Page 6 of Nico (Belles & Mobsters 2)

Painfully aware of the man’s presence behind me, my heart thundered wildly in a combination of fear and… excitement? No; it couldn’t be. It must be all fear, messing around with my brain and my sanity.

Right before William’s death, John warned me not to go around the Morrelli’s, saying they were bad news. There was so much bad news in my life, I didn’t really need any more.

Although, I had to scoff at my best friend’s advice. If he knew the Morrellis were bad news, why would he and William do any business with them. Yes, we were desperate, but so much so we wished for death? And dealing with the mafia always ended in death.

I glanced at Angie and she seemed to be gushing over Nico Morrelli, peeking at him under her lashes, trying to show him she was interested. Even a blind person wouldn’t have missed those signs. To her, he filled her checkboxes. He was filthy rich, powerful, and handsome. She just had to add one more box - dangerous.

Nervously, I threw a glance his way. He was older than I expected, maybe in his forties, and there was something about him that was elusive. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Yes, the Morrelli famiglia ruled the underworld of Maryland and D.C. for a few generations, but there was a ruthless edge about Nico Morrelli that screamed he earned it and squashed a few people on his way to the top. Maybe even more than just a few!

I had no basis for it, but I’d stake my life that my gut feeling was spot on. It usually was. It was what warned me that something went on with my husband before I ever realized what he had gotten himself into.

“Here you go.” The waiter’s voice startled me. He changed his rude behavior towards me immediately, just because I was in this man’s company. It was beyond fake. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

He was asking me, but the question was directed to the man I was painfully aware standing behind me. I shook my head just the same. The sooner this waiter left, the sooner I could put distance between Nico Morrelli and me.

My eyes shifted across the restaurant, and I noted we had the best table here with the view of the Washington Monument wide open in front of us. While other tables were crammed closer together to fill this place to its capacity, this one was away from them all, affording it privacy. Of course, it would be expected that Nico Morrelli would get the best of everything.

There was another gentleman already seated at the table, waiting for us. I couldn’t help but groan inwardly. These men were exactly what Angie loved. Handsome, rich, clearly established, and powerful. Was this man a criminal too? From the two, Nico Morrelli gave off the vibe of dominance and power, accustomed to getting his way. The other one, not so much.

My first outing since my husband’s death and this freaking happens. I would be stuck in an uncomfortable situation with a guy that sent fearful shivers down my back and another that leered at me like I was on display. No wonder I decided to be a hermit. After today, I was reverting back to avoiding everyone.

“Hello.” Angie now batted her lashes at Mr. Morrelli’s friend, and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. He seemed younger but nowhere nearly as attractive. Not that either one of the men’s attractiveness mattered to me. He stood up immediately, his eyes darting to me then his friend behind me.

“Hello, Gabito,” Mr. Morrelli spoke up behind me. “I hope you don’t mind these lovely ladies joining us.”

Ugh, I minded.I bit my tongue to hold the words back. I wanted to leave,now.

“Of course not, Dominico,” Gabito responded and his eyes traveled from his friend to me. FuckingDominico Morrelli!So much forno chance in hellor a coincidence. “And you are?” he asked, curiosity in his eyes as he watched me.

Clearing my throat uncomfortably, I rasped out my answer. “Bianca.”

I purposely withheld my last name. My heart raced, beating hard against my ribs, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I pushed my hair out of my face nervously, my hands visibly trembling. I shouldn’t have come. I should have remained stuck in my little routine. Then I wouldn’t have run into Dominico Morrelli.

A true terror rushed through my veins; my pulse throbbing with adrenaline.

Calm down. Inhale and exhale. Calm down.

I kept trying to pep talk myself. Nobody knew what happened. Nobody came searching for that money. Nobody but the three of us knew what we had done, and one was dead. I trusted John explicitly, so that meant our secret was safe.

No, not just the three of us. Whoever lost that bag knew it too.

John gave his portion of thestolenmoney to William. I guess he hoped it would buy him the cure, just as I did. We were both stupid. The doctors kept saying there was no saving him, but I refused to believe it. But none of that would matter to the mafia. They would kill John knowing he didn’t keep a dime of that money.

But Morrelli’s men never came looking for it; I justified it to myself. Maybe they had so many money bags, they never even missed it. Shit, dealing with these consequences might just result in a heart attack.

Shifting my eyes around, I realized again I stuck out like a sore thumb, evidence that I did not belong here. Angie stood out in a good way; I stood out in the worst way. She already sat herself at the table, and I could have just strangled her for being so inconsiderate at this moment. Or for picking the place where mobsters came to eat.

I stood there debating if I should just say to hell with it and turn around to leave. Or would that bring unwanted attention to myself? These paranoid thoughts were never part of me until William got involved with the mafia. Even after I learned the big secret my mother harbored, I felt sure it would never be exposed. Because it was successfully kept for twenty-five years. But stealing money from the mafia was something entirely different.

A man’s hand on my lower back gently nudged me forward, causing me to jump at the searing touch and shockwaves detonating through my body. I whipped my head back, meeting the gray eyes that scared the shit out of me.

“I apologize,” his deep voice seeped through every pore as he removed his hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s fine,” I murmured in a raspy voice, fascinated and scared by the depth of his eyes. Today was the first time I had been touched by a man since the death of my husband. By Nico Morrelli. And his touch… it was burning hot, and even now that his hand was no longer on me, I could still feel the searing sensation where it had laid. It wasn’t really what I expected.

Oh, this is bad!My panicked state of mind warned me while my body craved another taste of his touch.

What. The. Hell?

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