Less than five minutes later, the sharp shatter of glass and a chorus of screams echoed from deep within the casino.

Nico returned. The Vescovi Soldato who had spoken so rudely to me was now crumpled on the ground, clutching his head as blood seeped through his fingers. Nico casually tossed aside the jagged neck of a broken bottle, and the entire casino floor fell into a dead silence.

Marco came storming out after him, his eyes landing on me sitting calmly in Nico's car in the parking lot.

He strode toward Nico. "What the hell do you think you're doing, meddling in my business?" he yelled. "I had a meeting with you tonight, and you blew me off for some woman?"

"And you've got her stashed in your car? Let me see what bombshell has our De Luca family Underboss so captivated!"

Marco shouted, reaching for the car door.

I instinctively shrank back into the shadows.

But Marco's hand never made it to the handle.

Nico simply shot him an ice-cold glance, and Marco wisely retracted his hand. "Fine, fine, so protective. You'll have to introduce her to the guys sometime!"

"By the way, Nico, you won't believe it—I ran into Alessia. She walked into the wrong room, saw me with another woman. Scared the shit out of me, but my guys were brilliant—told her I was kidnapped and have amnesia. I'm gonna ride this amnesia thing out for a bit, then 'miraculously' get my memory back."

"Nico, you're a genius. I'm not done having my fun yet. That fake death you arranged for me was the perfect way to get rid of her!"

Nico ignored him completely, getting into the driver's seat, locking the doors, and speeding away, leaving Marco standing in a cloud of exhaust fumes.

He took me back to his heavily guarded penthouse apartment.

The moment the door closed behind us, he pulled me into his arms.

After we emerged from the steam-filled bathroom, he laid me down on the cool silk sheets, his phone landing with a soft thud on the nightstand.

Only after I had finished a hot, sweet drink did he strip off his damp shirt and slide in beside me, his scorching palm roaming over my lower abdomen, igniting a trail of fire.

The light from the crystal chandelier above was cool, glinting off the hard planes of his abs, defining the taut lines of muscle that practically begged to be touched.

And I touched them.

Nico's eyes darkened instantly, and he seized my wrist.

"Don't move," he commanded, his voice a low growl.

But I had no intention of obeying.

He gripped the back of my neck, pulling me closer.

After two years, he knew my body as well as his own.

As our passion crested, he took my hand, guiding it downward.

His voice was hoarse, laced with a raw plea. "Help me…"

I was intimately familiar with Nico's stamina; I had, after all, tested its limits on countless nights.

When he finally found his release, my wrist ached with a pleasant numbness.

He was about to carry me back to the bathroom when the phone on the nightstand suddenly blared to life.

It was Nico's phone.

My hand brushed against the screen, and before I could pull back, the call was answered.

"Nico, I'm planning to throw an engagement party with Caterina. Really rub it in Alessia's face, you know? Crush any hope she might have left. What do you think?"

"And don't you think something's off with Alessia? She sees me alive and well and doesn't even bother to check in. She's too busy sulking; hasn't contacted me at all."

"It's been two years. Looks like she's gotten bold. I need to provoke her, make her feel the sting of almost losing me all over again. I'll handle the details; you'll be in charge of…"

Marco's voice droned on through the phone.

Then, he stopped mid-sentence.

I couldn't help but let out a soft gasp.

It wasn't Marco's voice that made me gasp, but the feeling of something hot and hard stirring against my palm, pulsing with a demanding rhythm.

Marco, on the other end of the line, also fell silent at the sound. "Nico," he asked, his voice sharp with suspicion, "is someone there with you?"

I shot Nico a glare that was equal parts annoyance and embarrassment.

Marco's surprised voice crackled through the phone. "Well, well, Nico! What's all that noise? You got a woman over there? Come on, spill. Is it the one from the parking lot?"

Of course he wouldn't recognize my voice from a single gasp. Not after two years and, I was sure, a parade of other women.

Nico seemed entirely unbothered by Marco's prying.

His gaze was locked on me, both tender and scorching.

I glared at him resentfully, squirming out of his embrace and trying to crawl to the far side of the massive bed.

However, I didn't get far before Nico's hand clamped around my ankle, and he dragged me back.

Marco was still rambling.

"Buddy, you have to let me get a look at the girl who finally captured the heart of our stone-cold Underboss! And hey, since you have company now, you can't keep turning down the girls I've been setting you up with, right?"

"Speaking of the engagement party, I was going to ask you to invite Alessia, but I know how much you can't stand her…" Marco didn't get to finish.

Nico’s patience snapped. He ended the call.

He tossed the phone onto the bed and, with one arm, scooped me up and carried me back into the bathroom.

Three hours later, we finally emerged.

Nico looked utterly satisfied. I shot him a fierce glare, flopped onto my back on the bed, and pointedly ignored him.

I glanced at my phone and saw a new message.

It was from one of Marco's men—one of the confidants he had insisted I meet two years ago.

[Alessia, Marco is getting engaged to Caterina in a week. For the honor of the Gallo family, you have to come talk some sense into him! I don't want him to regret this when he gets his memory back. This isn't what he truly wants!] I read the message, deleted it without a second thought, and tossed my phone aside. I wasn't the type to go looking for drama.

What did Marco's engagement have to do with me?

Nico tried to sidle over and wrap his arms around me, but one sharp look was enough to make him retreat obediently. I was in no mood for another "marathon."

The news that Marco Vescovi was alive and about to be engaged spread like wildfire through Chicago's underworld.

The reactions across the Chicago Outfit were varied.

Some pitied me, some cursed Marco's name, and others were just eager to watch the Vescovi family drama unfold.

My college friend, Isabella, called me, launching immediately into a tirade.

"When I heard Marco was alive, I was so happy for you! But then I heard he was proposing to someone else, and my good mood just vanished!"

"This is insane! He gets amnesia, so he can just abandon you? You're his fiancée! This alliance is between two major families! What the hell is he thinking?"

"No, I refuse to stand by and watch my best friend get screwed over like this! I'm going to find out where he's holding this party, and we're going to go crash it. We'll get you some justice!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Alliances can be broken. Engagements can be called off. He and I were finished two years ago. His life now? It has nothing to do with me."

Isabella was still fuming. "I just can't stand it… you waited for him for two whole years! You've been completely alone all this time!"

I nearly choked on my water. Waited for him for two years? Please. The only reason no one knew about Nico and me was because we hadn't gone public.

Isabella kept trying to persuade me to go confront Marco with her, but I firmly refused.

She sighed heavily and finally gave up.

"Alright, fine. Then how about we meet up tonight? Someone needs a valuable piece from their collection appraised urgently, and they specifically requested you."

I had no other plans, so I agreed.

Isabella chose the location.

She was already waiting when I arrived.

As I took in the grand estate before me, I froze.

"I thought we were going to a gallery. Why are we at the Vescovi family estate?"

Isabella's eyes darted around nervously as she tugged me forward.

"The client is inside. A very important person. Let's hurry; we can't keep them waiting!"