Page 1 of Vicious Little Princess

1

~Nico~

“You just walked into a kill zone, mafia prince.”

Carlo’s words ran through my mind.

I was sure he intended them to be received in a haunting way.

But the bold statement with a healthy dose of a threat thrown in had actually given him away.

Not to mention this entire setup he’d arranged.

The heavy-handed nature of it wasn’t doing him any favors in concealing his true intent, either.

He didn’t need three dozen men to take us out.

It wasn’t just overkill or a demonstration of his power, because Carlo Benzino didn’t operate like that. He wasn’t insecure in his standing, with his position in our world. Even with this recent fucked-up shift with the alliances and the complete shattering of the three families treaty. He didn’t feel the need to prove himself. He knew how damned good he was, how accomplished, and how impressively adaptable he was.

This display was all for show.

What’s more was that you didn’t tend to announce your plan to murder someone. You just fucking did it. There was no preamble. You got a shot to take out your enemies; you took it. Immediately. It was an unspoken reality in our world. Unless torture was involved, but that would have been arranged a whole lot differently to this. Not with a face-off or a perceived ambush of this particular nature. It would be more a case of grabbing somebody off the street, tossing them into an unmarked vehicle, then transporting them to a dark hole somewhere, or a warehouse, to be brutalized. A place that would also make it easy to dispose of the body—or what was left of it—inconspicuously.

Carlo wanted something from me.

Or he wanted meforsomething.

He’d arranged all of this to gain my undivided attention.

Away from the Marchettis and Leones.

“Lay down your weapons,” I told Milo quietly.

“What? You’re serious?”

“Would I really be anything else in this sort of situation?”

He sighed, but did as I’d instructed, lowering his gun, securing it, then slowly laying it down on the ground before kicking it away. As he did the same with his backup gun, I divested myself of both of mine too, kicking them out of my reach.

My assessment of the situation was proven correct in the next moment as all of Carlo’s soldiers lowered their weapons in quick succession.

Carlo’s lip curled with appreciation. “You’re a great deal more intelligent than your uncle.” He shook his head to himself. “Fucking hothead, beyond all sense of reason.”

He was right on the money there.

I strode toward him, Milo tense and in his ready-for-anything state beside me.

“Where are my men?”

“Your men… hmm. Your first concern is them, rather than the rather lucrative coke shipment you need to deliver tonight to Harlow.”

I felt my eye twitch. He shouldn’t know about her.

“That bodes well,” he went on. “As does all my research on you.”

I played along—for the moment, unless he delayed on revealing where my soldiers were—and asked, “Research, to what end?”

“To determine the most optimal way to acquire your cooperation, of course.”

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