I flick on the light and glance over my sanctuary. Everything is decorated in white and light blue. No spaces are cluttered. The only additions to the actual furniture are potted plants, lending a natural feel to the tranquil ambience.
I purchased the apartment and furnished it with the money I received from my share of the inheritance. I also paid for my studies with the money my father left for me.
Mom only pays for my monthly living expenses.
But what will happen once she’s married to Peter Stathoulis? Will he take control of her finances and use my monthly expenses as a way to control me?
God, what if Nikolas is given control over my expenses? Over my every move?
That would be a nightmare!
I need to find a job to make sure that doesn’t happen. As soon as possible.
The need to keep a tight control over my life has me darting away from the front door. I quickly change into a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, tie my hair back in a ponytail, then sit down on the plush couch with my laptop.
As I start creating a resume and search through the job listings, I find my equilibrium again.
Nikolas
It’s almost eleven p.m. when I walk into the private room at the high-end bar reserved for the meeting. It smells like leather, cigars, wealth, and power.
I notice Liam and Gabriel are already seated at the table. Liam’s the oldest of the group, where Gabriel’s the same age as me. Luca’s only five years my junior, and Viktor’s the youngest at twenty-five.
Not that age matters when it comes to power.
“Gentlemen,” I murmur as I take a seat. We’re all dressed in crisp Armani suits.
My greeting is returned with curt nods.
We might not be best friends, but there’s a vow of loyalty that makes us the most dangerous group of men on Earth. Fuck with one, and you have to face off with the Priesthood.
It makes us invincible.
We all took a blood oath when we were sworn in, and the only way out is death.
As a server comes to take my drink order, Luca and Viktor stride into the room with the potency of the entire Italian mafia and bratva in every single step.
No one says a word until we all have something to drink, and the server shuts the door behind him. Tension vibrates in the air.
As always, Luca takes a sip of his bourbon then makes eye contact with each of us before settling his gaze on me. “I hear you’re having trouble with the Sicilians.”
“They’re trying to move into my territory.” My eyes move to Liam. “Do you know anything about it?”
Liam takes a slow sip of his drink, his unwavering gaze locking with mine. “I’ve driven them out of my city.”
And now they’re my problem. Just fucking great.
“What can you tell me about them?”
“Antonio Manno’s the head,” Liam mutters, hatred for the scum brimming in his voice.
I already know that bit of info.
Luca settles comfortably back in his chair. “He’s not part of the Cosa Nostra.”
That’s good to hear.
“It’s taken me eight years to drive them out of Chicago.” Liam gives me a look of warning. “You better get rid of them before they set down roots.”
“I plan on doing that.”
Viktor, whose father is a custodian for the best assassin alive and previous head of the bratva, offers me a grin. “Just say if you need Manno eliminated.”
I need to take care of this problem on my own, or it will take a bite out of the power I hold in the Priesthood. You never let other men fight your battles for you. It’s the greatest show of weakness. I’ll only ask them to back me when there’s no other way.
“I’ll take care of the problem.”
Viktor nods then falls silent again as Luca proceeds with the meeting. We discuss incoming shipments and pending deals for the next two hours, and as the evening draws to a close, Luca grins at me. “Almost time for the wedding.”
Everyone at this table will be at the wedding. It will be a show of strength to our enemies. Hopefully, it will serve as encouragement for the Sicilians to not fuck with me.
“Yes. Less than two weeks.” Tess flashes through my thoughts, and I wonder how she handled the news.
She probably threw a fit.
I almost chuckle at the thought but catch myself in time.
“We’re looking forward to it,” Luca says, drawing my attention back to him. “I haven’t seen Peter in years.”
I had to up the security with the five families attending the wedding. If anything goes wrong, it will be my head on the chopping block.
“Send me a list of your security details so I can have them cleared,” I tell the group. “I want to know exactly who will be at the wedding.”
Each man nods. Viktor rises to his feet, effectively ending the meeting, and Luca follows.
Victor might be the youngest, but he sure as fuck is the most dangerous out of all of us. If the Sicilian problem gets out of hand, I might just have to hire him to take them out.
The thought doesn’t sit well with me as I get up and straighten my jacket.
The past two weeks have been a total whirlwind, arranging security for the wedding and killing the damn Sicilians whenever they dared to walk my streets. I have men stationed on the grounds, in the house, and scattered around the neighborhood.
Andreas is keeping an eye on everything, which gives me a sliver of peace of mind.
Dressed in a black tuxedo and with my Glock tucked safely behind my back, I make my way down the grand stairway to join the guests attending the wedding.
Flowers take up every available space, and soft instrumental music fills the air. Servers rush around like ants, and there’s a constant hum of voices blending with the background music.
When I step out onto the veranda, all eyes turn to me. Some are filled with reverence, others with poorly veiled hate. One thing every gaze holds? Some level of fear.
“Nikolas, so good to see you,” Spiros Doukas says, his voice overly friendly. Our family has done business together, and the man never stops groveling for another opportunity.
We shake hands, and before he can bring up a topic of conversation that will bore me to death, I walk away from him. I head toward the members of the Priesthood, who are gathered and watching the other guests as if they're in a den of vipers and not at a wedding.
Reaching them, I shake their hands and smile. “Thank you for coming.”
Liam lets out a low whistle as his gaze sweeps over the grounds, draped in white and yellow décor, a stupid amount of flowers, and the best linen. “This must’ve cost you a pretty penny.”
“You have no idea,” I sigh. Signaling a server closer, I order drinks for us. “You’d think with it being my father’s second wedding, they would’ve scaled down, but Helena’s a socialite.”
“Do you get along with your soon-to-be stepmother?” Gabriel asks. He’s not a people person at all, and it’s clear as day as he glares at the other guests.
“She’s good for my father.” Just then, my sister catches my eye. Athina steps out onto the veranda with Tess right behind her. When my sister spots me, she heads in my direction.
My gaze gets stuck on Tess, who’s turning heads with every step she takes closer to me. Noticing how much attention she’s getting, a frown forms on my forehead.
“Any of you looking for a bride?”
Luca’s eyebrow lifts. “Who are you trying to marry off?”
I nod in the direction of the women. “My stepsister. Theresa Dracatos.”
“The girl with Athina?” Liam asks.
Suddenly Viktor lets out a low chuckle. “If glares could kill, you’d be six feet under, Nikolas. I take it you don’t get along with her.”
Glancing back at the women, who are almost by us, it’s to find Tess’ eyes on me, the frown on her forehead doing nothing to diminish her beauty.
She’s probably still pissed off because of the changes being made to her life.
“Gentlemen.” Athina stops next to me, a perfect smile on her face.
TessaNikolas; 36. Tessa; 21.An armed guard opens the engraved wooden door, and with a curt nod, he steps to the side so I can enter the house. It’s only my second time visiting the Stathoulis’ home, so the place is still foreign and intimidating. I’ll never get used to all the guards littered over the property. A couple of weeks ago, my mother got engaged to the retired Godfather of the Greek mafia. We’re having our first family dinner tonight, and needless to say, I’m feeling anxious about meeting Nikolas and Athina, Peter’s children. The couple of times I’ve talked to Peter, it always ended with me fidgeting like a little girl. The man has a serious set of eyebrows that makes him look threatening and short-tempered. Even though he’s never been hostile toward me, it always feels like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Mom’s assured me he’s sweet and caring, and I have nothing to worry about. As much as I don’t like the idea of my mother marrying Peter Stathoulis, it’s her c
Then again, I should’ve made a run for it when Nikolas walked into the house covered in blood. Tonight is going to be torturously long, that’s for sure. Mom and Athina talk about the upcoming wedding while the harsh reality sinks in – there’s a real possibility Nikolas killed, or at the very least, tortured someone right before coming here. God, what was Mom thinking? Out of all the men she could’ve chosen, she had to pick the retired Godfather of the mafia. Honestly, although I grew up in the mafia, I don’t know much about it. Mom always sheltered me, especially after Dad passed away. Most of the things I’ve heard were from my friends at school who were mafia princesses and my hateful cousin, Irene, who swooned over the man every chance she got. Some of my friends were madly in love with Nikolas as well, but the rest feared him as if he were death itself. Not wanting to find out for myself what kind of man he is, I kept myself separate from the murky waters of the mafia.And I pl
NikolasRage still simmers in my veins from dealing with the Sicilian bastard who dared to sell heroin on my streets. Stupid fucker.Usually, I’d let my men deal with the scum, but I wanted to send a clear message of what will happen to the rest of the Sicilian mafia if they don’t get the fuck out of Vancouver.I down half the glass of champagne but the sweet bubbles only sour my mood further. My eyes flick to the server, who instantly scurries to my side. “Whiskey,” I order, and a minute later, the tumbler’s set down in front of me.After the burning liquid soothes my temper a little, I glance at the girl who’ll soon be my stepsister. The thought makes my lips curl in distaste. Theresa Drakatos. Her body is slightly turned away from me, not enough to draw attention, but enough to give me the cold shoulder. I know everything there is to know about her, seeing as she’ll be my problem soon enough. As the head of the family, Tess will be my responsibility. The lack of respect she sh
“You don’t agree?” I murmur softly so the others won’t hear.Tess visibly startles before her gaze snaps to my face. “I didn’t say anything.”The corner of my mouth lifts. “You didn’t have to. The expression on your face spoke volumes.”Even though fear for me dances in her irises, she frowns slightly. “You’re an expert at reading facial expressions?”“Yes.” It’s one of the things that makes me so damn good at my job. She rolls her eyes before focusing her attention on the baklava, making my right eyebrow lift dangerously. Leaning my head to the right, so I’m closer to her, I whisper, “Pas gyrévontas Gia mpeládes.”Her gaze slants toward me again, irritation making golden flecks spark to life in her irises. “My Greek is rusty. Care to translate?”The corner of my mouth lifts higher. “You’re looking for trouble.”Tess keeps eye contact for a moment longer before fear tightens her features. “Is this how things are going to be? You’re going to threaten me every chance you get?”This tim