Villain of Secrets (Verona Legacy #3) - L.A. Cotton Page 0,6

ever wish for and I love you more than anything. Except Nicco (he made me type that).

I chuckled, scrolling down the message.

New York is amazing. We have to come one time. Just the two of us. I’ll see you when we get back to Verona. Nicco says hi. xo

Smiling, I texted her back.

Enjoy your last couple of days. You deserve it, Ari. xo

After the shitshow that was our first semester at college, my best friend deserved all her dreams to come true. It was hard to believe that she was married to Niccolò Marchetti, son of mafia boss Antonio Marchetti. But having witnessed them fall headfirst in love with one another, who was I to judge?

They were young, yes. But when you knew, you knew. Besides, they had that written-in-the-stars thing working for them.

My heart cinched, but I shook it off, pushing my feet into my fluffy, pink slippers.

“Nora, cucci—”

“I’m coming, Mom,” I yelled. Grabbing my Montague University hoodie, I slipped it on and followed the smell of pancakes down the stairs.

“Happy New Year, baby,” she sing-songed as I entered the room.

“Happy New Year, Mom.” I helped myself to coffee before perching on a stool at the breakfast counter. “Something smells good.”

She grinned. “It’s almost done.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“You know your father, Nora, he’s out jogging.”

My mother and father worked for Arianne’s parents, Roberto and Gabriella Capizola, they had for my entire life. We lived on their estate in a separate cottage nestled on the west perimeter. It was modest, but it had the best views of the Blackstone River. I’d grown up here, exploring the grounds, playing with my brother Gio, Ari, and her older cousin Tristan. But as I got older, I dreamed of more. Of life beyond the gated perimeter and guards posted on every way in and out.

“When are you headed back?” Mom placed a stack of pancakes in front of me. I added a handful of blueberries and a drizzle of syrup and dived in.

“I was thinking I might head back later.”

Her brows knitted. “I’m not sure I like the idea of you staying there all alone now Ari is—”

“Ari is married, Mom. Married. Of course she’s going to live with Nicco. I’m safe, I promise. La Stella is one of Roberto’s buildings. It has excellent security and Maurice is still around.”

He wasn’t, not really.

But she didn’t need to know that.

I didn’t need close protection now. The threat to the Marchetti, to Arianne, was gone. But Maurice, my assigned bodyguard, did show up now and again to check in. I think it was Arianne’s way of letting me know she still cared.

I knew she did. But she was married. Freakin’ married. Our friendship was going to change whether we wanted it to or not.

“What’s the matter with your pancakes, cucciola?”

“They’re great, Mama, I’m just…” I swallowed the words. It was New Year’s Day. I didn’t want to be all mopey on the first day of a brand new year.

Giving my head a little shake, I inhaled a deep breath and forked another piece of pancake into my mouth. So what if Arianne no longer lived in our apartment and was married? It didn’t mean life was over. She was still going to attend classes at MU. We’d still see each other all the time.

“Love changes people,” my mom whispered.

My eyes slid to hers, and a weak smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

Oh, Mama, you don’t know the half of it.

I didn’t hang around at the cottage. After eating my mom’s famous risotto with my parents, Maurice gave me a ride back to University Hill.

“I’ll do a quick sweep,” he said, producing his key.

“You still have that?” My brow lifted, and he chuckled.

“I’ll just be a second.” Hand secured on his gun holster, he slipped inside.

I wasn’t even a little bit worried.

The bad guys were gone, and everything was fine. But as I waited for Maurice to do his thing, a shudder ran down my spine as the memories tried to push themselves to the surface.

Less than two months ago, I’d been kidnapped and used as bait to lure Nicco and Arianne to their bloody end. Nicco had been shot, and my best friend had stabbed Scott Fascini, the guy working with his father to bring down the Marchetti with a knife until the life drained from his eyes.

He was gone, and his father was locked away with no chance of parole for a long time.

Nicco and Ari were safe.

I was safe.

Everything was—

“All clear.” Maurice yanked

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