Especially when he says:
“Hi, uncles.”
CHAPTER 59
NINA MARCHESI
“Thank you for having me,” Nero says as soon as I step aside and let him into the house. He’s wearing denim shorts and a white shirt, the first two buttons undone, and I look away when I realize I’m staring. “Is Kael here?” he asks, anxiety edging his voice. “I really miss him.”
I take a deep breath, reminding myself that this is exactly why I invited him over this afternoon. I might have been able to keep them apart longer if I hadn’t made the mistake—literal and metaphorical—of opening the door to Nero a week ago.
But now that he’s met him, my son has asked several times whether his father has gone back to being a prince—and when I said no, he asked why, then, he hadn’t come to see him.
“No. Today’s my mother’s day off. She took him to the neighborhood square,” I answer. Nero nods; disappointment flashes across his face, but he hides it quickly. As promised, he hasn’t made any demands—at least, not yet.
Atlas, who’s always had my number—even though, in recent years, our communication went through my mother—asked if he could pass it on to Nero. Resigned, I agreed. Over the last seven days, I’ve received daily messages asking how Kael was in the morning and at night. Nothing more.
“I read the documents you gave me,” I say, walking ahead of him and stopping at the dining table. I gesture for him to sit, wait until he chooses a seat, then sit across from him. I slide the envelope back across the tabletop until it rests in front of him. “I have some reservations. I made a few changes and I’d like to talk about them.”
His eyebrows lift. I know exactly why.
The assurances Nero whispered to me at my door were multiplied tenfold in the documents. According to the papers in the envelope, he was committing to do whatever I wanted—to submit to any decision I made—when it came to Kael.
Nero places his hands on the envelope but doesn’t open it. I brace myself to argue. I assumed his cooperative posture wouldn’t last forever.
“That’s fine. I’ll ask Atlas to draft the revisions,” he promises, and I frown, confused.
“You’re not going to read them first?”
“I don’t need to.”
“But you don’t know what changes I’m proposing.”
“I don’t need to know, Nina. They don’t matter. I meant it when I said it would be on your terms—whatever those terms are.”
I blink, genuinely surprised, and my heart tightens in an unfamiliar way—too pleased by what I’ve just heard. I scold it silently.
“I should’ve added a clause banning you from setting foot in Italy. Is it too late to amend?” I ask. Nero’s mouth stretches into a wide smile. My mind wants to think it’s beautiful too, but I refuse the thought. “Do you have any idea how long you’ll be staying in town?” I ask, changing the subject. “Our routine is complicated, but if you can tell me how long you plan to stay, we can organize things and start introducing you into Kael’s life gradually.”
“I do,” he says, and I raise my eyebrows, prompting him to continue. “Forever, probably. Unless you want to move, of course. Then I’ll go wherever you go.”
I roll my eyes at the absurd answer. It’s the same as before, and it makes me want to growl.
“I’m being serious, Nero. I invited you here solely because—against all my instincts—I know my son deserves a father. But if you’re not going to take this seriously, it’s better we stop before we even begin.”
“I am taking it seriously,” he says simply, without any sign of irritation at my reaction.
“You can’t be serious and say you’re staying here forever. You have a life. There’s no way you can abandon it, and you know that. Things will be much easier if we’re honest from the start.”
“You want honesty? You want me to be serious?”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
“All right,” he says. I place my hands on the table, fingers interlaced. “You’re right, Nina. I do have a life.”
I nod.
The hope that—for Kael’s sake—had stubbornly begun to take root in my chest with his earlier words withers and dies. Even so, I feel oddly satisfied.
