Chapter 3 - THE RULES OF WAR
By Sunday morning, I had been married less than twenty-four hours and had already threatened to sue my husband twice.
The first time was over my phone.
The second was over my freedom.
“You cannot confiscate my property.”
Nico stood at the kitchen counter drinking espresso.
“I didn’t confiscate it.”
“You gave it to a man named Carlo who removed the battery.”
“He scanned it for spyware.”
“Without permission.”
“You’re welcome.”
I stared at him.
He looked infuriatingly rested.
I had slept maybe three hours.
Every sound in the townhouse had become suspicious after the box arrived. Pipes settling. Doors closing. Cars passing outside.
At two in the morning, I had checked the bedroom lock three times.
At three, someone had walked past my door.
At four, I gave up and started reading case law.
Nico looked at the stack of printed articles beside my plate.
“Did you sleep?”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Psychopath.”
“Probably.”
Maria placed eggs in front of me and escaped.
Smart woman.
“My phone,” I said.
“Carlo will return it.”
“When?”
“When it’s clean.”
“And Columbia?”
“No.”
“Nico.”
“No.”
“You signed a contract saying I could continue school.”
“I signed a contract before someone delivered a threat inside my house.”
“That’s your security failure, not my academic problem.”
His eyes narrowed.
I continued.
“Also, a temporary threat does not nullify a signed agreement unless the agreement contains a relevant force majeure provision, which it doesn’t.”
He slowly set down his cup.
“You memorized the prenup?”
“Mostly.”
“Why?”
“I read.”
“You memorize everything you read?”
“Only things I may need to use in court.”
For one second, he looked almost impressed.
Then he ruined it.
“You’re still not going.”
I pushed my plate away.
“Then I’ll contact Columbia and arrange remote attendance.”
“That’s fine.”
I paused.
He took another drink.
“That was too easy.”
“You said you wanted school. You didn’t say you needed the building.”
I hated when he had a point.
“Fine. I’ll start with remote classes.”
“Good.”
“For one week.”
“Two.”
“One.”
“Ten days.”
“Seven.”
“Done.”
We stared at each other.
Maria appeared in the doorway.
“Should I bring a contract every morning?”
Nico closed his eyes.
I laughed.
Maria smiled and disappeared again.
At noon, Sofia arrived with files and gossip.
“You survived the first night.”
“Barely.”
“My brother snore?”
“We have separate rooms.”
She looked at Nico, who was standing near the windows talking quietly on his phone.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“That’s very nineteenth century.”
“He locked the connecting door.”
Sofia’s brows rose.
“From your side or his?”
“His.”
She glanced back at him.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That means something.”
“It means my brother is trying very hard to be a gentleman.”
“I didn’t realize locking doors was chivalry.”
“With Nico? Absolutely.”
He ended his call.
“Sofia.”
“Yes, terrifying older brother?”
“You have work.”
“So do you.”
“Elsewhere.”
She grinned at me and left the room.
Nico waited until the door closed.
“I found out how the package entered.”
I straightened.
“How?”
“Delivery truck.”
“What delivery truck?”
“Flowers arrived for the wedding. One box came through with the rest.”
“So whoever sent it knew your schedule.”
“Yes.”
“And your vendors.”
“Yes.”
“And exactly where the service entrance was.”
“Yes.”
I stood.
“That sounds like someone who knows this house.”
His expression told me he had reached the same conclusion.
“One of your employees?”
“Possibly.”
“Or family.”
His eyes went cold.
“Careful.”
“I’m not accusing anyone.”
“You just did.”
“No. I identified categories.”
“Law school will be unbearable with you.”
“I’m counting on it.”
He turned away.
I watched him.
“Nico.”
“What?”
“What did the note mean?”
“You read it.”
“No. I mean why would marriage save me?”
His silence stretched too long.
I stepped closer.
“Yesterday you said the marriage makes me your responsibility.”
“Yes.”
“Symbolically?”
“No.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means people who would risk angering James Hart might not risk angering me.”
“You say that like you have a different reputation.”
“I do.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“It isn’t supposed to be.”
I walked around the table.
“Who are they?”
“We’re still identifying them.”
“You know more than that.”
He looked at me.
“I know they’re connected to a group that has been trying to move into New York construction for three years.”
“Organized crime?”
“Yes.”
The direct answer surprised me.
“Which group?”
“Petrov.”
I frowned.
“Russian?”
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“Crime stopped respecting geography a long time ago.”
I sat down slowly.
“Why my father?”
“Your father controls contracts they want.”
“And you?”
“I control people they don’t want in the way.”
“Do you mean unions?”
His mouth almost smiled.
“You ask dangerous questions.”
“That’s what education does.”
“It’s what curiosity does.”
“What aren’t you saying?”
He leaned against the desk.
“That your father made a mistake.”
“What kind?”
“He tried to play both sides.”
My stomach tightened.
“How?”
“He accepted financing from an investment group linked to Petrov while still working with companies protected by my family.”
“Protected?”
His eyes held mine.
“Don’t ask me questions if you won’t like the answers.”
“I don’t need to like them.”
Something changed in his face.
Maybe respect.
Maybe concern.
“He thought he could use their money without giving them influence.”
“And he was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“What did they want?”
“Access.”
“To construction contracts?”
“To ports. warehouses. private security systems. political donors.”
My father’s world suddenly looked darker than it had Thursday morning.
“And when he refused?”
“They reminded him what leverage looks like.”
“Me.”
Nico didn’t answer.
I hated that silence more than confirmation.
“Does my father have other enemies?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Do you want the alphabetical list or the one ranked by probability of homicide?”
I stared.
He sighed.
“That was a joke.”
“You’re terrible at them.”
“So I’m told.”
A phone buzzed on the desk.
Mine.
I looked at him.
He nodded.
“Clean.”
I grabbed it.
Thirty-seven messages.
Eight missed calls.
One from my roommate, Paige.
I called her immediately.
She answered on the first ring.
“EVELYN HART, WHAT THE HELL?”
I pulled the phone away.
Nico’s mouth twitched.
“I’m alive.”
“You got married!”
“Yes.”
“To NICHOLAS CARUSO.”
“Yes.”
“The hot mafia one?”
Nico choked.
I turned my back.
“Please lower your voice.”
“Is he there?”
“No.”
He was.
He looked offended by my lie.
Paige continued, “This is insane. I saw pictures online.”
“What pictures?”
“Outside the church. Someone got you getting into a car.”
My skin prickled.
“Send them.”
“Why?”
“Just send them.”
Seconds later, three photographs arrived.
Blurry.
Long lens.
Me and Nico leaving St. Anthony’s.
Another of my father entering earlier.
A third of Sofia speaking to a security man.
I zoomed in.
My breath caught.
“What?” Nico asked.
I held up one finger.
“Paige, where did you find these?”
“Some account on Instagram. Why?”
“Send the account.”
She did.
I opened it.
The page had been created two days earlier.
Only four posts.
Three wedding photos.
And one photograph of my Columbia apartment building.
Caption: THE PRINCESS CHANGED CASTLES.
I stopped breathing.
Nico was beside me instantly.
He took the phone.
His face hardened.
“Carlo.”
The security chief appeared within seconds.
Nico handed him the phone.
“Trace it.”
Carlo left.
I called Paige back.
“Listen to me. Don’t go to my apartment.”
“What?”
“Stay with your boyfriend for a few days.”
“Evie, you’re scaring me.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“What’s going on?”
I looked at Nico.
He shook his head.
I ignored him.
“Someone has been watching me.”
Paige went silent.
“Police?”
“Security.”
“Is this because of your dad?”
“I don’t know.”
I did.
That was worse.
“I’ll call you later.”
When I hung up, Nico looked furious.
“You shouldn’t have told her.”
“She’s my best friend.”
“Which makes her leverage.”
The word hit like a slap.
“She has nothing to do with this.”
“Neither do you.”
“Exactly.”
He stopped.
That was the first time I had seen him lose an argument without finding another angle.
I crossed my arms.
“Then protect her too.”
His eyebrows rose.
“You’re assigning my security now?”
“I’m asking.”
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then at Carlo, who had returned.
“Put someone on Paige Morgan.”
Carlo nodded.
“Discreet?”
I said.
Nico looked at me.
“Discreet.”
Carlo left again.
I exhaled.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
It was the first normal exchange we had ever had.
Naturally, it lasted four seconds.
The front door slammed downstairs.
Voices rose.
A man shouted.
Nico moved before I did.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
He gave me a look.
I followed anyway.
In the foyer, two security men were holding a third man against the wall.
I recognized him.
He had been at the church.
One of the quiet men near the back.
Blood ran from his lip.
Carlo stood in front of him holding a small black device.
“What is that?” I asked.
Everyone looked at me.
Nico’s jaw flexed.
“A transmitter.”
“Where was it?”
Carlo answered.
“Inside the flower box.”
The restrained man spat blood onto the marble.
Nico’s face became terrifyingly calm.
“You signed for the flowers.”
The man said nothing.
“You brought them inside.”
Silence.
“Who paid you?”
Nothing.
Nico stepped closer.
I had never seen violence happen in real life.
Not serious violence.
But I recognized the moment before it.
The way Nico’s shoulders settled.
The way everyone else became very still.
I walked forward.
“Nico.”
He didn’t look at me.
“Nicholas.”
His head turned slightly.
“If you hurt him, he has no reason to talk.”
The man against the wall laughed.
“Your little wife giving orders already?”
Nico’s expression changed.
The man saw it too late.
He smiled at me.
“You should ask your daddy what he traded for you, princess.”
Every nerve in my body froze.
“What did you say?”
Nico moved between us.
“Enough.”
I stepped around him.
“What did my father trade?”
The man looked straight at me.
“Not what.”
He grinned through the blood on his teeth.
“Who.”
The foyer went silent.
Nico grabbed his collar.
“Take him downstairs.”
Two men dragged him away.
I stared at Nico.
“What did he mean?”
“Nothing.”
“That is a lie.”
“He’s trying to scare you.”
“It worked. Now answer me.”
He turned toward the stairs.
I caught his sleeve.
“Nico.”
He stopped.
His eyes dropped to my hand.
Then lifted to my face.
“What did my father trade?”
For the first time since I met him, Nicholas Caruso looked like a man who genuinely did not know what to say.
That terrified me.
Because I suddenly understood there was another part of this marriage.
May you like
A part everyone knew except me.
And I was done being the last person in the room to learn the truth.
