Nicoli

Nicoli DARK SOVEREIGN 4 BELLA J Contents Foreword Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 VIP Club OTHER NOVELS by BELLA J About the Author AUTHOR’S NOTE Nicoli is a dark mafia romance, and contain scenes that might offend sensitive readers. If you have any triggers at all, please proceed with caution. XOXO Nicoli (Dark Sovereign) Copyright ©2023 by Bella J All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual living or dead person, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental. Editors: Lori Whitwam Ansley Blackstock Virginia Tesi Carey Cover Design: Designed by Deranged Doctor Designs Photograph: Wander Aguiar Model: Christoph Prologue NICOLI I lean against my bedroom window, the cold pane of glass chilling my forehead as I stare into the still-dark morning. It’s four a.m., and I’ve been waiting for my dad to come home. Last night, he left in a rush with a harried look on his face, an air of panic following him out the door. Alexius and I both knew something was wrong and decided to stay up until our dad came home, eager to find out what was happening. I glance at Alexius, sprawled out on my bed, my twin snoring and drooling over my new navy-blue pillow. If this were his room and his bed, I’d pee in his face. A thick beam of light slices through the darkness in my room, moving along the wall and painting shadows. It’s my father’s car pulling up the driveway with two SUVs following. There’s an instant prickle of warning along the back of my neck as I watch multiple men exit the cars, holding guns in their hands. I’m no stranger to firearms. Not a day goes by that we don’t see at least one weapon in this house. Alexius and I turned thirteen two months ago, and that’s the day our dad allowed us to fire our first shot. A necessary evil, he called it. But the rush I felt when I pulled that trigger was indescribable. My father gets out of his Lexus, his black coat blending against the night, and he’s saying something to the men. Judging by his stern expression, he’s barking orders at them, and I watch as they all act in one swift motion, holstering their guns and hiding them beneath their jackets. The hair on my arms rises as chills flow over my skin, and my heart is beating so fast, I’m sure it’s about to ricochet out of my chest. Something’s wrong. I can feel it. I can see it on my dad’s face, and it’s making me anxious. I jolt when Alexius lets out this loud, hacking snore, and I curse under my breath, trying to swallow my heart back down my throat. Stupid asshole. A car door slams, and when I look back out the window, there’s this little girl wearing a bright yellow coat standing next to my dad. Her cape is covering her head, and she’s holding it tight around her neck as the winter air whips around her. A boy gets out of the car on the other side, and it takes me a moment before I recognize him. I’ve seen him a few times with his older brother and dad, who is one of my father’s friends. But my dad has never introduced us, as their visits would be brief and behind closed doors. Alexius and I often asked my father why they were allowed to join the meetings and not us. “I will determine when you’re ready, just as it is their father’s right to determine when they are. And right now, you are not ready.” It pissed us off to see them enter and leave our dad’s office, knowing that they knew more about what goes on around here than we do. My shoulders square as I watch the boy round the car, and the little girl rushes over to him, wrapping her short arms around his leg and clinging to him like the wind is about to sweep her away. He pulls her close, and it’s obvious she trusts him. She’s so tiny compared to him. The boy places an arm around her shoulders as if shielding her from the world. I wonder if that could be his sister. And where is his older brother? I’m about to wake Alexius when the girl looks up straight at me. It’s too dark to see the color of her eyes, but I can see she’s sad. Really, really sad. And she’s scared too. I have no idea how I know this. I just do. Everything about the scene in our driveway screams with melancholy. The front door opens, and my mother steps outside. She’s wearing a red coat over her white nightgown, her slippers leaving footprints in the snow as she walks up to my dad. She usually hugs him when he returns after leaving so abruptly and without any explanation. But not tonight. There’s no hugging. No kissing. No loving gesture. They’re simply staring at one another, a silent conversation where words don’t need to be said because it’s already written on my mother’s slumped shoulders and Dad’s dismayed expression. Something isn’t right. I sit up straight as my dad leans closer to my mother, whispering something in her ear. I have no idea what he’s saying to her, but when my mom glances up at my bedroom window, the porch lights illuminating her face, I can see the weariness on her