Page 150 of Vicious Kingdom

“Hi, Americano, welcome to the land of the living!” I sang out.

He shot me a look, but there was no missing the smirk on his lip. “Been busy, little authoress?”

“Mhmm,” I grinned. “I have.”

Leo set the cup down, wiped his hand on a napkin, and looked at me with the sort of eyes that could read a search warrant upside-down at thirty yards.

“Anna,” he said. The smile broadened as he looked me over. “You did it.”

I could barely contain the rush of endorphins that shot through me. His smile was everything. The look of pride glowed in his black eyes, focused wholly on me. I drifted closer, and every step made my pulse tick up, as if the tile floor were a live wire. When I reached the island, I set the laptop down, making sure the thud had enough finality to it.

“I finished,” I blurted, before I could change my mind and hide my accomplishment as was my habit. The words popped like a balloon between us, sweet and raw and a little bit desperate.

He let out a low whistle. “I knew you would.”

I nodded. The movement felt idiotic, over-eager, but there was no taking it back. I had to keep momentum or I’d tip over.

“Want to see it?” I asked, my voice steadier than I deserved. “I made all the changes. Tightened the second act, gave the villain a real arc. Even killed the backup love interest in the final draft, just like you threatened to if I didn’t.”

He laughed, and for the first time since I’d walked in, the tension in my spine unspooled a fraction. Leo’s laugh was a rough, broken-in sound, like some treasure from a pawn shop to keep forever just for the sentimental value.

He raked a hand through his hair, and I caught the glint of a healing cut on his knuckle. His nights out with his brotherproduced all kinds of strange injuries—but those were worries I would dwell on another time. Right now was about me—about us.

“You worked so hard,” he said.

I shrugged, more embarrassed than I wanted to be. “I figured I owed you a real ending.”

“I can’t wait to read it, but….” His gaze narrowed. “What happened?”

Damn him. He saw right through me.

“Mom called. The article. She’s furious.”

He rounded the island, his steps slow, deliberate, as if he were worried I’d bolt at any second. He didn’t touch the laptop. Instead, he leaned in and put a hand on my shoulder, thumb grazing the line of my collarbone.

“You okay?” Leo asked, voice pitched so low I felt it more than heard it.

I meant to say yes. Instead, I just shook my head and let the heat behind my eyes do the talking. He squeezed my shoulder, gentle but insistent.

“You did the right thing,” he said. “You always do.”

It wasn’t true, but I let it slide. I didn’t have the energy to dredge up the past.

“Sit,” he said, nodding at the breakfast nook. “I’ll make you a cup of something grotesque. Chai or matcha?”

I snorted. “Matcha, please. I filled my morning with chai.”

I settled onto the island stool. The sun kept drifting west, laying out fresh stripes across the counter every minute or so. I watched Leo measure out the green powder. Even sleep-deprived, he moved like a man who knew how to run a room—shoulders squared, elbows sharp, always three steps ahead in his own head.

Leo brought over the mug and then dropped into the seat beside me, hands engulfing his own tiny cup. “Tell me about it,” he said.

I shrugged, staring into the coffee like it would yield some secret schematic of the universe. “It’s not the story I started with. But it’s the one I could actually finish.”

He let that hang in the air. Leo was good at silence. He could weaponize it when he wanted to, but today he just let it settle between us, weighty but not oppressive.

“Do you think it’ll sell?” I asked.

He took a sip, then grinned, teeth flashing. “Depends. Did you include the sex scene?”