’t matter. Anyone who counts is fully aware what role she has in my life, and as much as she wants to act like I’m her dirty little secret, that’s kinda hard when I whisk her away at every chance to my personal office next door so that I can remind her just who she belongs to.

Because she’s mine—and, sooner or later, everyone will admit that.

Including Nicolette.

I’ve fucking outdone myself.

Tonight marks one month since I’ve made it obvious to Nicolette that she’s it for me. And though it’s beginning to piss me off that I can’t shake the feeling she has one foot out the door, I’m determined. I will make this impossible woman fall in love with me or die trying.

She likes flowers, and I spent enough at the florist shop where Burns’s wife works to keep that place afloat the rest of the year. When her favored sweatpants got a hole in them after I was a little too eager to get them off of her, I bought her three pairs to replace them—then figured out how to use a needle and thread to sew it up myself because it was how well-worn they were that she liked.

Tonight, though? If she’s holding onto any doubts that I’m in this for good—that this isn’t just me playing around because that’s what “Rolls” Royce McIntyre does—it’s my plan to erase all of them with one impeccably planned night out.

At first, Nicolette has no idea where I’m taking her. She seems surprised—and, admittedly, a touch suspicious—when I tell her that we’re heading out of Springfield, though she relaxes once I add that we’re heading into Riverside.

Riverside is a local city to Springfield, about a forty-minute’s drive away. It’s not as populated, with about half as many residents, but it’s full of museums, restaurants, and theaters.

Once I learned that Nicolette’s big ‘thing’ was Broadway, I went into research mode. Luckily for me, there was a national tour of one of her favorites passing through our area. For about two weeks, the touring cast would be performing The Phantom of the Opera at the Riverside Performing Arts Center.

With one hell of a donation made by ‘anonymous’, I was able to get a pair of primo seats on the night of our anniversary.

Nicolette’s already bouncing in place when I’m valeting the car. As soon as I said Riverside, I think her mind started whirling. Of course, I couldn’t contain myself, giving her a few hints during the drive, and by the time we’re walking into the large theater, she knows exactly what I’ve brought her to witness.

“I’ve always wanted to see this live! I mean, I’ve watched the movie a hundred times, and then there’s the 25th anniversary concert, but an actual performance? This is amazing!”

I love her excitement. As a fixer, I get a jolt of pleasure whenever I pull off a seemingly impossible task. Some people get turned on by a flash of skin or a pair of tits. Me? I’ll appreciate a nice rack as much as the next hetero guy, but I’m all about getting a job done right.

When she throws herself into my arms, kissing me in the middle of the crowd outside waiting to have their tickets scanned, my cock twitches down below. I was already hard—that’s my usual state around this woman—but the sweet hug and honest affection she shows me? I want nothing more than to hoist her up, wrap her legs around my waist, and encourage her to show me how grateful she is.

Of course, I can’t do that. But I do drop my mouth to hers, kissing her deeply while claiming her publicly. It’s the first time she’s allowed me to do that, not caring that there are others around as she goes up on her tiptoes, threading her fingers through my hair.

Someone whistles nearby. Nicolette jerks, as though suddenly reminded that we’re not alone. Her tanned cheeks turn red as she flushes, but I could give a fuck. This is the first time I’m able to show her off without her wondering what people will think about her sleeping with her boss.

I know that still bothers her. She tells me it doesn’t, but I’m pretty good at figuring out when someone is lying to me.

I don’t call her out on it. Not yet. Instead, I work on proving to her that it doesn’t matter. She has her job, I do my best not to interfere too much, and we spend as much of our free time together as we can.

Like tonight.

Taking her fingers, I lead her past the growing line. A few theater-goers mutter about me cutting the line, but when I flash my ticket at the usher up front, he sees where I’m seated, knows that I must’ve paid a pretty penny for the location, and lets us go in.

Or maybe spending the last decade at Link’s side means that some of his ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ attitude has rubbed off on me. Despite my crooked smile, no one stops us as we step inside. In fact, another usher beelines right toward us, ready to escort us to our seats.

I wave him off since I already got a tour last week when I came by to pick out our box, then tuck Nicolette against my side as I start across the lobby.

After a small stop, I find the stairs that will take us to our seats. Only after we reach the heavy red curtain and I pull it aside before gesturing for her to go ahead of me do I explain. “I got us our own private box. Just me and you, baby.”

She takes in the small enclosure with only two seats. It overhangs the left side of the stage, high enough that the other patrons might see our faces in the light and that’s about all. Once it’s dark? They shouldn’t see even that .

Her soft brown eyes light up as she takes it all in. When she finally turns to look at me again, I say, “It’s not box five since they’re not numbered like that, but I thought it worked for the occasion.”

Nicolette blinks. “You know about Phantom ?”