“Because a man like Caelian Ziccardi must die,” he says matter-of-factly. “He’s too dominant, too threatening. Even weakened, even broken, he would come for me eventually. I don’t leave loose ends, little ballerina.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t. I’ll keep him away from you. He won’t retaliate, I swear it. Just let him live. Please just let him live.”
Nero’s eyes narrow. “And you expect me to take your word? After what your parents just pulled? After your husband barged in here like he was going to run things?”
“I had nothing to do with what my parents were up to—and… and Cael… he was just worried about me. He was looking for me.”
“If he lives tonight, he’ll die the moment he tries to retaliate. I will crush him myself. I will make sure my men capture him, and we’ll have our fun making him die a slow and painful death. You’ll be there to watch.”
I nod frantically, willing to agree to whatever he says. “Yes, okay. Whatever you want. Just don’t let him die. Please don’t kill him right now.”
I force myself to let go of Caelian’s hand, my fingers sticky with his blood. His eyes track me as I stand, a flicker of protest in them.
He doesn’t want me putting myself in harm’s way. His instructions were to survive. Not protect him.
But I’m willing to do whatever I need to do to get us out of this situation.
“I’ll show you where the key is,” I say in a forced calm tone. “It’s in my parents’ car. I hid it from them.”
Nero gestures with his gun. “Walk ahead of me. And don’t try anything stupid. You’ve seen what I do to people who disappoint me.”
I step in front of him, each stride taking me farther from Caelian. The man I love so much who’s bleeding out on a villain’s floor.
It feels so wrong my stomach churns and my heart aches.
But I force myself to keep going, reminding myself this is what I’ve got to do.
Right now, I’ve got to get Neroawayfrom Caelian if he’s to survive.
Nero dogs my footsteps as I lead him out into the hall. My mind’s racing, calculating angles, distances, possibilities.
I’ve trained for this. I’ve spent years training as a ballerina and then as a spy, learning how to lead men on only to get what I need from the situation.
Nero has no intention of keeping his word. He sees me as nothing but a weak little ballerina. If he gets his hands on that key, then it’s over for us.
But I’m about to show him differently. I’m about to survive at all costs—and make sure Caelian does too.
I slow my pace, no longer moving at a fast stride.
“Keep moving,” Nero commands behind me.
I stop altogether, raising my hands as if in surrender.
In my mind, I’m back at the dance company, feeling the burn in my muscles, the perfect control of my body honed over years of training. I’m in my dance studio at Caelian’s, practicing for hours at a time to an imaginary audience.
I’ve learned how to use my small size and the speed and flexibility I have so naturally to my advantage.
“Did you hear me?” he barks. “I said keep?—”
I drop low, spinning in a perfect circle on the ball of my feet, the other leg spread out. I sweep Nero’s legs out from under him before he even registers what’s happening. As his legs swing up into the air and he crashes down onto his back, his gun discharges anyway.
The bullet cracks through the air, narrowly whizzing by my head. So close the heat sears past me and shatters a crystal vase on a side table nearby.
I launch myself at him, my small frame not enough to hold him down in any real way. But my nails are ready, going straight for his eyes.
“ARGH!” he screams as I gouge at them.
I go harder, sinking them in, drawing blood.
