Page 27 of Vicious Impulses (The Capo and Ballerina)
Nero arches a neatly waxed brow. “And what would that be?”
“I have recently purchased a girl from your company.”
“Which one?” he asks to laughter from his men.
“A ballerina.”
“Ah, yes. That’s right. I heard about that.”
Nero accepts the drink the server hands him and surveys me as he sips from it. He’s taking his time on purpose. His men flank him on either side, a wall of enforcers ready to do his bidding. They’re supposed to be intimidating, though they fail to realize I’m beyond such tricks.
I stand on my own. I need no men to back me up.
There’s freedom in having nothing to lose.
“Well,” Nero says slowly, “you see, Caelian, there’s a problem. The ballerina you purchased was in an ironclad contract.”
“I bought her out of the contract. Speak with Ignazio about it.”
“Ignazio has no authority on the matter. It wasn’t a contract to be bought out of. I’m sure you’re aware.”
I scowl at him, careless as to how disrespectful it may seem. “Then why don’t you tell me what the real price is? Isn’t that what this is about? I bought the ballerina, but you’re unsatisfied. I’m guessing that’s because of my father.”
Light gleams in his amber eyes. “You’re very smart. No wonder Carmine wants you to negotiate on his behalf. The ballerina is one of our most prized possessions at the dance company. You paid handsomely for her, that’s true… but still not enough considering everything.”
“Then what’s therealprice?” I grit out impatiently.
“You’ll be willing to pay it? I don’t know that you can. Your family isn’t prospering as it once did. Isn’t that why Carmine is so upset by my new stipulations?” His lip curls in a wider, cockier smirk.
I’d love to punch it off his face. I settle for clenching my hands into fists on the table. “You want me to get him to agree.”
“That’s right. If you’re tokeepthe ballerina. He needs to agree to the new terms and conditions of our Zinc Co partnership. It’d be the less… messy outcome.”
I leave Vecoli with hot, liquified metal coursing through my blood. A fury that burns and feels dangerous as it inhabits my veins.
But is it any surprise? I should’ve seen this coming. Nero would use my purchase of Nevaeh as a means to damage the family.
The Ziccardi name means shit to me. Insects I crush on the ground mean more. However, Nero’s request forces me to involve myself in a feud I had no intention of getting thrown into.
The location of my estate is so hidden and secluded, it’s an almost two hour drive from the city. My condition’s flaring up by the time I park my car and ride the elevator from the underground garage.
Ms. Poitier attempts to guilt trip me about Nevaeh again, telling me how she’s been miserable these past few days. I stride faster, slipping ahead of her by several paces.
“Let her speak to her mother. Five minutes only.”
I slam shut the door to my bedroom before Ms. Poitier even has a chance at sneaking inside.
In the solitude of the huge room, I’m able to take off my mask for the first time in hours. Exhaustion weighs in, and I lumber over to my medication drawer to take my next dose of pills. Dr. Tulio would be quick to come if I called him, but I choose to forego his treatment for now.
Instead, I sleep. I use the afternoon to rest up and recuperate from a trip into the city I probably wasn’t well enough to make so soon after another episode.
A great crash in the hallway wakes me. Followed by the softest little cry of pain I’ve ever heard.
Nevaeh.
I’m at the door, wrenching it open, stepping outside to the scene unfolding.
Enrico, one of my soldiers, stands over a small, crumpled body on the ground. Ms. Poitier hurries over with horror scribbled on her aged face.