Nero

CHAPTER 55

NERO ZANTHOS

The street is quiet— row of cookie-cutter houses and neatly kept verandas. In fact, the entire town seems calm, at least from what I saw on the drive from the airport.

Small shops, family-run restaurants, and houses with white fences are scattered everywhere. I should have guessed Nina would come to Italy, but I was too blinded by my own misery—and by Lysandra’s lies—to see what now feels obvious.

The city she chose, though far from Nina’s and Rosa’s hometown, is still familiar—and most importantly, the language is familiar.

With Nina pregnant and the two of them leaving Khione with nothing, that mattered.

My lips press together, swallowing the bitterness pooling in my mouth, because I deserve it.

“Are we sure she hasn’t been inside this whole time while we’re out here waiting for her to get home?” Drako asks from the back seat.

I stare at the duplex where Nina lives with her mother—and my son. A modest two-story place. Low fences mark the boundary with the sidewalk, and a wall no taller than five feet separates it from its twin.

The walls are a warm beige, the doors and windows a mix of wood and glass. Everything about it is different from the place Nina lived on the island. This town, really, is different.

For one, there’s no sea. Pienza is at least seventy kilometers from the coast. Nina loved the island’s beaches so much. Taking her away from that is another guilt I carry, I suppose.

“We are,” Atlas answers from the driver’s seat beside me. “Nina’s coming back from work. She should be here any minute now.”

I glance at him.

He’s known my son’s routine—and his mother’s—for years. He’s watched them from a distance and helped with everything they needed. I should feel grateful. Instead, my selfishness only allows jealousy and envy. My family became more his than it ever was mine.

“Think she’ll let us in for lunch?” Drako asks. “I’m starving.”

I turn to him, incredulous.

“I’m here, about to live the most important moment of my life, and you’re thinking about food?”

“What? Food matters in big moments too! It builds emotional memory,” he argues.

I scoff and turn back to the street.

I don’t have time to prepare.

The woman approaching at the end of the street stole the breath from my lungs. I stare without blinking.

Nina looks exactly as I remember—and yet different.

Instead of the flared dresses she always loved, she’s wearing jeans and a simple pink T-shirt.

Her dark hair is loose, longer than I’ve ever seen it, and the bangs that once framed her face is gone. Her body has more curves than it did five years ago. And she still walks the same way—with that innocent hint of sensuality.

“Who’s that next to Nina?” Apollo asks.

Only then does my vision widen enough to register the man at my wife’s side.

I frown as I watch them approach. Nina was talking to the stranger with a familiarity that made bile rise in my throat—and when he wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into a hug, I think I’m going to have a heart attack.

Who the hell is this man? Why is he touching my wife? And what am I going to do about it?

Because one thing is certain: this needs to be dealt with. Immediately.

My breathing turns shallow as the image sharpens—both of them smiling—until they reach the opposite sidewalk, practically in front of our car. I open the door and get out.

The sound draws their attention. Nina looks at me.

I wait for a reaction. Any reaction. But she gives me nothing.

A flicker of surprise crosses her face—and vanishes too quickly to read. She ignores me and walks into the house, the man following close behind.

I blink at the closing door, frozen—unable to follow, unable to return to the car. I don’t have a plan. I just stand there, a few steps shy of the street’s center, waiting.

And maybe some angel—or demon—pities me, because minutes later the man leaves the house alone.

He barely reaches the end of the street when I cross the wooden fence, climb the small porch, and ring Nina’s doorbell.

She doesn’t answer.

I ring again. And again. And again. Nothing.

“I know you’re there, Nina,” I say. Silence. Minutes pass. “I saw you come in.”

I lean my forehead against the door and draw a deep breath. The mail slot rattles when my head bumps it, and I pull back just enough to push it open with my index finger.

The view inside is minimal—but enough.

I see her.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say. “If I have to sit on these steps and wait until you need to leave again, that’s fine with me. I can do that.”

“I’ll only speak to you in the presence of my lawyers,” she says, moving closer to the door and speaking through the slot.

Knowing how close she is sends my whole body into frenzy. My heart slams against my ribs.

“Is that what you need?” I ask.

No answer.

I step back from the door, the physical pain of it real, then lean into the car window as Atlas lowers it.

“I need you two,” I say, pointing at the twins.

“And not me?” Drako protests.

“No. Not you.”

He looks scandalized as Atlas and Apollo get out without a word.

We cross the street and step over the fence. When I reach for the mail slot again, the door opens.

Nina holds it from the inside, watching my every move.

“I’m going to kill you, Atlas,” she says, threatening—but my friend only offers her a calm smile.

“Hi, Nina. I’d love to say how good it is to see you—and maybe get a hug. Would you allow that?” he asks, still smiling.

I roll my eyes.

As if it were that easy. As if Nina would open the door just because he—

The door opens wider.

I stare, stunned, as Nina glares at Atlas.

“I still want to kill you,” she says.

He steps forward and hugs her. He murmurs something in her ear, too low for Apollo or me to hear.

“It’s good to see you,” he says louder. “Really good.”

“I don’t know if I can say the same,” she replies—and this time there’s no irony in her voice. “Hi, Apollo.”

“Hi, Nina.” The other Xpanos twin steps in, kisses her cheek, and hugs her.

The need to touch her—to claim the same right they just had—is overwhelming. I want more. Much more.

But now isn’t the time to test my luck.

When Apollo steps away, she finally looks at me.

Air floods my lungs and I gasp as they work at full capacity for the first time in five long years. Her heart-shaped lips press together at my silence, but I can’t break it—only stare and try, obsessively, to remember how they taste.

“They’re not my lawyers,” she says sharply, her tone nothing like the warmth she gave my brothers. “They’re yours.”

“They’re ours. Because I won’t work against you, Nina.”

“Do I need to apologize for not believing you? Or is that unnecessary? I think it’s unnecessary.”

“Ouch,” Drako’s voice rings out behind me. I turn to see him already inside the fence, a few steps away. “That hurt, Nero. And Nina, I can’t believe you were leaving me out of hugging time!”

She laughs.

The sound hypnotizes me.

She opens her arms and hugs him. He whispers something in her ear—again too low for me to hear.

What the hell are they saying?

She rolls her eyes as she pulls back, amused—until she looks at me again and the amusement vanishes.

“We’ll be in the car,” Atlas says.

She gives him a questioning look. He nods silently.

My brow furrows as my friends move away.

Nina’s jaw is set, her stare sharp enough to scare grown men. It probably should scare me too. All I can think is that I don’t know how I survived without this woman.

“I don’t want you here,” she says. “I don’t trust you.”

I nod. I don’t bother being offended—there’s nothing I don’t already know, nothing I don’t deserve. I’m too busy breathing her in.

“I don’t know what you think you’ll get by showing up like this. I can barely look at you without feeling violent.”

Her measured exhale and grim expression make it clear she isn’t exaggerating. And God—she’s beautiful.

“What more could you possibly want from me?” she asks—and doesn’t wait for an answer. “Haven’t you already taken everything?”

She keeps going, her tension obvious, bracing for me to strike back.

I shove my hands into my pockets—insurance against touching her, against sliding my fingers through her hair. I don’t doubt she’d respond with physical violence.

I’d accept it gladly.

“I’m not going to fight with you, Little Fae,” I say.

Her eyes widen. She steps into the doorway and shuts the door behind her, raising a finger to my chest.

“What do you want—me to lose my clean record? Is that the plan? Get me arrested so you can take my son?”

“I’m not going to fight with you.”

“If you think you can come here and steal the peace I worked so hard for, you’re dead wrong!”

“I’m not going to fight with you, Nina,” I repeat.

The words have the opposite effect.

I meant to calm her—offer assurances. Seeing her this angry shifts something in me.

I’ve never seen her like this before. We didn’t have time. And standing here, in front of a Nina who looks ready to breathe fire, all I can think is how absurdly beautiful she is when she’s furious.

“Can I hug you?” I ask.

Her glare sharpens. She clenches her teeth.

“Sure. The day after I swallow three tons of rocks and throw myself into the nearest well.”

“Hypothetically, if I hug you—what happens?”

“Unless you’ve developed masochistic tendencies, I’d advise against trying.”

“I think I’m willing to risk it.”

I can’t hide the smile tugging at one corner of my mouth.

“You think you can live without your arms?” she asks.

For the first time in five long years, I laugh. Loud. Real.

She stares at me, incredulous. Her murderous expression doesn’t waver—but her body reacts. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but I catch it.

Her breathing shifts when that familiar spark flickers between us.

My smile settles in, permanent.

“All right. I’ll try again tomorrow,” I say.

She takes a moment, processing the same thing I felt.

“What time would you like me to come back?”

“Quarter to never works just fine.”

I click my tongue.

“Unfortunately, my schedule’s full then. But we can try any other time between midnight and eleven fifty-nine.”

She closes her eyes, finally accepting that I’m not going anywhere.

“What do you want, Nero? Really—what do you want?”

“Right now? To know if that house is vacant,” I say, tipping my head toward the place next door.

“No. You are not renting the house next to mine!” she snaps—answering the question without realizing it.

She drops her head for a second. When she speaks again, her voice is tired.

What are you trying to get with all this?”she asks—for the first time showing vulnerability.

I realize I was wrong earlier. Nina isn’t exactly the same.

There are lines on her face that weren’t there before. Her shoulders carry a weight I never saw. And there’s an exhaustion in her eyes I wish I’d never witnessed.

Especially one I wish I weren’t responsible for.

That’s why I answer honestly—without shame—even knowing she isn’t ready to hear it.

“You, Nina. You. My son. Our family.”

Her laugh is bitter.

“You’re five years too late, Nero.”

***

I slam the car door and immediately three pairs of eyes lock on me.

“You laughed? You actually laughed?” Apollo asks.

“And now he’s smiling, right?” Drako adds. “You see it too, don’t you? I’m not having some weird hallucination, am I?”

Atlas just watches me in silence.

“Why are you smiling?” Apollo asks warily. “From here it looked like she still hates you.”

“I’m smiling because I’m happy. And yes—she still hates me.”

“Did she hit your head? I didn’t see it happen, but it might’ve happened while I blinked.”

“No. But five years ago my body was torn from my heart—and today I found it again,” I say simply.

Drako and Apollo make gagging noises, clutching their stomachs.

“Oh—and one of you is going to need to rent the house next to Nina’s,” I add once we’re on the way to the town’s only hotel.

“Why?” Apollo asks.

“Because she forbade me from doing it.”

“Well,” Atlas says, raising a brow, “I suppose this is a good moment for you to thank me for owning that house, then.”

“That house?” I ask.

“And Nina’s. And every other one whose owners refused to rent to her because there was no contract.”