Page 17 of Surprise Pregnancy for Villain

I cringe at her reminder of the incident. Not my finest moment. “Do you think Simon would settle for a wife instead of a girlfriend?”

Katie stares at me like I just grew an extra head. “You’re joking, right?”

“He’s got his own place,” I carry on, unable to stop the stream of my conscious thoughts from turning into words and tumbling out of my mouth. “A steady job. He could afford my tuition. I’d pay him back once I got my career off the ground—”

“Nicki!” Katie interrupts. “Slow down. You’re talking about betraying the mob by marrying someone else. Do you understand what that means?”

Yes, I know exactly what she means. “My dad would never let anyone hurt me.”

“No, they won’t, but can you say the same for Simon?”

“His dad and brothers are law enforcement. My dad isn’t stupid.”

“And Lucca’s family?” She leans in and grips my shoulders. “I get it. You’re scared and desperate, but you’re smart. Please think hard about this. You don’t want Simon getting involved with those madmen.”

Her words hit me in the gut, making me feel foolish, naïve, and more than a little guilty, not to mention selfish. “I hadn’t thought about that.” I drag my fingers through my hair with a groan. “What’s wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re only trying to find a way out of this mess. But marrying Simon is not the answer.”

The bell goes off for our next class, and I reluctantly get to my feet and head back inside. I feel terrible. I should know better. The roots of my family upbringing go deep. The specter of organized crime casts a very long shadow, and anything I touch can potentially fall under its insidious umbra, including the company I keep. How can I put Simon in that kind of risk?

Even now I feel as though I’m being watched, the hairs on my neck rising to attention. It’s at this moment that my decision becomes crystal clear. I can’t involve my friends. I have to find another way to escape my fate. One where the only thing that gets destroyed is my own dark heritage.

Chapter Eight

Ezio

I can still feel the blood on my hands, a telltale warming of the skin wherever blood has touched it. The sensation has intensified in recent weeks, and no amount of soap seems to wash it away. The job Stefano sent me on came to an especially bloody end, and not only cost me a full night’s sleep but soiled me in ways I can’t describe or explain. I feel unclean right down to my soul, the weight of two dead men dragging me closer and closer to the gates of hell.

The only bright spark illuminating the black miasma of my thoughts is the prospect of laying eyes on her again.

Nicoletta Graziano.

Until now, I’ve never thought much of names. They were only a set of words used to address an individual, but from the moment I saw her ID on the accident report, it became a beautiful symphony, rolling smoothly off my tongue, each time I mutter it. Putting a name behind the face makes me feel much closer to my goal.

Nicoletta Graziano.

Nicki.

My Nicki.

A deep background check showed nothing out of the ordinary. Like me, she’s the daughter of an Italian immigrant. Unlike me, she has been raised on the humble side of town with working class parents. I wonder how she’ll react tomybackground. Can she handle being with a man like me, a dark soul? A killer? Does she get off on danger, or will she run from it?

From me?

Flashbacks bring my thoughts to the night we met. That sassy, confident girl is not a runner. She’s too bold to walk away. In fact, I suspect she might see this as a challenge. I’m counting on that. I’m counting on her wanting me just as much.

The reverse is too much to think about.

I put the car in drive, wondering for the dozenth time if I’m doing the right thing. Not the fact that I’ve already claimed her in my head. Nothing has ever felt so right. But is it wrong to show up on campus, searching for the object of my affection? There’s nothing wrong with wanting to confirm she’s okay, is it?

Once again, I find myself trailing after the bits of information that I got from the report. Besides her date of birth, home district and the college she attends, I found nothing else useful, which leaves me cruising the college grounds, zeroing on every brunette that crosses my path. It would be sheer luck to spot her without knowing her class schedules, but I circle through every parking lot and vehicle lane accessible by car just the same.

It occurs to me that some of my associates are very skilled at data hacking; it shouldn’t be too hard for them to glean student records, timetables, and so forth. I shake my head and remind myself to take it slow. The last thing I want to do is draw unwanted attention to the girl. My family won’t know she exists until I make her mine.

Meanwhile, I drive slowly along a paved laneway that borders a treed lawn outside the Fine Arts building. Pedestrians stroll through its pathways, and clusters of students dot the grassy expanse. A large tree stands sentinel over the area, where figures lounge in its cool shade.

I make some adjustments to a special viewing screen set into the dashboard. From it, I control an exterior onboard cam that allows me to zoom in on any subject up to 100 feet away. I slow the car to a stop as I train the lens on the shaded area, homing in on the individuals seated there. A flash of red hair catches my eye, and as I zoom in closer, a girl sitting on the grass tosses her long red mane over one shoulder. My excitement accelerates as I realize it’s the Katie girl, and—I can hardly believe it—sitting next to her is my beautiful Nicki.

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