Page 104 of Violent Pawn

Vanessa hums, glancing at Zeno. “Have you spoken to him since?”

“Obviously not.” Not for lack of attempt or missing him even.

“Can we help with that? Bring him here, act as a mediator between you two or something?”

My head jerks. “Explain why the hell I’d want you to.”

“You once did the same for me. Did you or did you not lock us into a club so we can talk it out?”

“Sure, but you two were annoying.”

Her brow lifts. “And this isn’t?”

“You were moping. I’m…fine.”

“Try again, this time with conviction.”

Snarling, I grip the book tighter and whirl for the door. “Everything is fine, and I’m still pissed at him, and you can’t claim otherwise. Leave it alone, Van. I beg you.”

Neither of them stops me as I rush from the office and head down the hallway with no destination in mind. I stalk by Lev’s basement when the door opens and shuts, but I keep walking because I’m really not in the mood to deal with him right now.

Instead, a gentle voice calls my name, and I glance over my shoulder to find Serafina standing by the shut door, fiddling with the edge of her shirt. Her nervousness pulls me to a stop.

“Hey. You good?”

“I’m fine, but can we talk?” Her hands drop her shirt, smoothing out on her thighs as she takes a steady step forward.

I glance at the door and back. “Is my brother okay?”

“He’s good, just…” She licks her lips, peering up through her bangs. “Promise you won’t be mad at him, or me as the messenger? He wanted to have this conversation himself, but you know how hard it is for him.”

My stomach drops. It’s like they planned it all or something.

“Sera, I can’t⁠—”

“It’s about Nero.” She rushes forward another two steps. “Lev feels you’re not as mad as you were months ago, or else you would have taken the fight to him. Instead, you’re refusing to talk to him. Do you know we all avoid mentioning his name, or else you leave the room?”

She’s lying. I don’t do that.

“Lev and Van sometimes say his name to gauge your reaction. We’re all worried, and but Van’s tried to talk to you before but you shut it down. Dimitri said he misses the old you.”

Anger licks down my spine. “You’re everyone’s messenger, huh? Draw the short straw or something?” My tone is harsher than I’ve ever used on her, causing her to flinch.

“I volunteered because they’re worried. They love you. All you do these days is work and dance and work some more. None of us see you anymore. Van claims the light has faded from your eyes. Says you’ve always had a special brightness, but around Nero, you were shining.”

My hand curls around the notebook. If they all sit around talking about me, planning this little intervention by sending the most harmless person in this house to pass along the sentiments, my family can die. None of them understand my anger like I do. Every claim Serafina makes is false.

“This is nothing,” I say instead of the many other things I wish to. “Everyone here is proof of living through pain, and Nero’s actions are no different. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

She stops my escape with a hand to my wrist and a question that shatters my resolve. “Then why do you act like he’s died? Z texted us and told us about what he did.” She nods to the book in hand. “I’ve known Nero for a long time. He’s been Z’s best friend since before I was born, so he’s like a second brother to me. Which is why I know this is his fucked-up way of trying to apologize.”

By locating my enemies.

By donating to my cause.

By gifting me flowers.

At what point will my soul crack open enough to allow forgiveness to slip inside? Forgiveness doesn’t even feel possible.