King of Souls - L.A. Cotton Page 0,81

to find my cousins. They were already dressed, tucking into a stack of pancakes.

“Smells good,” I said to Matteo.

“Hey, what makes you think he cooked them?” Enzo asked, and I frowned at him.

“When was the last time you cooked?”

“I cook.”

“Dialing for pizza is not cooking.”

He flipped me off. “Where’s Arianne?”

“Sleeping.”

“Did you wear her out?”

“Watch it.” I jabbed my finger at him. “Any news?”

“Nothing to report,” Matteo said, passing me a plate.

“Perhaps you need to think about what your old man—”

“Not. Happening,” I growled.

“Okay, okay.” Enzo’s hands shot up. “Forget I said anything.”

“We wait and see what Tristan finds out before we make any decisions.”

“He needs putting down. He orchestrated the hit on Arianne when she was just a kid, Nicco. And then he let his son—”

“She’s not strong enough.” Arianne wasn’t ready to enter our world, not really. I wanted to shield her from it for as long as possible.

“You’re going to have to choose eventually.” Enzo let out an exasperated sigh.

“He’s right, Cous,” Matteo added. “You might have to make the decision for her.”

“I need more time. She needs more time.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing, man.” Enzo got up and stalked out of the cabin. It was becoming a regular pattern with us. But at least we weren’t solving our problems with fists these days.

“I know you want to do the right thing, but in our life, doing the right thing means something different in their world.” Matteo gave me a pointed look.

“Their world?”

“Arianne, Nora, even Roberto. They live by a different moral code to us. I know you know that.”

“I won’t give her up.”

I wouldn’t give her up for anything.

“I know. I’m not saying you have to let her go. I’m just saying that you might have to make the hard decisions to keep her conscience clean.”

I ran a hand down my face, letting out a strained breath. But Matteo wasn’t done.

“If he was here right now, if Fascini walked in here, what would you do?”

My eyes narrowed to slits, anger reverberating through me. “You know.”

“So, is Mike really any different? He wants to destroy us, Nic. He wants to take Capizola Holdings first and then come after us. He is the enemy.”

“You think I don’t know that?” I seethed, my fist clenched at my side. “It’s all I think about.”

It would be so easy to take them both out. We had several guys on the books who could do it. Hell, I could probably do it.

“We still don’t know if he has a backup plan.”

“Even if he does, it’s nothing we can’t find a way around. You’re stalling.”

He was right, I was stalling.

Because I wanted something better for Arianne. I wanted to be able to give her things, things I might not ever be able to provide.

“This is who you are, Nic. If she’s going to be with you, you both have to accept that.” Matteo clapped me on the back. “That girl loves you, more than she probably should. You’re Niccolò Marchetti, Prince of fucking Hearts. You don’t cower and you certainly don’t shy away from making the hard decisions.”

He left me with my thoughts.

I didn’t want to be Arianne’s prince. I wanted to be her king. The king of her heart.

The king of her soul.

But I was still holding back. I was trying to divide myself between Niccolò Marchetti, son of the boss, and Nicco Marchetti the guy in love with a girl.

Matteo and Enzo were right.

I couldn’t be both.

There was no escaping my fate.

And yet, I still wanted to protect her from the inevitable.

I spent the day agonizing over my father’s visit. He wanted to move against Mike sooner rather than later. But he knew what Arianne meant to me. He knew he risked losing me if anything was to happen to her.

But in the end, my torment was all for nothing.

Tristan arrived with news, and it wasn’t what we’d hoped to hear.

“Mike has given my father until the weekend to bring Arianne back.” He cast his bloodshot eyes to the quiet girl beside me. “I’m so sorry.”

“Or what?” Luis barked.

“Or he’s going to...” The color drained from Tristan’s face. “Kill Uncle Roberto.”

“What?” Arianne leaped up, her body trembling. “You’re lying... he can’t—”

“It’s true. Uncle Roberto insisted I didn’t tell you. But this isn’t a game. Mike Fascini isn’t playing around this time.”

I grabbed Arianne’s hand, gently coaxing her back down onto the couch. “How did he issue the threat?”

“There was a package. A letter and...” He ran a hand through his

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