Page 73 of Texting the CEO's Obsession
“Too fucking bad, it needs to be.” Bruno stares me down, angry and itching for a fight, but he hasn’t truly scared me for a long time. “Family comes first. Unless you don’tcareabout your family anymore.”
I laugh, scalding and bitter, and the realization hits me that Bruno isn’t the man I used to know anymore. He’s not the brother I grew up with; he’s just a desperate man trying to get everything he wants, no matter what he ruins in the process.
“Fuck off,” I say sharply, shaking my head at him in disgust. “I love my family. I always will. That doesn’t mean I’m going to throw away my life just to make your job easier. If you really needed me, Ma would know, andshe’dtell me to come back. Until then, I’m going to keep living my life.”
Bruno’s answering laugh is razor sharp and full of hate, dark eyes hollow as he stares straight through me.
“Yourlife,” he spits, “is fuckingpathetic. That girl is going to get you in trouble, and you know it.”
“Riley’s none of your business,” I bite back. “She’smine. You know the rules. Follow them.”
There’s an undying rule in our family. We don’t retaliate against each other or anyone we claim as our own. If the rule is broken, there are consequences.
“I’m not the only one who doesn’t like how much time you’re spending up her skirt.” He glares at me, the edge of a genuine threat shining in his eyes. “Get rid of her before something unfortunate happens.”
My vision goes red at the threat, tension filling me down to my core.
I’m not about to let anyone—family or not—talk about my girl like that.
And he crossed the line for the last time.
CHAPTER 22
RILEY
If I thought Lucy D’Amico was intimidatingbeforeI walked into the parlor with her, I don’t have words to describe her now.
She poured me a glass of lovely white wine and sipped at her own while giving me blunt, detailed answers to every question I asked. Even when I cringed away from the answers, she kept talking. I could do nothing but listen. She told me the things Nick used to do, back when he was an enforcer alongside Bruno, the blood he has on his hands. Her gaze was unwavering as she described things that, in turn, made me question how the Nick I know could possibly be the same person.
We’ve been sitting in silence for a few minutes now, my well of curiosity good and dry, my head spinning in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol I’ve had tonight.
I knew Nick had connections.
He’s a billionaire, for fuck’s sake. He’s CEO of the largest private stock trading and investment firm in the entire country.Obviouslyhe has connections.
I just thought they were, like,moneyconnections.
It didn’t cross my mind that he could havemafiaconnections.
But Lucy has no reason to lie to me—hell, even if she did, I don’t think anyone who’s not actually involved in that sort of thing could come up with half the stuff she told me about Nick’s life. It’s… it should be terrifying. Itisterrifying, but it also doesn’t feel quite real. It’s like looking at a car crash in a photo. Real and scary and painful, but not happening to me. I let out a shaky breath and bring my wine glass up to my lips, taking slow, measured sips.
“You’re taking this better than expected,” Lucy muses, running one manicured nail over the rim of her own glass.
I laugh awkwardly, having absolutely no idea what to say in response. She’s so polished and put together, unshakeably confident, whereas I feel so out of place it aches. Does Nick expect me to have a backbone like her someday?
Even a miracle couldn’t make that happen. She’s a different breed.
“So. You know now.” She sets her glass down and leans back in her chair, eyes laser-focused on my face, watching for every micro-expression. “What are your plans with Nicky, now that you do?”
A million different answers race through my mind; platitudes and uncertainty and empty promises all falling flat. I take a deep breath, realizing that my only option is to be honest. She gave me the truth to my questions.
I should offer her the same in return.
“I can’t imagine a life without Nick anymore,” I say, my voice quiet in the lavish sitting room. “Even with all of this. He—I’ve never cared about anyone the way I care about him. I don’twantto care about anyone else like this.”
Lucy hums, sounding pleased with my answer, and I drop my eyes to the richly patterned rug beneath my feet, scratching my nails lightly against the damask fabric of the couch before continuing.
“I think I love him.”
