Page 26 of Serpent & Saviors

“And Isabella?”

“Oh, she’s in rare form as well. I don’t think I’ve heard so many doors slam at the house, ever. She packed a bag and is having Mr. Caruso pick her up, probably as we speak. Says she refuses to be home if Kinsley isn’t there.”

“Serves her right. She shouldn’t have spilled the beans about the addition of Pasha’s scar. I think that was what sent Kinsley off to begin with. How many times do you think we’ll need to tell the little pixie that Pasha can take care of himself?”

“The rest of our lives. It’s hilarious. She honestly has no clue. He holds his own. I’d actually like to see him in a more hands-on role with the ones we take to the warehouse. Is that coming soon?”

It was Marcus’s way of asking if Pasha was getting closer to full admittance into the squad.

“I would say that it is absolutely in his future. Probably the next big case the guys get.”

“Well, I leave you to your day. Are you going to have Nan’s driver take you guys back to the hotel?”

“Yeah, I can do that. Thanks, Marcus.”

He took off, and I followed my grandmother and Victoria down the hall. Nan had us put the piano in the formal drawing room. I kept a reasonable amount of distance, content to simply observe them. Victoria carried herself with a fragile strength, and she froze the moment her eyes landed on the grand piano.

“It can’t be,” she whispered, her eyes the size of saucers as she looked at my grandmother.

I cocked my head to the side, intrigued by her reaction.

“Oh, but it is,” Nan said.

She gestured toward it, inviting her to explore its keys. With hesitant steps, Victoria approached. The piano’s polished, burr-walnut surface shone, and the lighting in the room created a soft glow across her pretty face.

The filigree music desk, with its intricate arabesque cut-out design, stood poised, ready to hold a piece of music. Her trembling fingers reached out and traced the contours of the piano’s surface.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

I stood there admiring her as she stared in awe. Emotions danced across her face, painting a picture of longing and nostalgia. I wanted to rip out my phone and take a picture. She was so fucking mesmerizing. Her gaze moved to the ivory keys, each one polished to gleaming perfection.

“Go on, dear, after all, it’s yours. Your grandmother always hoped to hear you play it. Take some time to get reacquainted with it,” Nan said.

She walked over to me as Victoria inched closer. Her hazel eyes, now red-rimmed from her earlier cry, only made me want to take away every ounce of pain she’d ever experienced. My stomach dropped.

Was this what Ivan meant by knowing?

My heart thumped inside my chest. I instantly created a mental list as I tried to rationalize and de-compartmentalize every emotion assaulting my senses.

Victoria’s fingers hovered over the keys, and her eyes closed softly, but not before a myriad of emotions flickered across her face. There was longing, fear, and a deep sorrow. I’d seen that look before.

“Walk with me a bit, Andy.”

Nan took my arm and led me from the room. I wanted to stay and watch Victoria, but Nan wasn’t having it.

“You never asked me why I purchased that piano,” she said.

“No, I figured you had your reasoning.”

“It belonged to that young lady’s grandmother. Elizabeth Laurent and I were childhood friends. She’s the only one who stuck by my side when your mother’s illness came out. Her and her daughter were estranged for many years. We bonded over so many things back then. We kept in touch over the years, Victoria’s grandmother and I.”

I knew from the many conversations we’d had over the years that all of my grandparents’ friends turned their back on them as my mother’s illness raged out of control. It wasn’t easy what they went through.

Mental illness wasn’t something people freely talked about or even understood. Even to this day, many families struggle to have the hard discussions, and there can be stigmatism surrounding it.

If not for Nan’s unwavering love and devotion over the years, I wouldn’t have turned out to be half the man I was. Despite every obstacle life threw Nan’s way, she rose above it all, an anchor in my life and more of a mother than the one who birthed me had been. Before the guys came into my life, Nan was there. She’d always given me a reason to hope.

When I was angry, she was there to calm me. When I was lonely, she was my friend. When I shook violently, coughing, soaking wet, terrified of the woman my grandfather was holding back from me, she was the one there.