The Italian Dom by N.J. Adel
CHAPTER 25
Nicky
My gaze never left the ring on my finger as I sat next to my…coyote, while Tino was giving a heartfelt speech about honor and fatherhood, toasting to my health, wishing me and his friend a long happy life.
“You like it?” Domenico’s voice came so distant, like a background noise.
I spied the vitreous violet hues of the teardrop gemstone in the middle. So beautiful. So precious. So didn’t belong in a bond of hate like ours. “It’s…heavy. What kind of stone is that?”
“It’s a purple diamond. Very rare. I got it specially for you. I know it’s your favorite color.”
Was that supposed to make me feel good? Valued? Cared for? If anything I was creeped out. In very little time, he figured out my favorite color, movie and breakfast, and I’d never told him any of it. Now, was I supposed to forget he lied to make me his prisoner forever, to have an eternal revenge on me, forget he fucking choked and touched me without permission, because he put on my finger a gazillion-dollar ring with a diamond in my favorite color?
I blinked up at him. “When did you have the time to find such a rare ring?”
He smirked. “I got a head start.”
My eyes narrowed. “You didn’t order it today, did you?”
“The night at the swimming pool, I pulled some strings with the Russians. They came through just in time.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that utterly creepy, arrogant, possessive, disturbing—yet somehow fucking sweet—gesture, so I asked the least important question that popped up in my mind. “The Russians?”
“It’s their turf in San Francisco. Diamonds.”
“Do…do you mean this is stolen?”
His brows inched up. “No. I paid for it in a totally legal purchase made every day. How it was mined and entered the country is a different story.”
“I see. So what’s your turf?”
He twined his fingers into mine, but I snatched them away. His smirk danced on the corner of his lips as he yanked my whole hand back into his, this time squeezing, holding it captive. Then he gazed into my eyes. “You are.”
My heart thudded in my chest. I hated this, being touched, being forced to feel a man’s hand on me…especially, when it confused the hell out of me.
“Would the bride and groom please open the dance floor?” My sister’s voice echoed down the reception hall. I glanced at her, and she was already holding her violin, smiling at me. “This one is for you, Sis.”
Domenico led me to the dance floor, and Lina started a peppy song I’d never heard before and would have never liked. But that was how I felt about everything here today. She had a role to play, though, and so did I. I danced with my groom, with my false father, my new capo and in the end, my sister and nephew. I pretended to listen to all the words they had to say, the advice, the warnings, the hopes, the lies, waiting the charade out.
Suddenly, Tino pulled Domenico to the side and had a brief talk with him and Enzio. When Domenico returned to our table, he was smiling. “Hope your two bags are still packed.”
I stared at him in shock. “Why? Am I being shipped to San Francisco already?”
“We were supposed to stay here until we captured Leo, and then I’d take you to a nice honeymoon in Italy before we went to my house in San Francisco, but there’s been a change in plans.”
Tino’s soldiers started to buzz around the mansion like busy bees at work. Tino himself was having the same hush hush side talk with Lina. A frown darkened her face as she nodded erratically and, protectively, circled her arms around Nick. When her eyes met mine, they glistened in spite of the fake smile on her lips.
My heart squeezed. If she was sad and Domenico was happy, it meant this couldn’t be good. “What change in plans?”
“It’s confirmed that Leo has left Italy, and Enzio said I could be spared. It means we’re good to go. Right away.”
“Go where right away?”
“Taormina. You’ll love our villa there. Looks like we’re getting our honeymoon tonight, little kitten.”
No fucking way.