Chapter 83: Going Out
Carmen
"Someone has my boy..."
I fixed my eyes firmly on her, because I knew better than to trust a single word that came out of her mouth. Bianca was many things—ruthless, calculating, patient—but never careless with her emotions. Yet one look at her face was more than enough to tell me she meant it. The slight tremor in her voice, the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers curled like she wanted to claw something apart—it was real.
Her younger son, Kade, was missing. There was no way it was Nico.
Slowly, I pulled away from the door and stepped back into the room. My heels clicked softly against the polished floor as I moved toward her, taking measured, careful steps until I stood right in front of her. She lifted her gaze to meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.
I could have asked if she knew who took him, or what she had done so far to get him back. I could have pretended to care. But the truth was, I didn’t.
"You want a truce?" I asked, my voice calm, almost detached. "What do I get in exchange?"
Yes, it benefited me. Of course it did. But why shouldn’t I push her while she was down? She would do the same to me without hesitation. Bianca wasn’t the type to forget debts—or forgive them. She still had her talons sunk deep into parts of the Northern Territory, especially the section I was yet to legally secure. I knew her well enough to understand that the moment she felt untouchable again, she would come for me.
"Aren’t you looking for a lead to whoever is trying to kill the mafia dons and take over the territories?" she shot back.
Without waiting for my response, she turned sharply and walked toward the large mahogany table at the center of the room. The faint scent of expensive polish lingered in the air as she pulled open one of the drawers. After a brief search, she retrieved a folded letter and shut the drawer with a quiet but deliberate push.
When she returned, her gaze was fierce, unwavering. She placed the letter in my outstretched hand. I unfolded it, my eyes scanning the contents as she spoke.
"It came delivered with the head of my son’s friend," she said.
The words landed heavier than I expected. My heart gave a small, involuntary thump before tightening painfully in my chest.
Had we really reached that point?
I had seen brutality before—lived in it, even—but there was something different about this. A shift. A message. Once people started sending severed heads as warnings, it was only a matter of time before paper and ink were abandoned altogether in favor of flesh and blood.
"The King..." I muttered under my breath, reading the signature again.
Whoever they were, they were bold.
"Clearly, they’ve kidnapped my son," Bianca continued, her tone steady despite everything. "Getting him back would also lead us straight to them."
Us.
I read the letter again, slower this time, committing every word to memory. The phrasing, the threats, the arrogance—it all pointed to someone who wanted to be seen, someone who wanted to dominate.
"You’re not worried that he might already be dead?" I asked bluntly.
Her eyes met mine instantly. She didn’t flinch. Not even slightly.
"Then at least I’ll have revenge," she replied.
And I believed her. Bianca wasn’t bluffing. If Kade was dead, she would tear the world apart piece by piece until she found everyone responsible. And when she did, there would be nothing left of them but echoes.
Still, doubt lingered in my mind.
What if this was a trap? What if she had decided to collaborate with this so-called King? It wasn’t impossible. Bianca had always been pragmatic. If aligning with a new power ensured her survival—or her dominance—she might take it.
"Why not ask Nico?" I said, folding the letter carefully before handing it back. "He’d want to find his brother, wouldn’t he?"
She shook her head immediately.
"Let’s just say Nico and I have an... agreement," she replied. "And a grudge he refuses to let go of."
That, I didn’t question. Nico held onto grudges like they were priceless heirlooms.
"Still, I’ll have to speak to him," I said, turning toward the door. "Truce."
The word felt strange on my tongue, but necessary.
I stepped out before she could respond, the heavy door closing behind me with a soft thud. Outside, the air felt cooler, cleaner. I inhaled deeply as I made my way to the car, where my bodyguards were already waiting.
The ride back to the estate was quiet, but my mind wasn’t.
Before we entered the gates, I made sure everything was clear. The last thing I needed was to be blown to bits because I had gotten careless. Once satisfied, we drove in.
It didn’t take long to reach Nico’s estate. I headed straight inside, expecting to find him in his study.
He wasn’t there.
A quick inquiry from one of the staff led me elsewhere—to the home theater.
I paused briefly outside the door before pushing it open.
And there he was.
Nico sat sprawled comfortably in one of the plush seats, a large bowl of popcorn balanced on his lap, his attention fixed entirely on the massive screen in front of him. The dim lighting cast soft shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw.
He glanced at me briefly, then back at the screen as if I were nothing more than a passing distraction.
I walked in quietly and took the seat beside him.
"Bianca offered a truce, she wants—"
"I knew the moment her son went missing," he interrupted, not even looking at me. "The way she started making noise about it? Predictable."
He tossed a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth.
"If it were up to me, we’d ignore her completely. Her son dies, she blames our enemy, and suddenly she’s not our problem anymore."
I stared at him, momentarily stunned.
The movie playing was a romance.
Of all things.
"You didn’t do it, did you?" I asked carefully.
He finally turned his head, one brow lifting slightly.
"Thanks for the compliment," he said dryly. "But if I wanted to hurt Bianca, I wouldn’t go through Kade. She loves him, sure—but not as much as she loves power."
I leaned back slightly, reaching into his bowl and stealing a few pieces of popcorn. As I brought them to my lips, I felt his gaze shift.
It dropped to my mouth.
I pretended not to notice.
"I’ve already sent people out," I continued. "Tracking his movements, possible locations—everywhere he could be. If we find him first, she owes us."
That kind of debt mattered.
"The last thing we need is her siding with whoever is targeting us," I added.
Nico shook his head, eyes returning to the screen.
"She won’t," he said with quiet certainty. "She knows better."
I wasn’t so sure.
The movie turned out to be surprisingly good.
I tried—really tried—not to think about the fact that Nico and I had been tangled up together more than once. But every kiss on screen made it harder. Every lingering touch, every soft breath—it all pulled at memories I didn’t want to dwell on.
I glanced at him once.
He smiled faintly, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.
When the movie finally ended, I stood, ready to leave.
But Nico reached out and caught my wrist.
I expected him to pull me down forcefully like he usually did.
Instead, he tapped his thigh.
"Sit."
I frowned. "Really?"
He only shrugged.
With a small sigh, I moved to sit beside him—but before I could settle, he lifted me effortlessly, guiding me onto his lap so I was straddling him.
My breath hitched slightly.
His hands slid to my waist, firm but not rough, holding me in place. My back straightened instinctively, my hands resting against his chest.
I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my palms.
And mine?
Mine was anything but steady.
It worried me—how much I wanted to close the distance between us. How easy it would be to lean in and kiss him.
I reminded myself why that was a bad idea.
"Are you free?" he asked.
I narrowed my eyes immediately.
"I’m not having sex with you," I said flatly. "We’ve done enough."
I could feel the faint tension in his body, and it didn’t help my racing pulse.
He shook his head.
"We’ll do that later," he said casually. "I want to show you something."
That only made me more suspicious.
"What is it?" I asked.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"You’ll see." He said allowing me to get off his laps before he also got up from his seat.
Only to follow behind him as he led straight to the entrance of the mansion and not his room where I expected us to go.
Clearly we were going out which was fine as long as it wasn’t to see a locked up boy in a locked up room.
