“You will not,” she says, outrage softening into a laugh. “You’re not a monster.”
I don’t answer. I don’t look back. If I do, I’ll see her feeding the tiny thing with a saucer and her fingers, murmuring nonsense that sounds like care. If I do, I’ll remember the feeling of her voice sayingplease, and I’ll make more mistakes.
Instead, I leave.
Halfway down the hall, the image catches up anyway—her head bent, hair falling forward, that stubborn mouth soft for once. I rub a hand over my jaw, feeling the bite of my own teeth on my tongue where I held back something reckless.
I should have told her no and meant it. I should have thrown that cat out. Instead, I added another excuse to be near her.
I’m not a superstitious man, but I swear I can feel the gears shifting. A tiny stray thing in my kitchen just rewired the day.
Later, I’ll take her to the vet. I’ll tell myself it’s strictly for security. I’ll pretend I don’t already know this is a bad idea.
It was a bad idea from the moment I agreed to the deal with her brother.
I keep walking, water drying on my skin, towel cold around my neck, and all I can think is that my world was quieter before she arrived. Quieter…and easier to rule.
Now it feels alive. Dangerous. Like it’s waiting for someone to light a match.
She will; it’s just a matter of time.
And I’m the fool who just handed her the lighter.
23
MARA
Duchess wiggles in my lap like she owns the damn car. Her tiny claws catch on my green sweatshirt, her squeaky mewl filling the leather interior. I coo at her, scratching under her chin, while she bats at my thumb like it’s her new favorite toy.
Beside me, Nicolo grips the wheel like it personally offended him, jaw tight, eyes on the road, the perfect picture of irritation. The mid-afternoon light cuts across his face, sharp and unyielding, turning the lines of his cheekbones into shadows. The car hums low and steady beneath us, a cocoon of black leather and tension. Even the city outside seems to hold its breath—shops shuttered, streets mostly empty except for the occasional motorcycle darting past.
Of course, his silence only makes me grin harder.
“Relax,” I murmur to Duchess, ignoring him completely. “The scary robot just doesn’t know how to handle something this cute.”
From the driver’s side, Nicolo grumbles under his breath, “The stray could be crawling with disease. If you’re not careful, you could get rabies. You’re already rabid as is.”
I just know my right eye is twitching.
Grinding my teeth, I lift my chin. “Aww, aren’t you sweet for caring? I’m wearing leather gloves, and I know how to deal with stray kittens.”
He flicks a glance at me, brief but cutting, before turning back to the road. “Stray kittens bite. They scratch. They can destroy everything they touch if you’re not careful.”
“Sounds familiar,” I shoot back.
His knuckles flex on the steering wheel, the leather creaking under the force. For a second, I think he’ll actually answer, but instead he exhales slowly through his nose like he’s reining himself in.
Duchess mews again, pawing at my sleeve. I stroke her fur, softer now.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s just jealous no one coos over him anymore.”
“I don’t need anyone cooing over me.” His voice is even, final.
I hide my smirk, but watch the reflection of his scowl in the windshield. “Could’ve fooled me.”
The car slips into the underground parking garage, headlights bouncing off concrete pillars. The air down here is cooler, damp, carrying the faint tang of oil and metal. He kills the engine with a sharp twist of the key, but doesn’t move immediately. He just sits there with his hands still locked on the wheel, as if deciding whether it’s worth the effort to deal with me just because of the agreement he has with my brother.
Finally, he mutters, low and edged, “Of course you know how to deal with strays. You are one.”
