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“That’s right. Do you have a snail?”
“A snail?”
“Matty likes snails.”
“I’m sure we can special order one.”
“I look forward to receiving it.”
It was over. Darla, Viktoria—although Nico was certain neither of those was her real name—had flitted into his life and fixed all his problems. He wanted to kiss her damn feet, but she’d probably kick him in the teeth. Once again, Nico took a seat at the breakfast table where Matty was stuffing pieces of banana into his mouth with his fingers. The boy still called him Dada, and Nico intended to live up to the name in every way possible.
He wanted to watch Matty become a man. He wanted to grow old with Kaylin, and he realised how very lucky he was to have the opportunity. Officer Mike Downie wouldn’t see his kids turn into adults. He wouldn’t teach his son to drive or walk his daughter down the aisle. Nico had ensured that both of the Downie children had healthy college funds, but it seemed so little compared with the loss of their father.
Cricket trotted into the kitchen, a squeaky toy in his mouth. According to Kaylin, the little pipsqueak had hated both Cesare and Alonzo with a passion, which only went to show that dogs were excellent judges of character. Maybe they’d take a trip to New York someday so he could piss on the walls of the Cavallaro family’s mausoleum? The dog, not Nico, although he might be tempted if there were no security cameras around. It was nothing less than those monsters deserved.
“Who’s a good boy?” Nico broke off a crust of Matty’s abandoned toast and offered it to the dog. “You’re a good boy.”
Dogs were family too.
* * *
It was a night to celebrate. Kaylin had agreed that there was no need to move overseas now that the most problematic of the Cavallaros were out of the picture, Addy had been released from the hospital, and Aaron and Luca had thawed enough to invite Nico and his family over for dinner at Deals on Wheels again.
There was more to the Cavallaro story, but Kaylin didn’t need to know that. Nico had called in a few old favours, favours from men everyone thought he’d cut ties with, and the New York Bratva was engaged in a turf war with what remained of the sixth family. Emmy had cleared the playing field, and Maxim Mikhailov and his crew were sidelining any last remaining team members.
Kaylin and Matty were free. No ties. Nico hoped that she’d agree to make things legal at some point in the future, but for now, he was just happy to have her in his bed every night, and Matty next door in the nursery. Fatherhood was an unexpected pleasure. Hell, they were going to Wonder World again next week, and Nico was already looking forward to the trip.
It was a full house at Deals on Wheels tonight. Brooke and Luca were there, as were Aaron and Romi. Blue had shown up sporting her usual scowl, the thundercloud to Addy’s sunshine. Brie and Colt were there with Kiki and a full complement of bodyguards, which would at least give Nico and Kaylin’s own security team some company. Yes, the danger was past, but he was taking no chances.
Sara Baldwin made an appearance with her new beau, Garrett, plus a blonde she introduced as Gracie and a quintessentially handsome but clumsy guy who tripped over one of Vega’s toys as he approached to introduce himself. Lewis, an old friend of Garrett’s. He was in town working on some kind of research project, and Nico didn’t miss the way Addy’s gaze followed him around the room. Was there something going on between the two of them?
Paulo was present, as was Everly, and Deck had swapped his usual torn jeans for a smarter pair. And there she was. Darla. This evening, her muumuu was bright pink, and she wore a matching headband. Mousy brown hair hung down her back, and were her eyes truly the colour of cornflowers, or was that fake too?
Nico found himself focusing on her throughout dinner, glancing across when it was safe, listening to every word she said when it wasn’t. She gave nothing away. Absolutely nothing. When you studied her, looked beyond the drab hair and dowdy clothes, she really was beautiful, but her body was a mystery. Whoever invented the muumuu should have followed Shelley off the cliff. Darla’s American accent was perfect, the dialect on point, and she was delightfully pleasant to everyone. Never raised her voice, never showed irritation, never acted bored. A Stepford hippie.
When Nico wasn’t watching Darla, his attention drifted to Kaylin and Matty. His Kaylin and Matty. Mistakes had been made in the past, but they were together now, and that was all that mattered. She was speaking with Sara about event planning, discussing the possibility of working together in the future, and for a moment, Nico just closed his eyes and breathed.
Even with the disconcerting knowledge that Viktoria was in town, life was fucking perfect right now.
The downside of having a child was that Matty got cranky long before the evening was over, but family took priority these days. Nico picked him up while Kaylin rushed around saying goodbye to everyone, smiling, apologising for having to leave, promising to catch up later in the week.
“You forgot this.” Darla held out Not-Shelley, a benign smile on her face. Her approach had been silent.
Unsettling.
“Spasibo,” he said, almost without thinking.
Something that might have been amusement flickered in her eyes. “Pozhaluysta.”
Fuck.
“I don’t just mean for the toy,” he added softly in Russian.
For the briefest of moments, Darla disappeared, and Nico saw the woman behind the mask. The sharp intelligence she usually kept hidden.
“You’re not as stupid as your father, Nicolai.”
“Which one was you? The elevator?”
“Nyet, the hospital.” Then Darla came back. “You have a great evening, hun.” She patted Matty on the cheek. “Such a sweetie.”
She sauntered off, the muumuu billowing behind her, and Kaylin slipped an arm around Nico’s waist.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
Nico’s past and his future had clashed in the most unexpected of ways, but he wouldn’t change a thing. He brushed his lips across Kaylin’s.
“With you? Always.”
