Page 49 of Triplets for the Mafia Prince

"For now." His eyes meet mine. "I have connections, people who hate my father as much as I do. But reaching out to them is dangerous. One wrong move and?—"

"We're dead," I finish.

He nods. "I need time to figure out who we can trust, who might be willing to move against him. What I need to do is get back to New York. The longer I'm away, the more my allies may turn to my father."

I move to the window, watching fresh snow start to fall again. "Even if the roads get plowed, this storm system isn't done. It’s started snowing again."

Nic joins me at the window, his presence warm at my back. "We don't have days. Every hour I'm away from New York weakens my position."

"And every hour we're stuck here keeps us alive." I turn to face him. "You're still recovering. The roads are dangerous. If we crash or get stuck…" I let the words hang there, remembering how close he came to dying from his gunshot wound.

"I know." His jaw clenches. “But—” Before he can argue further, the lights flicker once, twice, then die completely. It’s still daytime, but with the snow falling, the room darkens significantly. The gentle hum of the heating system falls silent, leaving only the howl of wind outside.

The reality of our situation hits me. We have no power which means no heat, no light, no way to cook food. We're truly cut off now.

“I guess we need to switch focus,” he says, his voice matter of fact. It reminds me that in his world, staying calm in the face of adversity is an asset. It helps soothe my worry. “First priority is staying warm."

I turn into him, lean into his warmth. His arms come around me. Our situation has gotten worse, but here, in his arms, I feel safe. If only I could stay here forever.

19

NIC

Istare out the window at the endless white, watching another layer of snow pile onto the already deep drifts. The power outage leaves us in eerie quiet, broken only by Bella's breathing.

I’m at peace.

It makes no sense. My father is trying to kill me. I’m recuperating from a gunshot wound. There’s a blizzard outside. And now the power is out, meaning no heat. And yet, standing in the quiet with Bella pressed against me, I’m at peace. It’s a new experience. I’ve never felt it. I've never allowed myself moments like this. My whole life has been strategic moves and watching my back. Even my occasional trysts with women were calculated, emotionless encounters.

But with Bella, I want to linger in this suspended reality where I can touch her without guilt, where I can pretend we're just a man and a woman drawn together by desire rather than thrown together by attempts on our lives.

The rational part of my brain knows this calm is dangerous. We're exposed here, vulnerable. Yet I can't bring myself to feel the usual alertness that's kept me alive all these years.Something about her presence disarms me in ways that should terrify me but instead feel… right.

“I guess we should prepare for the night when there won’t be any daylight, too,” Bella says, breaking into my thoughts. Her voice pulls me back to our reality.

“We need flashlights. Check the kitchen drawers. There's bound to be emergency supplies. I’ll look in the closets.” I leave Bella going through the drawers. In the hall closet, I find a battery-powered lantern and several flashlights. A quick check reveals dead batteries in all but one flashlight. “Look for batteries,” I call down to her.

“Already collecting them.”

It’s a reminder to me that while she might be innocent and sheltered, she’s smart.

I go through the bedrooms, checking closets and drawers for whatever they might hold that we can use. In the side table of the bedroom with the queen-sized bed, I find a box of condoms. At first, I ignore them and then, I stop. I think of Bella’s soft skin. Of the way her hand jerked me off until my head nearly exploded.

No. I shouldn't be thinking of that. I need to think of survival now and once we leave here. And yet…

“Fucking pervert.” I take a strip and shove them in my sweatpants pocket.

I return to the kitchen, feeling like a teenage boy planning his first sexual encounter. I set my stash of flashlights and lantern on the dining table. “I’m going to bring in more wood. We should close up the rest of the room to concentrate the heat in the living room by the fire.”

“Look at you, all prepared and organized," Bella says, a teasing lilt in her voice. "Who knew the big, bad Mafioso was such a Boy Scout?"

I pause, giving her my best offended look. "I'll have you know I got kicked out of the Boy Scouts. Something about teaching the other kids how to pick locks."

Her laugh echoes through the dim kitchen, and for a moment I forget we're hiding from killers in a powerless cabin. The sound warms me more than any fire could.

"I bet you still earned your wilderness survival badge first," she quips, arranging emergency candles on the counter.

"Please. The only badge I earned was for creative interpretation of the rules. Though I did learn that being prepared isn't just for scouts. It's also for those of us who occasionally need to disappear or get out of scrapes."

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