Page 82 of Pietro
I hear rustling as she digs through the bag, the soft sound of fabric sliding over skin. I keep my eyes fixed on the windshield, fighting the urge to look at her.
"I didn't betray you," she says quietly as she dresses. "I never gave my father any information about your shipments or your business."
I don't respond. I can't. Because right now, I don't know what to believe.
I pull into the warehouse lot. The massive structure looms ahead, windows blacked out, security cameras tracking our arrival. This place has seen more blood than most battlefields, and tonight might add more to its tally.
Nora sits beside me, dressed now in jeans and a simple t-shirt, her damp hair hanging around her shoulders.
"Get out," I order, killing the engine.
She complies without argument, which only pisses me off more. I want her to fight, to give me a reason to unleash the rage burning through my veins.
I grab her arm, my fingers digging into her skin as I march her toward the entrance. The metal door slides open.
Inside, the warehouse stretches out in shadowy vastness. Shipping containers line the walls, stacked three high in some places. The overhead lights cast harsh pools of brightness, leaving the spaces between in darkness.
Nico and Lorenzo stand in the center of the room, both turning as we enter. Lorenzo's face is grim, but Nico's eyes burn with the same fury I feel coursing through me.
"You actually brought her here?" Nico spits, stalking toward us. He pulls his gun, pointing it directly at Nora's head. "After what she did?"
"Touch her and I'll kill you," I say, my voice deadly calm as I take my gun and point it at him.
Nico freezes, his eyes widening in disbelief. Slowly, he turns the gun away from Nora and points it at me instead.
"You've lost your fucking mind," he says, his voice shaking with rage. "Because of what? A woman? Connor O'Sullivan's daughter?"
Lorenzo steps between us, his hands raised. "Enough! Both of you, put the guns down."
Neither of us moves. My finger hovers over the trigger, and I see the same murderous intent in Nico's eyes.
"Pietro," Lorenzo says."What does this even mean? She is Connor's fucking daughter. The man who's been hitting our shipments for months."
Nora opens her mouth to speak, but Nico whips toward her.
"Shut the fuck up," he snarls. "Not another word from you."
My hand twitches with the urge to smash my fist into my little brother's face. The only thing stopping me is Lorenzo standing between us, his calm presence the only thing preventing this warehouse from becoming a bloodbath.
"Put the gun down, Nico," I order, my voice hard as steel.
"Why? So you can keep protecting her?" Nico's face contorts with disgust. "She's been playing you from the start. How can you not see that?"
"I said put it down." Each word drops like a stone.
Lorenzo places a hand on Nico's arm. "We need to talk this through. All of us."
For a moment, I think Nico might pull the trigger anyway. Then, with a curse, he lowers the gun.
"This is a mistake," he mutters, stepping back.
I keep my eyes on him as I holster my own weapon, not trusting him to stay calm. The tension in the room is thick enough to choke on.
"Finn O'Sullivan is calling in an hour," I say, my voice controlled despite the storm raging inside me. "Until then, nobody touches her."
"Who the fuck is Finn?" Nico demands, his face twisted with confusion and rage.
Lorenzo, the always diplomatic brother stepping into his natural role. "Finn O'Sullivan. Connor's younger brother. He left the mob years ago—walked away from everything. There were rumors he'd been killed for desertion, but apparently not."
