Page 104 of King Of Order

Minutes later, I stood by one of my pieces, a modern canvas with splashes of yellow and gold that I crafted over months, still mulling the curious and sudden shutting down and icing out in Rio’s manner.

I sensed something he was keeping from me but I couldn’t figure it out for the love of me. But he was holding out.

The gallery’s back door creaked open, a subtle sound lost in the room’s stillness. Absorbed in arranging a display, I didn’t hear the footsteps until it was too late.

A shadow loomed behind me.

I froze, pulse quickening as my hands stilled over the artwork I’d been tweaking.

Slowly, I turned to face him and jumped at the sight of a man, his black suit blending into the dim light. He was taller than me, lean, with a thin face and a sinister smirk playing on his lips.

One second, I was adjusting a pedestal; the next, he was there, his silhouette long and menacing against the whitewashed walls.

Even though he wore stylish clothes off a Milan runway, instinct told me this was no wealthy art collector.

His slicked-back hair and pure menace in his eyes signaled otherwise.

Heart pounding, I took a step back. ‘Who the hell are you?’

‘I’m surprised you’ve not done your research on your most influential client, Miss Tirone. Nicco Barbieri is my name.’

His eyes, dark and dangerous, locked onto mine, and a chill ran down my spine.

‘Chiara,’ he drawled, his voice as slick as oil, ‘you’ve been avoiding me. Not taking my calls, not answering my texts. You’ve forced me to see you in person.’

I swallowed hard, throat drying up. ‘You need to stop demanding early payment. We had an agreement, or rather, you forged one with Claudio. I’m keeping to the installment dates as agreed!’

Nicco ignored my question, stepping closer until the scent of his sharp and overbearing cologne filled the air between us.

Before I could back away, he reached out, his hand gripping my arm with bruising force. His smile turned cruel.

‘I set the schedule. I also get to blow it all to high water if I wish,’ he hissed, dragging me roughly toward the wall, his grip tightening as he shoved me back against one of my paintings.

The glass frame behind me rattled with the impact, the edges pressing into my shoulders.

I gasped, pain flashing through my body as I tried to push him away, but his clutch was like iron, trapped in his punishing grasp.

‘You think you can play games with me? Hide behind your art and pretend like your brother’s debts don’t exist?’ Nicco’s voice lowered, becoming more menacing with each word. ‘That money is mine, Chiara. You’re going to pay, one way or another.’

My heart pounded in my chest. Nicco was a Barbieri scion, a big name in Rome’s underworld.

He was not used to being thwarted by a minor player like us, Tirones. Our cache and power had diminished over the years, making us small fry compared to him.

I’d every reason to fear the man to my bones.

‘If you change the remittance date,’ I managed, voice shaking but defiant. ‘You need to speak with Claudio.’

Nicco laughed—a cold, harsh sound that cut through the air. ‘Why should I, if I can go direct?’

He leaned in closer, his lips near my ear, his breath hot and suffocating. ‘Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.’

Stepping back with a smug grin, he slid a hand behind my skull, then, with sudden ruthlessness, slammed my head once more against the glass.

This time, it shattered.

I cried out as shards fell off, sliced my skin as they fell, and smashed on the floor.

The mean lines on Nicco’s face deepened as the man exulted, his meaty hand gripping my arm, shoving me back again.

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