Page 199 of Safe Word

I remained composed. ‘Do you want a demonstration?’

A pause. Then another slow nod, as if he were mentally checking off boxes.

‘Ever killed someone?’

I let the silence sit. Let it breathe.

Just as I was about to respond, the damn Pomeranian decided to rear up on its tiny twig-legs and sniff the air between us in a small plea to scratch it.

My eyes averted downwards. I stared down at it. It stared up at me.

Exhaling through my nose, I turned my gaze back to the uncle. ‘I’m getting there.’

The corner of his mouth ticked – the only betrayal of emotion. Amusement? Approval? Hard to tell.

He leaned back then, still watching me. ‘No need to be scared of the pup.’

‘I don’t fear things that fit in my palm,’ I deadpanned.

And because karma hated me, the little bastard jumped straight into my open hand.

I grimaced.

Not exactly the most menacing look I’d ever pulled off. And, of course, that was precisely when Paula walked in.

The chatter in the room died instantly as the women pooled in.

And stared.

At me.

Then they stared harder.

Gianna, the eldest, smirked like the devil herself. The younger, a teenager with too much confidence, took one look at me holding the dog like an idiot and fucking melted.

Paula’s aunt, a sharp-eyed woman who had clearly ruled this household with an iron fist, propped against the doorframe and said smoothly in Italian, ‘Well, isn’t your better half handsome, Paula…’

I lifted a brow, unimpressed, but then offered a small, socially-accepted smile.

Paula slid beside me onto the sofa. I caught her by the waist with one hand, startling the rat-dog enough that it yelped and leapt off, then pulled her closer in one smooth motion.

The women shared glances – shock, amusement, even something approving.

The uncle?

Did not approve.

Just to add to the moment, I spread my hand wide over Paula’s knee, fingers resting possessively. I met the old man’s stare head-on.

He cleared his throat. Loudly, as if trying to make sense of whatever the hell just happened. The women settled into their seats, still throwing glances between Paula and me as if we were some kind of live-action soap opera.

‘It’s best if Paula stays with us,’ the uncle finally said.

‘She stays with me,’ I said without missing a beat.

Paula tensed, shooting me a look that promised death.

Her uncle’s jaw tightened. The air thickened.