Page 136 of Violent Pawn

NERO

Vanessa’s steps slap through the pool of blood the five slaughtered ex-soldiers have created.

Well, I created when I killed them all.

She stops in front of Georgy Vasilyev, bound and kneeling in that very blood, the sleeves of his suit jacket torn from his numerous escape attempts. Elio stands behind him with a gun lazily pointed at his back—a silent threat to earn his compliance.

She runs her tongue over her teeth, sighs, and drops into a crouch in front of him. “Oh, Georgy, when will men stop being so desperate and stop assuming they know what’s best for me?”

The fragment of hatred that’s yet to be beaten out of him burns brightly in his eyes. “I could have made the Bratva better than the Italian trash you chose.”

She purses her lips. “Could you have? Do you come with an entire organization at your beck and call? Seems like Zeno provides a lot more to my people than you ever will.” She stands, slaps her hands to her thighs, and twists away, discarding him with a look.

“Your future children will be the laughing stock of the criminal world.”

She whirls, teeth bared. For once, terrifying even me. She’s the woman who took over a male-driven mob and not my best friend’s wife. “Our children will run a dynasty, but you won’t be around to witness it.” She scans the three of us. “He’s done you guys more wrong than me, so it’s up to you how to get rid of him.”

Zeno shifts his attention from Vasilyev to me, standing beside Dimitri and drenched head-to-toe in the blood from the five other corpses lying nearby. If corpses count as the pile of limbs I sliced off, seeing only her in my mind. They might not have specifically harmed her, but they would have on orders. They were part of Vasilyev’s ragtag crew. They betrayed us and stole from us, and killed their own comrades. They deserved to burn every second their death was dragged out.

“Did you get your fill or would you like another?”

Vasilyev’s eyes bulge, and he cowers with a whimper, which pulls a maniacal grin to my mouth—the threat of what’ll happen if he annoys me longer.

Considering I was in the middle of torturing them when Zeno phoned Vanessa, who reported Anastasia woke from the coma, this needs to be wrapped up. All the torment from our history can remain here, so we move on together.

“I’m good.”

Zeno jerks his chin at Elio. “End it.”

“No!” Vasilyev’s crooning plea ends with a bang and his body slams forward, face in the blood of his minions.

For a moment, no one speaks. My breath is stilted through the scent of copper and hatred, of former enemies.

Then Zeno’s barking laughter shatters it as he wraps his arm around his wife. “Why is nothing between us simple?”

“It’s all me.” Vanessa burrows into his side with an affectionate smirk. “Unfortunately, assholes like this pop up way too often, which means you’re in for a hard-earned life.”

“An easy life is a boring life.”

Dimitri gags, making Elio laugh in agreement. I stride by them all, eager to get to my car. “You two make me sick. Now that this has been dealt with, I have places to go.”

“And a ballerina to see,” Vanessa calls after me.

Damn fucking right.

Anastasia is asleep when I finally arrive. Zeno was determined not to let me inside the hospital until I showered and changed clothes, considering I looked like an extra in a horror movie.

The room is full of beeps, each one more reassuring than the last. She’s the same as I left her earlier, but different too. Out of the coma and so close to being alright. To being her sparkly self again.

My exhausted limbs drop into one of two chairs with a low groan. Eyes burn in exhaustion, and while she’s asleep, I rest my head beside her hand and allow them to close and rest under the gentle reassurance of her breaths.

She’s alive, and for that, I breathe.

For once, without guilt.

My sleep is yanked away by the barest brush of her soft hand against mine.

She’s awake. For the first time in days, my soul will be healed.