Page 97 of Where the Wicked Reign

And as much as I’d craved that when all of this had first started, now I found the prospect of it—to going back to my life without Nico and the guys there getting up in my space and mind-fucking all over it—heavier that I had expected.

This new reality was clearly already engraving itself deep under my skin.

Theywere.

18

~Nico~

“You’re right to be afraid, Caterina. You won’t escape me now. You won’t escape yourself. There’s no more hiding.”

I’d meant every fucking word to her that night.

I’d felt every fucking word.

Neither the sentiment nor the conviction had waned since then.

In fact, it was the direct opposite.

I’d finally had her in the way I’d wanted and there was no going back following that. She was buried deep under my skin and I fucking knew it was the same for her.

I’d seen it. All over her face. In her changing actions toward me, the way we conversed.

She was open, softer with me, more trusting.

Of course, with Caterina, it would be a long way and one hell of an uphill battle before that trust would come close to being absolute.

But we’d made great strides, regardless.

She was there with me.

Not just me, she was warming to the boys well, too.

Slowly but surely, she was becoming a part of us.

I had to make it slow, not just for her, but for the boys.

Especially Milo.

Although he’d come around a little when it came to her, he was still on guard and on edge about the whole thing.

And Julian was conflicted. He’d grown fond of her, but like Milo, he worried about the sanctity of our brotherhood. It had been just the three of us for years, for more than a decade now, so altering that and opening it up to another was no small thing.

That was the theme right now. Treadingsocarefully all around.

Nothing could fall out of balance, nothing could be left unaccounted for, every single thing had to be in line. Or we were all fucking done for.

It was one of the reasons I’d had to do the last thing I’d wanted and step back from Caterina, to give her space.

Milo’s warnings hadn’t fallen on deaf ears like he’d mistakenly believed.

I’d heard him loud and clear.

I honestly just hadn’t wanted to listen initially. I hadn’t wanted it to be true.

But the night of the Santino flesh trade takedown had brought it slamming home to me in an undeniable way.

I cared.

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