voice thick with sleep, but his brain as sharp as ever.
“I didn’t expect to see a dead man’s name on my phone,” he says.
“You picked up to see what it’s like on the other side?”
He laughs. “Enlighten me.”
“You’d have to ask Jonas.”
“Ah,” he sighs. “His reign didn’t last long.”
“I’ve made peace with the Griffins and the Gallos.”
Kristoff chuckles softly.
“So little Nessa Griffin put the collar on your neck, instead.”
I won’t rise to the bait.
“Our agreement is off,” I tell him.
“An agreement by two can’t be broken by one,” Kristoff says.
“Do as you will,” I tell him. “Just know that the Griffins are expecting you. If you try to take Callum and Aida, you’ll be slaughtered.”
“We’ll see,” Kristoff says.
He hangs up the phone.
I look at the Gallo brothers.
“He’s a cocky little shit, isn’t he?” Nero says.
Dante scowls.
“I’ll be waiting at the library,” he says. “If Kristoff is stupid enough to pop up his head, I’ll blow it off his shoulders for him.”
30
Nessa
Mikolaj returns to my parents’ house in the early hours of the morning. He has a fresh slash down the right side of his cheek, and another on his arm. Dark stains on the front and back of his shirt show that his wounds have opened up again. I run out into the yard to meet him. He’s paler than I’ve ever seen him, and he almost falls into my arms.
“Oh my god!” I cry, holding his face in my hands. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“Yes,” he says. “I’m alright.”
I press my forehead against his, then I kiss him, assuring myself that he’s breathing still, that he smells and tastes the same as ever.
He wraps his arms around me, his heart beating against my chest. He nuzzles his face against my ear.
“Nessa!” My mother’s sharp cry interrupts us.
I let go of Mikolaj.
She’s standing in the doorway, staring at us with a horrified expression.
“Get in the house,” she hisses.
From long habits of obedience, I go back into the kitchen where my mother and father stand side by side, arms crossed over their chests, and forbidding expressions on their faces.
Mikolaj follows me in.
The Gallo brothers are with him, and Marcel as well.
As soon as Klara sees Marcel, she runs over to him. She kisses him, just as I did to Mikolaj. When Marcel gets over his surprise, he picks her up and kisses her harder, before setting her down again.
I’d like to celebrate that development, but unfortunately, I’ve got to turn my attention back to my furious parents.
“This is over,” my father says, sternly, pointing between Mikolaj and myself.
“Whatever you’ve done to her,” my mother shouts at Mikolaj, “However you’ve messed with her head—”
“I love him,” I say.
My parents stare at me, stunned and disgusted.
“That’s ridiculous,” my mother says. “He abducted you, Nessa. Kept you prisoner for weeks. Do you know what we went through, not knowing if you were alive or dead?”
She turns her tear-streaked face on Mikolaj, her blue eyes full of rage.
“You took our daughter from us,” she hisses. “I ought to have you castrated.”
“He saved my life,” I tell them. “They all wanted to kill me. The Russians, his own men . . . he risked everything for me.”
“Only because he stole you in the first place!” My mother cries.
“You don’t know men like this,” my father says to me. “Violent. Cruel. Killers.”
“Criminals?” I say, almost laughing at the irony. “Dad . . . I know what mafia men are like.”
“He’s not like us,” my father growls.
“You don’t know what he’s like!” I snap.
“Neither do you!” my mother cries. “He’s manipulated you Nessa. You’re a child! You don’t know what you’re saying—”
“I’m not a child!” I shout back at her. “Maybe I was when I left, but I’m not anymore.”
“Are you saying you want to be with this animal?” my father demands.
“Yes,” I say.
“Absolutely not!” he shouts. “I’ll kill him with my bare hands first.”
“It’s not your choice,” I tell them.
“The hell it’s not,” my father says.
“What, are you going to ground me?” I laugh, bitterly. “Unless you want to lock me up all over again, you can’t keep me away from him.”
“Nessa,” Mikolaj says. “Your parents are right.”
I whirl around, stricken and outraged.
“No they’re not!” I cry.
Mikolaj takes my hand, gently, to calm me. He squeezes my fingers, his hand as warm and strong as ever.
Then he faces my parents, composed and firm.
“I apologize for the pain I caused you,” he says. “I know this will be difficult for you to understand, but I love Nessa. I