Page 145 of Violent Pawn

“Mm-hmm. Since you didn’t let me do you against the building behind us, we can experience ancient Rome the right way.”

“And then we hunt?”

“And then we hunt.”

70

NERO

At the doorway, I kick off my shoes before she yells at me for tracking dirt through it, as I’ve learned is a huge issue.

She’s spinning, stretching, and making motions with her arms I should probably learn the terms for. Her reflection displays her eyes being shut, which works for me.

Keeping my steps as quiet as possible, I reach her without warning. My heart thrums quicker at my success when my hands wrap her hips, making her squeal as I tug her against me. Her eyes fling open, the familiar look of guilt darkening them but shaken off by her next breath.

“Why,” I growl in her ear, sliding my hands up her sides until my fingers brush the underside of her breasts, covered by stretchy material, “are you not in your bed, where you promised you’d be?”

“I need to practice. My performances will slip if I don’t. Between healing and then hunting, my ballet needs to be a priority.”

I nearly groan aloud at the memory of us hunting the four remaining rapists. It was a side of Ana I’d only heard about but have yet to have the pleasure of seeing. Watching her torment them after capturing them, the moment in her club’s basement with that one guest so many months ago is nothing compared to her viciousness when she really unleashes her hatred.

After the first kill, I didn’t wait until returning to the hotel that night before fucking her, unable to go a single second longer without being inside her. Reminding her that no matter their begs and pleas, or their sick recounting of the past, she’s here with me. She’s safe. She’s no longer her father’s pawn.

She’s no one’s pawn, not even mine.

Fuck, if anything, I’m hers because I’d do anything for the maddening woman who stole my heart, mind, and sanity.

I’d like to say it was only the first kill, but no, it was all four. She got crueller with them, more vicious. Stronger. She reclaimed the stolen parts of her, only returned by their screams and later the light fading from their eyes.

“Isn’t that more reason to rest? Your body might still be tired.”

“But it’s not.” In the reflection, her lips pull into a smirk. “If I take more time away, my muscles will hate me more than they already do. I’m not fragile.”

“I’m aware you’re not. You’re the strongest person I know.” I squeeze her harder, proving all the other ways she’s strong too. “No one else could have done what you did.”

Horrors momentarily flick over her expression, pulling her into a shadowy part of her trauma. We spoke a lot about trauma after the fourth and final kill, that despite being at a nightmare-free place, the possibility these murders would dredge it up.

It gave me the chance to prove I was the safe person in her life, someone she could trust with everything, especially her history. To never do what they did.

I reach up to tug her hair from the messy bun she’s folded it haphazardly into. It sends strands down over her shoulders, which I then move to the side to bare her skin.

“I meant it, cara mia. You’re as strong as fuck, and I’m honoured to be the man you’ve chosen to stand beside you and take life on with you.”

“I’m the lucky one.” She slides a hand up my arm and up around my head until tangling with my hair. “You’re my everything, Nero.”

“You’re my soul.” My lips press into her skin once before spreading in a smile. “But I’m still irritated you’re not resting. If you’re so insistent on being up and moving, have you stretched today?”

“Obviously. My outfit, the location—none of that gave it away?” She gestures to the light sheen of sweat covering her, which implies she’s been here for a while. “I always stretch before working out. You should know that by now.”

“Good.” It’s a whisper in her ear that causes goose bumps to spread on the back of her neck.

My hands slide from her waist up to over her breasts, her nipples hardening through the thin material of the leotard. I pass over them again, then pinch, earning a low breath while she remains upright, gaze locked onto our reflection.

“Time to stretch for me. Show me how you do it.”

I dip without warning, sliding a hand around her knee to hoist her leg up and straight, positioning her ankle over the barre. Her natural balance has her instantly shifting her other foot to remain steady, but it doesn’t dull the dagger gaze she narrows at me.

“This is supposed to prove what?”