Chapter Three

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Niko

I stay away from my bedroom for as long as possible, but duty calls and my laptop is in my office. So I entered quietly, hoping by some grace of God that Bianca had fallen asleep after our sexually charged encounter in the kitchen. Not that I told her to go to my room, but there's nowhere else for her to sleep here.

Her smell was enticing, and I hadn't forgotten what it felt like to sleep beside her warmth in my bed. The emotions are conflicting, yet I'm still leaning towards being annoyed for having her—particularly as my wife. Luckily for me, though she probably wasn't asleep, she shut the bedroom door, leaving me to roam my office as needed without her knowledge.

There are a few shipments due for arrival, and I must make the calls to see whether they've arrived at their destination. These are shipments of girls and drugs, just a wonderful part of my unwanted fucking job. But as they say here in the mafia, exclude yourself from the job, put on a brave face and fake your way through—the money talks for itself.

The calls take up the best part of three hours of my life, but I find each arrives promptly. It's only at the end of the last call that the security cameras send a message that movement has been detected out back on the patio.

I switch to the CCTV and watch Emma walk along the small patio and down the steps. She looks to the sky and collapses to the floor, caving in on herself.

This isn't the first time I've seen her escape into the gardens. And yet, tonight seems different; something calls for me to comfort her. Deciding to go out and see if she's okay, I log my laptop off and leave my office quietly in the hopes I don't disturb sleeping fucking beauty.

"What do I do, Mama?" I hear Emma ask aloud as I step outside. She falls forward, her cries not so quiet filling the garden around us. I wait, unsure if I want to be the one to hold her in such a state. Part of me thinks I should enlighten Luca, that he's best suited for this job. But then I think back on his piss poor behaviour with Emma, and that makes the decision easy.

I move swiftly, kneeling down behind her before wrapping her awkwardly in my arms and pulling her into my chest.

"What's wrong, Queen?"

"I—." She shakes her head, turning her whole body into me. I let myself fall on my arse, laying my legs on the floor before I allow Emma to hide in me.

Kissing her head every few seconds, I rub her back in reassuring circles, much as my aunt used to do when I fell to pieces over the death of another friend.

Emma soon calms, her tears only lasting as long as the wave of grief, no doubt lasts.

"You ready to talk now?" My voice comes out guarded. I could kill Bianca for the hurt she's caused Emma.

Lighting a joint, I lean back from Emma. And she shifts away swiftly.

"I miss my mother," she tells me, holding her hand out for the joint that I give to her without thought.

"I can relate to that; I'm sorry, Queen. No child should have to live without their mother."

Thoughts of my mother flit through my mind, but my grief is so old that I barely react now. I was but a baby when she was killed.

"I'm sorry," she hushes towards me, falling on her back before covering her face.

"Same world, different paths, Emma. But we have each other now. That's something," I admit.

She smokes the joint passively, not letting up on taking what she needs from that small stick of pleasure. I watch with amusement, yet I remember that it wasn't long ago that I heard her telling Luca off for smoking. I should mention it, instead, I bind my tongue and grab another out of the tin in my pocket to smoke myself; God knows I need it.

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