Page 92 of Highball and Chain

Shanna

A week ago,if anyone would have told me Nicolina Lazio would be wearing my clothes while sobbing against my shoulder, I would have thought they were insane. To say she wasn’t exactly the kind of person I normally befriended was like saying sharks and baby seals had minor differences in opinions.

“Thank you for interceding with Enzo. You’re the last person I thought would help me.” Nico blotted her eyes with a tissue.

No kidding. I handed her the box of Kleenex. “You being here is a strange twist of fate. I’ll give you that.”

“You have to understand. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” She bowed her head. “But my father…’

No way could I let her completely off the hook, not with Mr. Boogerre still missing or dead, but I could extend an olive branch for the sake of peace in the house. “I can’t forgive you or your family for everything you’ve done to me, but I’m willing to try to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

“Thank you.” Nico tilted her head as if confused. “I know it can’t be easy to be with Enzo when he doesn’t have control over his own future, but what was he talking about downstairs? What shooting and fire?”

Is she serious? “You know about the shooting in Ragusa. You were there when Gabe dragged everyone back to the villa.”

“My father said the Abruzzos were responsible for the warning shots.” Nico crumpled the mascara stained tissue. “Was he dishonest with me about that, too?”

“Maybe, but we should discuss this with the guys.” I moved to the chair beside the window so I could better gauge her reactions. Enzo had warned me not to jump to conclusions, but I wasn’t exactly making the leap alone. We both believed the Lazios were responsible. “What do you know about the armed men at Gabe’s wedding?”

“My father said the Abruzzos were responsible for that as well. Enzo said there was a fire?”

“My apartment was destroyed.” I hated how my voice quivered. “My cat was killed or ran away.”

Nico covered her mouth. “That’s horrific. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

I couldn’t trust her. Not yet. She seemed sincere, but it could have been an act. Without the benefit of makeup and designer clothes, she appeared younger, almost innocent. “Your family had nothing to do with it?”

“No!” She shook her head. “You have no reason to believe me after the way I’ve treated you, but my father would never do such a thing to a woman just because she was sleeping with his enemy.”

I squashed the instinct to defend my relationship with Enzo. It was none of her business, and I had more important things to focus on. “Your father considers Enzo an enemy?”

“The situation is complicated.” Nico dipped her chin.

“Complicated enough that your father had his restaurant trashed?”

“I don’t know.”

Sensing I wouldn’t get anything else out of her, I stood. “Let’s go downstairs. Enzo should be part of this conversation.”

“He won’t believe anything I have to say. He hates me now.” She sighed and walked to the door.

I didn’t know how to respond to her, so I kept my mouth shut. Since getting involved with the Marchionnis, my life felt like putting together a jigsaw puzzle without any of the straight-edge pieces. I had no framework, no guide, no freaking clue if the picture was a sunset or a battle scene. All I knew for certain was that most of the pieces were shades of red.

Following Nico down the back staircase to the kitchen, I struggled to keep my jealousy in check. Regardless of who’d invited her, she’d obviously spent a lot of time in the mansion.

Sitting beside the pool, Marco grinned and nodded toward us.

Enzo turned and winked at me before giving Nico a once over.

She must have caught him staring, because she folded her arms and hunched her shoulders. “I can’t remember the last time I left my room without makeup on.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re not going anywhere.” I hadn’t bothered with anything more than a swipe of mascara and lip gloss since the wedding. I couldn’t wrap my head around someone as beautiful as her needing war paint to face the world. Is it an Italian thing? A rich person thing? Or is she that insecure?

I stepped outside and breathed in the scent of grilled meat. “The steaks smell amazing.”

“Dinner’s almost ready. We’re waiting on the potatoes.” Enzo stood and embraced me so hard I could barely breathe.

I pulled back enough to meet his gaze and opened my mouth to ask what had happened. Before I formed the words, he frowned and shook his head a fraction of an inch.

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