“No, it’s not,” she says, reaching into her purse for a tissue. She dabs at my wet cheeks, the same way she’s done all my life. “If she were here, she would scold you for blaming yourself for something you had no control over. Your mother loved your brothers dearly, but she always wanted a daughter. You’re not cursed,cara.You were her little miracle.” Silvia disposes of the tissue and grabs another. “But that’s not what upset you tonight, is it?”
I shake my head. “Nico—”
“Of course. The boy who used to turn you as red as a rose every time he said your name.”
“It’s so unfair, Silvia.”
“I know, sweet girl,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I understand first love. I know he’s yours, and it hurts that you’re not his. That’s allowed.” She takes my hands and makes me look at her. “First love almost always doesn’t work out. You’re still young. Twenty and still in college. You’ll meet someone else. Fall in love again. Someday,Niccolò Benito will be nothing more than a fond memory.”
I don’t believe her. Not even a little. But I force myself to nod because I need something to hold onto right now.
Somehow, I have to get over Nico and move on with my life. Soon, I’ll be a senior. I have a senior capstone project to plan, a career to build, and a gallery to open someday. My art, my future—I should focus on those things that are mine.
Anything but Nico.
I’m not sure I can erase him, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try my best.
Chapter One
Two Years Later
Nico
I’ve never done well with hindsight questions. Saw it as a flaw when people obsessed over the past and what they could have done better. The past can never be changed, and it’s a waste of time to obsess over something you cannot change. But lately, I’ve been thinking about it.
Thinking about the what-ifs of life and how events would have played out if things were different.
How much less conflicted I would feel if my mother had never met Leonardo Rossi. If she’d never allowed Leonardo to hold my father’s estate in trust—if my father’sproperties had never passed into the hands of Leonardo Rossi and, later, his oldest son, Matteo. If that had never happened, then my older brother wouldn’t have let his resentment push him past the point of reason, pushing him into kidnapping Matteo’s wife in an act of vengeance. If I hadn’t been tasked with punishing my own brother for kidnapping Sofia, then my loyalty to the Rossis wouldn’t have been tested in the cruelest of ways.
And if I had never met any of the Rossis, befriended them and somehow become a part of the family, then I wouldn’t have been forced to pretend that I didn’t want Gabriella Rossi the way I do. The most precious and forbidden fruit.
But I did.
I met and befriended Matteo Rossi. Through our fathers’ long friendship, I became a part of the Rossi tribe even beforeour parents—my mother and his father—married each other. I was adopted into the family and I knew the connections would stay forever. I was certain nothing would ever make me betray the Rossis until four years ago when Gabriella Rossi wrecked that certainty. College changed her, and she was no longer the shy little girl who hung around her brothers. She was older, mature, and so goddamned sexy. I had no right looking at her that way.
I was older, for Christ’s sake, and her brother’s best friend. Living and working with the Rossis taught me what happens when someone crosses the line. Hell, I’ve helped them bury the bodies! I knew what would happen to me if I touched her.
So I tried to hide my attraction for the beautiful mob princess with eyes the color of rich, melted chocolate. Figured that if I called her my little sister enough times then I would start to believe it too.
It didn’t work.
Two years after our parents tied the knot, and I still want her. So much so that I couldn’t stay away even when I should have. I told myself I didn’t need to attend Gabriella’s exhibition alongside her brothers because, well, she’s never acknowledged me as one of her brothers anyway. It wouldn’t have mattered whether or not I showed up.
But I couldn’t stay away.
“You made it,” A hand claps over my shoulder before Matteo steps next to me, his dark eyes moving across the room and I imagine he’s looking for his sister. “Little Gabby is graduating from college. How the fuck did that happen?”
“She grew up.”
“That she did,” he says, and I hear the emotions thicken his voice. Matteo isn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve and is quite a hard man to read, but his little sister has always been his weak spot. I was there when Antonia Rossi died. The entire family threatened to fall apart, and Matteo, barely a teen at the time, was forced to be strong for the rest of his family. Gabriella is closer to being his daughter than she is his sister. He helped raise her, doted on her endlessly. It makes sense that even a hard man like Matteo can show cracks in the presence of his sister’s milestone.
“There she is,” he says fondly, and I follow his line of sight to Gabriella. She’s standing by a painting, surrounded by her classmates as she chats with them—stunning with her wavy, thick dark brown hair falling around her shoulders like a waterfall. I force my gaze away when my eyes threaten to slide down her body and over the tiny black dress she chose to wear today. Fuck, if I didn’t know any better, I would think she did it on purpose to torture me, but I do know better.
“She seems busy. Why don’t we go look at her paintings first and let her finish chatting with her friends?” I suggest, in an attempt to distract myself from her and just how much I want her.
“No, the paintings will have to wait. I need to see my baby sister,” he insists, and I start to offer to accompany him, but I’m not quite ready to see Gabriella. Who the fuck knows what I’ll do or say once those pretty brown eyes lock with mine. I haven’t seen her for weeks, and my defenses are lower than they normally are.
No, I’m not taking any fucking chances.