Paper Trails 2 | Draft

32.

"I know my deepest fears and I know my grandest dreams; She...She is both."

*****

Niccolò's POV

I had a very high level of respect for my uncle. Not just because he was my uncle, but because he was a father, in his way, as well. He'd raised me too, and raised me right. Because of him, I was stronger, smarter, better than I would have been had he not stepped up.

Yes, I respected him. I also wanted to cut his eyes out for staring at Neila too long.

He closed the door behind us once we'd entered his study.

"Drink?" He asked in our native tongue. I nodded. His eyes cut to mine. "You're clearly upset, Niccolò, what is it?"

My eyes drifted around the room. Everything looked the same; he wasn't much for change. "I thought you'd have...handled Bruno by now."

Leo shrugged as poured scotch into a glass. I seemed to have picked that up from him. "He's an asset."

"He needs to know his place."

"You need to know your place, as well. The way you talked to me, just now, in front of my men like that? Don't do it again. I won't be warning you a second time." He extended his hand. I took the glass. "She's beautiful."

My jaw sets. "Yes, she is."

"She's not like Sofia. Sofia was...innocent."

My eyes closed at the mention of her name. It'd been a while, I wasn't surprised he brought her up. I just wasn't expecting him to so soon. Especially to compare her to Neila. I didn't think they could be compared. They were polar opposites.

"You don't know Neila."

He chuckled. "I know the look in her eye."

My eyes darkened, as did my mood. I didn't like the way he said that. I also didn't like obvious attraction he seemed to have for her. It seemed she had that affect on everyone, and I was sick of having to reclaim what was mine.

"What look?"

He ignores my question and takes a sip from his glass. "We have a problem."

"With?"

"I lost half a million worth of heroin and one million in cocaine."

"What? To who? Pigs?" 

"I had facilitated an agreement with the Mexicans. It was a mistake."

"Mexicans stole from us?"

"From me." He didn't hesitate in reminding me that we hadn't been an us since I left Italy. "I want you to get it back."

Ironic.

"Leo, there is no way they are holding onto millions in drugs after stealing it from a foreign syndicate. They probably traded it, or transported it, or sold it—"

"And if I told you I know for a fact they are still holding onto it?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I'd ask how."

"Come on, Niccolò. I wouldn't be me if I didn't make friends in low places. I needed spies, I got spies. But you are the only person I trust to carry this out. To retrieve what was stolen, or, at least, get me a name."