Page 65 of Violent Pawn

This should be when I admit meeting Nero well before he was a known enemy to her reign. That he once saved my life, and how the present could be shaped differently if he didn’t—if Zeno’s father took me captive. Who the hell knows where or how I’d be now, and it’s a history I don’t want to imagine because there likely wouldn’t be a reality with me still breathing.

When Vanessa turns back around, my opportunity goes with her. Sure, I could call her name, but I could also keep shielding our history and not open another topic she’d avoid her party longer for.

At the edge of the grass, she glances over her shoulder. “If you don’t want to face him, feel free to return to the villa.”

“Your party⁠—”

“Is one of two we’ll live through and definitely isn’t worth your mental health.” She unzips her clutch to retrieve her phone, nails piercing the silence against the screen. “I’ll call one of our guys to take you.”

Even though Zeno equipped this place with enough soldiers to protect a room full of world leaders—which in a way, is what every Capo is; a leader within the criminal underworld—Vanessa still brought a dozen of our guys with us, to solidify the fact we’re not to be fucked with.

She reaches for my hand to help me up and tucks me into her side. “I’ll walk you to the entrance.”

We round the path until the main doors are in sight, where Zeno is leaning, hands in his front pockets. He shrugs off the doorway, wraps his arm around his fiancée’s waist, but gives me the rest of his attention. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Thankfully, one of our soldiers drives a black vehicle up beside us, giving me a reprieve from round two of the unwelcome emotions. “You two enjoy the rest of your night.”

Once tucked in the back seat, the car drives me away from what could be.

If I wasn’t such a coward.

32

NERO

Vanessa immediately follows Anastasia, who takes off for the exit. Zeno wastes no time in giving me the look, which I ignore, heading back to Elio and Gabriella, both of whom are observing the shitshow.

“I quit, you’re it.” I tap Elio’s chest on my way by him to the bar—because I can’t even make it through the one night Zeno requested sobriety without fucking something up.

After ordering a shot of their strongest liquor, I signal for another when realizing one isn’t cutting it. And then another to be certain, downing all three one after the other. My throat, chest, and stomach simultaneously burn, but it’s nothing compared to the other kind of burning in my chest.

A familiar feeling. One I’ve been stuck with for over a decade.

Guilt.

I order a fourth, ignoring the bartender’s uncertain grimace that’ll earn him a punch if he doesn’t do his fucking job and pour it. I’m the groom-to-be’s best man getting wasted right after the bride-to-be’s maid of honour took off—perfectly normal and nothing to be judgemental about.

Zeno’s going to slaughter me, which doesn’t sound too bad, actually. Fuck murdering Elite members to ease my conscience when death by his hand grants the same result.

“Another,” I demand, this time a snarl. “Without the fucking judgement.”

Zeno appears at my shoulder and crowds me against the bar, shoving me into the wood without making our fight obvious to others. “You couldn’t make it one fucking night without scaring her off? Explain why Vanessa had to chase after Anastasia after she was in your arms.” He intercepts my next shot, knocking the glass to the bar top and spilling the liquor, which the bartender immediately wipes up without looking at either of us. “You’re done drinking, Nero. I’m not dealing with this tonight. Get your shit together. That’s an order.”

“Sì, signore.” Rage-fuelled matched by a curl of my lip. A look that from anyone else could be a death sentence due to my lack of respect.

From me, it’s a middle finger to our friendship.

The rest of the evening passes. I remain close to Elio—though I’m pretty sure he’s the one guarding me.

At some point, Zeno disappears as well and returns minutes later with his fiancée.

Anastasia is noticeably absent.

The ride home is tense as fuck. By some cruel twist of fate, I’ve ended up in the SUV with Vanessa and Zeno, while Dimitri, Katya, Lev, and Serafina take the other one. Elio’s driving Gabriella back to Ostia separately.

The bit of alcohol I managed to consume before Zeno single-handedly became my AA sponsor has unfortunately worn off, resulting in a sober drive home with the two people who’d rather see me hung by my toes than hear my stupidity out.

Once at the villa, I rush from the vehicle, ready to escape everyone and everything from tonight.