Page 70 of Violent Pawn

34

NERO

Serafina’s interruption was a good thing. At least, that’s what I tell myself when I finally make it downstairs, before I see her and react in a way an older brother shouldn’t.

After Anastasia re-dressed in her own clothing and left for her room, I iced my lust in the coldest shower known to man, which did nothing for the erection I’ve been sporting since feeling her soft ass pressed against me.

What a fucked twelve hours. She went from hating me to coming on my fingers. If that doesn’t describe our relationship, I don’t know what does.

Relationship?

We spend the rest of the morning ignoring one another because it’s what the others expect—despite the fact they all seem to know. Vanessa can’t stop grinning. Lev looks outright disturbed. Zeno is a wall of emotion—flat and unbreakable.

When it’s time for them to leave, I drive them to the airfield, sans Vanessa, who decides to remain in Italy to spend more time with Zeno. The drive is silent, and Anastasia sits in the farthest back, leaving Serafina in the passenger seat beside me. She chats about classes and university papers I don’t quite keep up with, which makes me pity Lev all the more.

The flight crew loads their bags while the others head up the stairs to settle. When it’s only Anastasia left, I tug her closer and press a kiss to her knuckles rather than her mouth. “Don’t forget me, Petrov.”

“You’re impossible to forget, Amato. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“I’ll see you in a week for the Bratva celebration. Save me a dance. Actually, fuck it, I’m reserving all your dances.” No other man will touch her now that I’ve had her. Zeno will have to prepare for me to go to war over her on the Bratva’s territory.

She taps my chest as she dislodges from my hold. “Careful. That sounded a bit possessive. You know what that does to me.”

“It puts you in my bed, so I’ll take my chances. Now, go on. They’re waiting.”

She glances at the plane and the movement shown within the small oval windows. “Don’t make me regret this morning. Break my trust, and I may kill you.”

“I promise you won’t regret it.”

She boards the plane, and I wait for the doors to shut before driving off, forcing myself away from the allure of Anastasia that, during this morning, made the appeal of liquor evade me.

Not the thought, nor the craving.

Interesting.

Zeno intercepts me before I’ve even left the vehicle. He shoves me backwards, hissing, “Are you serious right now? So you freak her out last night and then fuck her this morning? Are you trying to get me to hate you?”

“One”—I push him in return—“none of your fuckin’ business. I didn’t get into your problems with Van when you had her locked up here, running around the yard like two maniacs. Two, I didn’t fuck her. We spent the night together. That’s it.”

His brows hike. “We heard you this morning.”

“Didn’t mean we had sex. I pity Vanessa, if you don’t know that much.”

My phone chimes with a specific ringtone I assigned to the particular caller, to ensure I never miss them. “I need to take this. I’ll see you later when you’re in a better mood.”

I stride away, only answering the call from the private investigator when I’m far enough away from Zeno that he won’t overhear the betrayal to his marriage.

Kazakhstan.

That’s where my next victim lives.

I’ll need an excuse to go, so Zeno doesn’t grow suspicious of random out-of-the-country trips.

I have exactly the person to visit—and then detour on the trip to her.

35

ANASTASIA