Page 119 of Stricken

NICO

I adjust the stiff collar of the uniform I'm wearing as part of my cover. The fabric chafes against my neck as I shift uncomfortably in the van's cramped interior. A bead of sweat trickles down my spine despite the chill in the air. The storm outside is raging, rain battering against the vehicle with extra force. My heart pounds an erratic staccato beat, each thud reverberating through my chest and across my ribs. Like a warning.

Careful, Nicola.

Don't bite more than you can chew.

Around me, the Hellhounds sit silent and still, figures carved from obscurity. Hector's scarred knuckles flex. Marco's jaw clenches. Their presence both reassures and unsettles me. This alliance is forged out of necessity. Not loyalty. What if one of these men betrays me?

The doubt is real.

I meet Vlad's gray eyes across the darkened space. He wears an electrician's uniform like a second skin, but I see through the innocuous disguise to the vulture lurking beneath. A current of understanding passes between us, sharp and electric. No words are needed. Just a shared glance that says:We're in this together. Until the bitter end.

"ETA two minutes," Seven calls from the driver's seat in a gravelly voice.

My stomach churns, acid rising in my throat. I swallow it down. Apprehension coils around my neck like a noose, tightening with each second that brings us closer to the point of no return.

"We do it simple," Vlad says, his accented baritone steady and sure. "Get in. Get Tony. Get out. No distractions."

"I'm certain Salvatore will be with him," I supply.

Vlad's lips curve into a humorless smile, a glint of something lethal in his eyes. "Then we improvise."

The van slows as the imposing gates of the Morelli estate emerge ahead. My heart beats even faster. My mind is in overdrive. Adrenaline has taken over. I grew up in this place. Now, I'm shunned, forbidden to enter it. All because of choosing to be myself.

How cruel of you, Uncle.

Still, I can't let this pig Salvatore take your life.

I lean forward, my fingers gripping the edge of the seat, as Seven guides the van toward the gate. The mocking wrought-iron bars is a physical barrier that represents the challenges we're about to face. Beyond them, at the end of the long driveway and hidden within the garden, the sprawling mansion awaits.

My mind races. Potential scenarios of what could happen unfold like a twisted choose-your-own-adventure novel. What if we're too late? What if Salvatore has already made his move? The possibilities are endless, each one more terrifying than the last.

"Nico." Vlad's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. "Focus on the present. We'll deal with whatever comes as it comes."

I nod, taking a deep breath to center myself. He's right. I can't let my fears and my imagination bother me. We are here to ensure Tony stays alive. And that's what we'll do.

As we approach the gate, I catch a glimpse of Seven's profile from my spot in the back as he turns his head to greet whomever is outside.

I close my eyes for a moment, asking the higher power to wish me luck. No, wishusluck. We're all in this together because of me. In this instant, we are one. United by a common purpose, bound by the knowledge that failure is not an option.

The van rolls to a stop.

"Showtime," Vlad murmurs.

I open my eyes, meeting his stare as he leans forward to hide away from the view of the person at the gate.

The window slides down and the smell and sound of rain rush inside.

"Hey buddy, someone placed a repair call earlier," Seven says, his voice even and assured. "Here to fix the electrical issues."

"About damn time. We've been without power all morning," a man at the gate says.

I can't see him. I'm nearly folded in half trying to lower myself to the floor to ensure my face isn't noticed. I feel Vlad's presence somewhere beside me. He's a reassuring strength that tethers me to reality. I don't know if I would be okay without him.

"We'll get it sorted out," Seven promises, his tone soothing, almost hypnotic. "It's the storm. Half the city is without power right now."

"My bosses don't care about the city, man." The gatekeeper chuckles, loosening up a bit judging by his tone. "If you know what I mean."

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