No more fucking questions. I can’t think straight anymore. I’ve rehashed the scene too many times to count in my own head on the way over here, and to have to speak the words, to see those horrific images come to life again, to hear the sounds of screeching tires and crushing metal…it all makes my stomach roll.

Heavy pounding between my temples drowns out the alarms, elevated voices, and incessant beeping sounds of the Emergency Room at Holy Name Hospital. I take a deep breath, cringing as the sharp smells of bleach and antiseptic assault my lungs. Cleanliness and death. That’s the association my brain makes once the scent of the chemicals invades my nostrils.

There are a million other words that could be coupled with cleanliness…health, protection, safety…why do I automatically think death?

Is it just my defense mechanism? If I expect it, does that mean I can act to prevent it?

So far, that theory has yet to be proven.

The cop taking notes in the chair opposite me taps his pen on his leg. His line of questioning screeches to a dead stop. Finally. There were no eyewitnesses other than me. The truck and the blue minivan took off before I could get plate numbers. There are no leads, which is exactly the way the hit was planned. This cop has no information to go on, but I don’t bother to restate the obvious. We both know that nothing will come of this pathetic excuse of an investigation. “I think I have everything I need, Mr. Salesi. Thanks for your help. If you think of anything else, please give me a call.”

He hands me a card, and I stuff it into my pocket. I won’t be using it. I’ve thought about plenty else in the time I’ve been sitting here, and none of it involves Officer Whatever the Hell His Name Is.

He won’t hear from me.

The cop stands and holds out his hand. “I’m really sorry about this. I hope your dad is okay.”

“Thanks,” I mumble.

He backs away, heading toward the group of cops and EMTs near the exit. I stare at the phone clutched in my hand. I told Shaye to stay away, but fuck, I need her. So badly.

I won’t call. I can’t. She needs to keep her distance from me. I meant every word I said. It’s for her own safety. Christ only knows who’s out there lurking, waiting to take out the next victim. I can’t let it be her. I’ll protect her until my last fucking breath.

I pace the lobby because sitting is the last thing I want to do right now. If I sit, then I’ll think. I’ll remember. And I can’t get caught in that net right now. It’s not the time to think. It’s time to make my move, something I should have done a long time ago.

But this time, I’m not thinking about plans. I’m not considering a crew. All of my brilliant ideas about bringing together the guys who’d ultimately help me take down the enemy? Not worth a damn right now.

This is something I need to do on my own. That’s what Luca wants. Carlo, my dad—they’re just collateral damage to him. I know how that fucker thinks. He’s using them to get to me. He’s calling me out.

And fuck me if I can stay away any longer. The longer I hide, the more people get hurt. Or worse. I can’t have any more blood on my hands.

This ends tonight—one way or another. It’s either him…or me.

“Nico?”

A soft hand grazes my forearm, and I twist around to see Sloane’s frightened expression. “I just got here for my shift. I saw your dad’s name on one of the charts, and I heard you were out here. I’m so sorry about the accident.”

I nod, rubbing the back of my neck. “Thanks.”

“Has the doctor talked to you yet?”

“Only for a few minutes when we got here. He’s still in the operating room with my dad. He needed emergency surgery because of a collapsed lung.”

“Well, Dr. Jameson is one of the best emergency surgeons on the East Coast. Your dad is in great hands with him.” Sloane shifts from one foot to another, her eyes scouring the Emergency Room waiting area. “Is your mom here?”

“Not yet, she’s on—"

“Nico!” My mother’s high-pitched voice jolts me from my thought, and I spin around as she rushes toward me, her hand clutching Lily’s. My heart clenches when I see their tear-streaked faces. I hug them close, tightening my grip, thanking God that Duke got them here safely. I nod at him, and he gives me a little salute before retreating to the opposite end of the waiting room to stand guard against whoever would be stupid enough to show up here looking for me.

Mom pulls away, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. “How did this happen?” she whispers. I know she’s doing it for Lily’s benefit. I lean down to pick up my sister, and she lays her head on my shoulder, quietly crying into my shirt.

“I want to see Daddy.” Her body quivers. “Where is he, Nico? I want to see him!”

“I know, Lil.” I rub her back, trying to settle her down even though the urge to crumble is overwhelming. Her little body trembles against my chest, each soft whimper slicing into my heart. Christ, I need to hold my shit together right now and keep my head in the game. Rage bubbles beneath the surface, rumbling in my core, ready to spew at any given second. But I have to hold back for the time being. I need to be strong for my family. I need to make sure they feel safe and secure. I can’t give them that security if I erupt like a fucking volcano right here in the waiting room.

“Is he going to be okay? Have you heard anything yet?” Mom wipes away the tears streaming from her eyes. “Will he—?”

“Mrs. Salesi,” Sloane interjects. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but why don’t I take Lily for some ice cream and give you two a chance to talk privately?” She looks at me. “I’ll find you as soon as Dr. Jameson is out of surgery.”

“Thanks, Sloane.” I graze the back of her shoulder. “I really appreciate it.”

Mom forces a smile. “Yes, thank you.”

“Lilibelle,” I murmur, setting Lily on the floor and smoothing down her hair. “My friend Sloane is going to take you to the cafeteria for some ice cream. Is that okay?”

Lily looks up at Sloane, sniffs, and nods. “Yes.”

Mom gives her a quick hug. “I’ll come to meet you in just a few minutes, pumpkin.”

“Okay, Mommy.” She holds out her hand to Sloane and they walk down a corridor toward the cafeteria.

I take my mother’s hand and lead her toward a row of unoccupied chairs in a corner. An image of Carlo’s mangled body flashes across my mind, followed by one of his wife crumbling to the floor once Duke and I delivered the news to her that night. He was her life. And she lost him because of me.

Tears pool in my mother’s dark eyes, her mouth quivering as she struggles to maintain some degree of composure. My dad, her best friend and confidante, is lying on a table in the operating room with massive internal bleeding from the hit, and at this minute, I have no idea if she’s about to lose him, too.

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” I whisper. How can I comfort her when her soulmate is clinging to life, hooked up to machines that need to breathe for him because he can’t do it on his own? He should have never been in that car. If I hadn’t stormed out of there, if I’d have just stayed and talked to him instead of losing my shit like that…

They would have still found him

I know that in my heart.

My gut clenches. He may die, and I never got a chance to tell him I’m sorry. I need to apologize for so damn much. I can’t lose him. Not yet. Not this soon, not this way. He has so much more to see and do. His wife, his baby girl…fuck! This was in my control and I fucked it all up!

I clutch the sides of my hair and tug at them, letting out a low growl. “I’m sorry for doing this to you, to Lily. It’s my fault! It’s my fucking fault!”

And in a blink, my mother’s arms capture me and hold me tight. I try to pull away, to force myself out of her grip, but it’s too strong.

I don’t deserve any mercy. I don’t deserve her comfort.

She doesn’t agree. “Stop this,” she murmurs, rubbing my back. “You’ve been given a lot, Nico. Dad knew it would be hard for you to step into this role, but he always felt confident you’d be able to handle it. It’s a dangerous life. Always has been. And you know as well as I do that Dad has done plenty to make himself a target. Don’t think for a second that you put your father in there, because you didn’t. This is the life we chose and with it comes a lot of decisions and consequences.”

Her voice quivers, but her words hit me like a cement block. I stay in that spot for several minutes…I think, but I can’t be sure. It feels like time stopped when that truck plowed into my dad’s car. Seconds drag, feeling like hours. I let the grief pour out of me, allow myself to really feel the losses instead of suffering in silence. I don’t give a fuck if it makes me look weak. Somehow, just the opposite happens, and I feel empowered. The sadness, the guilt, the remorse…there was so much polluting my soul, so much I could never allow to be seen because of peoples’ perceptions of who and what I am...what’s expected of me.

Fuck that. I’m letting it all go. I have to if I’m going to do what I need to do to finally make things right. I can’t allow myself to be crippled by these useless emotions anymore. As they vacate my body, the grit and focus that have long been buried are finally exposed. Those are the things I need right now, not all of the other bullshit that’s been plaguing me.

I may not be a killer, but I’m not a fucking pussy either.

I’m the CEO, and this family is my business.

My first task is to find the competition. Right now, they’re underground, working in the dark, undetected like fucking cockroaches afraid of being exposed.

But I’m gonna shine a bright light onto them, making them scatter and panic so they can see their end…right before I crush the bastards.