Page 144 of Violent Pawn

Comfort smells like fresh bread that makes my stomach rumble and the pleasant room’s heat that goes along with it. The fire from the old-fashioned ovens that create the ideal bread and various kinds of buns. Of seasonings that tickle the nostrils with flavour.

“My boy!” Nero’s papa comes rushing from the back room, wiping his floured hands on his apron as he pulls Nero down for a hug. Nero’s shoulders get imprinted with the white powder. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“A son can’t visit his father? Besides, I thought you’d want to meet Anastasia.”

He looks beyond Nero, spotting me. Although he grins widely and stretches to take my hand, he says, “I’m old, not dumb, boy. You forget Christmas already?”

“Ah, but then she was a friend. Now…” Nero reaches to tangle his fingers with mine and tugs me beside him. The weight of his arm rests around my waist, and my body goes from stiff to relaxed at the reminder that Nero is one of the good ones. “Now, she’s a bit more.”

His father’s gaze drops to our linked hands before clapping his hands together. “I knew it! I sensed it between you two. How are you, Ana? How’s the family?”

“They’re good, thanks for asking. I’m well too. Irritated this one”—I thumb toward his son—“doesn’t know when to give up. Now, I have a permanent attachment to lose.”

His father chuckles before tugging me away from Nero, who releases me to him with a barely-hidden grin. “My son doesn’t give up when he sets his mind on something. I’m very happy to see you again. Would you like a tour?”

“I’d love one, as long as there’s a snack along the way.” My stomach rumbles with the warm scent drifting from the back despite the breakfast I ate only an hour prior.

Comfort. That’s what it smells like.

After leaving his father’s bakery with a million and one promises to visit often, Nero swings me to a stop two blocks away and pushes me up against the cobblestone building behind us, which matches the bumpy ground.

His hands span over my hips and up my back as he ducks his head, sliding his nose up my neck. “Thank you for being you. My padre adores you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy.”

“You really don’t have to thank me. He’s great. A hundred times better than mine.”

He grunts into my skin, re-angling his mouth to scrape his teeth along my collarbone. “If only I had made your father’s death last longer. If I knew…”

Poking my nail into his chin, I force his head up. “Don’t talk about him. Never talk about him again. It’s over and done with, and that man doesn’t deserve to be in our thoughts for any longer.”

For a moment, it seems like he’ll argue when his mouth parts, but then he slowly closes it and nods. His gaze dips to my neck where he drags his fingers, tracing the edge of my shirt and down between my breasts.

“I’ll agree to that as long as you stay still.” Lips brush over my pulse, sending desire pulsating between my thighs that makes it nearly impossible to push him away.

Although it kills me, I do it anyway with my hands on his chest. “I need to talk to you first.” I’ve been trying to get this out since packing a bag for this trip this morning, but every time I convince myself to talk, I lose confidence.

It was an idea sparked when packing.

I move around him, to where my bag is slung over his shoulder, to retrieve the book and slide the black leather into his hand.

“Ana—”

“Together,” I choke out. “I want us to do it together. You requested a short trip away from home to spend a few days here, but I’m asking you to stay away for longer so we can find every one of them and kill them. Your note said you’d do it if I asked, so I’m asking you to join me. Help me murder my demons, Nero.”

The book slips from his hand, crashing by our feet with the surge that brings him closer. He cradles my face with his palms and slants his mouth across mine in a searing kiss that’s borderline possessive.

“Sì,” he mumbles against my mouth, nibbling on my bottom lip. “Fucking happily, yes. You killed my demons, so let me capture yours. Our fucked-up version of a date night.”

I’d been unaware of how a simple agreement could make the world seem like a better place, like I’m wanted. I lean into him because I’m allowed to. Because he’s someone to now lean on through the good and bad.

“I assumed we already had our date night? New Year’s Eve?”

He hums. “That night, I was still working on getting you to fall for me. But if you want a date night that doesn’t involve murder—” He steps backwards into the street and out from the shadows, fingers linked around mine. Playfully, he spins me around in a twirl reminiscent of ones I’d do on stage and pins me close with an arm around my shoulders as his other stretches in front of us. “I figured we could explore.”

In the distance, lit up against the evening sky, is the Roman Coliseum.

“I recall in a not-so-distant past, standing on a balcony with you, talking about you doing the touristy things. My martyrdom had me willing to leave you to explore alone, but since you love me now and all, I figure, why not join you.”

“That so?” My teeth scrape over my lips—over the grin that won’t leave them.