Page 15 of Violent Pawn

For her, I’d get on my knees. I’d be dirt. I’d let her do whatever the fuck she wants if she makes the pain within my conscience disappear.

She better admit to remembering that day. It wouldn’t be fair that she’s able to pretend our past is forgotten when, for me, it’s the central reason behind the liquor cabinet downstairs that staff keeps stocked for my well-being.

“What?” Glass imbedding into my heart and draining it dry would be cozier than her tone.

“Friendly as always, Ana. I can call you Ana, right? Your name’s a bit of a mouthful.” Ana-stas-i-a. Yep, not sure that’s being said in one breath. My eyes rake the little I’m allowed to peek at, where she’s unconcealed by the door—and what’s visible through the drunken distortion—and well…fuck me.

My dick doesn’t always function when I’m this sloshed, but she’s the exact brand of help it needs despite her not-so-sexy death glare that’s more lethal than every gun in our arsenal. Yet it is sexy, at least to me.

Not sure what I expected her to be wearing, but it wasn’t this. In a shirt that clings to her skin and a pair of black panties. She’s braless, her nipples small little points my mouth waters to latch onto. To chase the alcohol with the flavour of her skin. Her legs, lengthy, toned—a dancer’s legs—slip from beneath the shirt.

This is the image I’ll be masturbating to…well, for the rest of my life.

“Only my friends call me Ana, so no, you can’t. Not sure why you’ve come, but I’m calling it a night.” With a prim little sniff, she begins shutting the door, but a quick reflex I’m surprised the liquor allowed me to keep halts the door with a smack. It’s an impressive feat that, surprisingly enough, doesn’t make me stumble.

Just in case, I nudge off the wall and inject my foot into the door’s path, ensuring she’ll have to break a few bones to close it. “Anastasia, then, we need to talk.”

In that haughty way of hers, she looks down on me again, and I decide then that no, I won’t be getting on my knees for her. Rather, I’d like to see what she looks like on hers. Let’s see what she’s like without the stick up her ass, too.

She sniffs again, this time rocking forward. What begins as a compliment shifts into disgust with the twist of her mouth. “You’re drunk.”

“We’re all drunk. You were downstairs.”

“I had a drink. You’re drunk.” With remarkable strength, she tries to shut the door again. I’m reminded of the woman who once stormed this place, gun in hand, vengeance as her cloak.

“Do you remember me?” I debated working up to this, but bourbon has a funny way of foregoing a thought process and doing what it wants instead.

“Nero Amato, Zeno’s second. You were downstairs drinking your face off. We first met when I saved my best friend from yours. I haven’t had nearly enough alcohol to forget you. I’m not sure how dumb you believe me to be.”

That’s a compliment in my world.

But the bigger one is the wall that loses a few bricks. The one she’s built in her gaze and around her body. The one she hides behind but starts crumbling with the flicker of wariness.

Got you.

With the evidence in what she hasn’t said, I laugh so loud, half the house probably wakes, but I also don’t find it in me to care. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“You’re drunk, Amato. You don’t even know what you mean. I only choose to deal with sober people these days, so if you’ll excuse me…”

Amato. I like that. My last name in her mouth sounds right.

Stunning me out of my stupor, she knocks my hand off the doorframe and steps close enough that I’m forced backwards by instinct. Why? I don’t fucking know. Because I’m an idiot. I should be walking into her, not letting her push me back.

The second she steps into the doorway, I’m dazed. Her scent is too welcoming, and paired with the amount of skin I’m still wrapping my fuzzy, alcohol-raddled mind around, clarity is straight out the window.

She grins evilly before slamming the door in my face.

PART 3

PRESENT

SERAFINA’S WEDDING

11

ANASTASIA

After a gruesome twelve hours, I’m piled in the backseat of an SUV with Nero, Dimitri, and Katya, while Vanessa takes the passenger seat beside Zeno, who drives. Lev is remaining at the hospital to be by Serafina’s side after the honeymoon from Hell.