Page 76 of Violent Pawn

Vanessa gestures between us—which is nothing new given that she’s been playing mother hen between our bickering forever. “Quiet. People are watching. We’ll talk about this another time. If whoever’s behind this is only targeting my father’s Elite, he’s nearly out of people. If they’re targeting us all…well, that’s something to focus on after tonight.”

Lev meets my eyes, both of us thinking the same. We planned to fly to the Cayman Islands sometime in the next day or so, so stationing protection for Papa seems pointless. Although, it’d be fucking hell if a murderer took our vengeance from us within this short timeframe.

Dimitri and Katya wander away, feigning happiness in a moment of darkness, while Lev and Vanessa join Serafina and Zeno, who are standing together across the room.

Alone, I position myself in the farthest corner and in sight of the bar.

For whatever reason, Nero has been keeping his distance ever since we returned from the two other brothels late last night, and into the morning. We slept separately, and he didn’t touch me again after the cellar where I blew him on a whim driven by lust and acceptance.

Though he’s been watching me all night, the same way I’ve been stalking him.

Something is lingering around him. An obscurity that replaced his usual cheery disposition that I’m unsure how to break through, only that I long to. He seems pissed at something, but I don’t believe I’m behind it.

Tonight, he’s back on his heavy drinking, presumably drowning out whatever is bothering him. I watch him gesture for his fourth of the night as a woman sidles up to him. She flips hair I have a sudden urge to slice off, and reaches for the drink the bartender slides his way, sipping before he can take it. She tries to hand it back, grinning as if she didn’t steal from him. Giving her his back, he gestures for another from the bartender. Once it’s in hand, he leaves the bar without a tagalong. The woman watches him go with a pout before searching for her next victim.

Nero slides into the space beside the window with me, leaning on it as he smirks. “I like you jealous.”

“You need to look up the definition of jealousy because it isn’t even close to what I’m feeling.” I sniff, catching a hint of bourbon on his breath—spicy, warm, and all Nero.

“No?” He ducks his head and traces over my cheek and onto my pulse, making it leap. “You’re tense, Petrov. Have a drink.”

“You should know by now that tense is my natural way of being.”

Banter is good. Banter is familiar and very us. It helps me ignore my ever-changing feelings for this man.

“I like your natural way. I especially enjoy how it makes these eyes of yours”—his thumb strokes beneath one—“green.”

I turn my head into his touch, nipping his fingertips in warning. “They’re naturally green, so that line was terrible. Besides, why would I be jealous when it’s me you run to?”

“She says victoriously.” He shoves off the windowsill to position himself in front of me, scanning my one-shouldered red dress. “I’ll always run to you. The red is a bit too on the mark if your intention is to keep me away.”

“That was a weak joke.” Except it doesn’t conceal the small chuckle, which only gets him going.

“Aha. At least, avoiding women I’m disinterested in earns me points in the trust category.”

“Does it?”

He hums and takes a sip from his drink. “It’s a fact. You saved all your dances for me. What else should I assume?”

I did because it felt right. Because no one here appeals to me enough to even hold out for one polite dance. “You need to get your arrogance in check.”

“Do I?” Downing the rest of his drink, he reaches by me to rest the empty glass on the windowsill. He doesn’t step back as he straightens, crowding me against the chilly pane. “Is it arrogant to say there hasn’t been a moment I haven’t been thinking about your lips around my cock?”

Same. I don’t hand him that power. Instead, I lift my chin. “Then why have you been avoiding me all day and evening?”

“Z had me running errands for Van this morning. As for the party, I’ve been giving you space. Too much of me seems to send you running.”

A comment like that would once have pissed me off because it means Nero sees me, and I don’t know how to feel about that. Not my rapidly beating heart, nor the grip faltering on my glass.

“I’m done running.”

Nero grins and drops his hand to the slit in my dress. A finger slides up my thigh, and I’m powerless to stop him. For once, I’m okay with being powerless. “One day soon, I’ll be inside you so deeply, we won’t know where we start or end. Your pussy, your heart, and your soul.”

“Ew.” My brother’s voice cuts through the fog brought on by Nero’s touch—his entire presence, actually—as he and Serafina appear behind Nero’s shoulder. Lev’s scrunched face and paler-than-usual skin look seconds away from throwing up while Serafina outright laughs, especially when Nero pulls away after fixing my dress.

“Mini-Mancini, you must fuckin’ hate me or something.”

“Vanessa’s looking for you both,” Lev announces, paying no extra attention to Nero’s irritation. “Dinner’s about to begin. Now that I’ve done my job, I’ll be scrubbing this from my mind.”