The man collapsed, gurgling as his body spasmed against the kitchen tiles. His fingers scraped weakly across the floor for a few seconds before going still.
"Marco! You'll clean up," I said calmly, setting the knife beside the half-empty glass on the table.
"Carmen, come. I'll walk you back to your room."
We had just stepped out of the kitchen, with me leading, when I heard her speak from behind me, loud enough to sound almost urgent.
"I'm hungry!" she said.
I stopped and looked at her. A grin slowly spread across my face. She still had an appetite after watching me kill a man.
"We'll head to the upstairs kitchen then."
Carmen's POV
My hands still shook slightly, though I forced my breathing to steady as we walked down the quiet hallway.
Nico opened the door to another kitchen and I followed him inside.
"I thought Mad James was the Don for the west. How did you take over?" I asked, curious enough to want to know. I needed to know how he suddenly became powerful enough to kill a mafia Don and not be hunted by everyone around him.
He smirked but kept walking to the refrigerator.
"It was easy killing him," Nico said while opening the fridge. "After turning the managers, getting to him was easy. He had ten of them. Only one was truly loyal."
"The hard part was getting rid of anyone that could be a hindrance," he continued while looking through the containers inside. "Snakes are harder to find, but easier to kill."
He glanced back at me.
"What do you want to eat?"
"Anything!"
He began pulling containers from the fridge and plating food. Only one plate, to my surprise.
"Do you see me as family?" I suddenly asked. It was better to know where I stood with him. It didn't help that I owed more money than I could ever realistically pay back.
He leaned against the counter.
"…even if my mother killed your father?" he asked, a dark look settling in his eyes that made me freeze.
I would kill her! I responded silently to myself, the thought sharp and immediate. I didn't say it out loud, but somehow I had the strange feeling that he was already aware of what had crossed my mind.
"You think she did?" I asked him with a frown on my face, recalling my father's last words to me.
It's a man… has to be!
"I don't know if she did," he added with a careless shrug. "But I wouldn't put it past her."
Then his expression hardened slightly.
"You need to focus on paying me back and what you'll do after that."
"Vito in the east and Gotti in the south will come for you," he continued calmly. "And if you return west, there's still a traitor there who'll try again."
"What? And you're my knight in shining armor?" I chuckled with a smile that didn't reach my eyes. He was a Don. He spoke to me, but I was certain half the things he said were lies. That was simply the way things were.
Was I really supposed to believe he rescued me out of the goodness of his heart?
He smiled faintly.
"Me? I'm the big bad wolf keeping the other wolves from devouring Little Red," he replied as the microwave tinged and he pulled the steaming plate out, passing it toward me.
"Why?" I asked as I picked up the plate, meeting his gaze with something close to a pleading look while watching him rummage around the drawers for cutlery.
"Why?" I asked again in a much fiercer tone, annoyed by all the metaphors he kept throwing around instead of answering directly.
I watched him pause.
Taken aback, I saw him lean forward slightly, his fingers drumming lightly against the counter as he slowly responded.
He met my gaze, a faint hint of a smile lingering on his lips.
"Why? Isn't it obvious?" he asked.
"To devour Little Red. Why else?" he added, his eyes glinting with amusement in a way that made it difficult for me to tell whether he was still joking or not.
Still, I was more than relieved when, at that moment, the microwave tinged again, signaling that the food was properly warmed and could now be eaten.
Stepping closer to get the plate from his hands as he took it out of the microwave, I watched him suddenly pull it back.
"What?" I asked him, baffled.
"We'll go out tomorrow. Make a public showing," he said. "They know you're here, but it's better to leave no doubt in their minds."
"You want to parade me around and show off your new possession?" I asked him as I reached out for the plate again, no longer waiting for him to hand it over.
"How else would they back off?" he replied, finally allowing me to take it as I steadied the warm plate in my hands.
I shook my head.
I might have been more wary of Nico if not for the fact that he was also a potential heir—at least until we saw my father's will.
"Goodnight," I told him, turning around to leave as I found another plate to cover my food, intending to keep it warm until I got back to my room.
But I had just turned when I heard him speak behind me.
"Wear something red!" he called out.
I scoffed loudly enough for him to hear as I continued walking toward the door, only to hear him speak again.
"I'll knock a million off your debt if you wear red," he said and I could hear the mirth in his voice as he spoke.
I didn't stop walking as I headed back to my room.
His ploy was clear, which only made it more dangerous to dabble in.
Instead of compelling me to do his bidding through violence like most people would have done, Nico Romano had chosen money as his weapon of choice.