Page 110 of Dance of Deception

My fingers tighten around the leather armrests of my chair, the memory of her whispered words sinking into my bones. I have been calledfarworse—by enemies, by men begging for their lives before I put a bullet in their brain.

It shouldn’t matter.

…It does.

There's no knock before the door swings open. Only one person other than my father would dare enter uninvited.

Sure enough, Nico strides in, relaxed as ever, dropping into the chair across from my desk with his long legs stretched out and a smug expression on his face.

I exhale slowly, dragging my eyes up to him. “Please,docome in, brother. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Fuck.” He grins. “It was great enough being the son of the don. But the brother? That sounds even better. All of the perks,noneof the responsibilities.”

I glare at him. “What the fuck makes you think there won’t be any responsibilities?”

Nico grins. “Second-born, baby.” He winks at me. “I told Bianca years ago that she and I were in the clear with getting pressured into marriage. Then she had to go and fire-bomb Kratos’ car.” He sighs dramatically. “But me, I’ve managed to keep my pyro tendencies in check. Ergo, no forced marriage for yours truly.”

“Just think of all the seven-foot tall Greek men you’ll never meet with that mentality,” I grunt back.

My brother chuckles. “You know, I’ve never been with a Greek girl—at least, I don’t think so. Pity Kratos’ sister Callie is married?—”

“Is there apointto this visit, Nico?” I grunt. “Believe me, I’moverjoyed”—I draw the word out sarcastically—"that your life seems to be so free and easy. Mine is the fucking opposite.”

I turn to glare at the mountain of financial statements on the desk. This isn’t even half of them. Santino, the fucking adding machine that he is, is currently in the weird little office he’s had in the basement of this house since I was six, looking at the lion's share of the Barone empire reports.

Nico spreads his arms, then kicks his feet up and rests them on the edge of the desk. I level a withering stare at him.

“What?” He smiles in amusement. “Youdidtell me to get comfortable.”

“You’re going to learn to get comfortable with just stumps below the shins if you don’t get your goddamn feet off my desk, fucker.”

He chuckles, but at least he takes his feet down.

“I just wanted to stop by and see how my newlywed brother the don is doing.”

I spread my arms, gesturing broadly with a dark look on my face.

“I see,” Nico frowns. “So—lonely at the top. No rest for the wicked. It’s a long way to the top if you wanna rock and roll. All of the above?”

“All of the above,” I sigh.

“Well,” Nico clears his throat. “You can’t be inthatbad of a mood.”

I glare at him. “And why would you say that?”

“Probably the ripped pair of panties under the chaise over there.”

I almost don’t look, in case he’s bullshitting me and just trying to get a reaction. Then my eyes dart over anyway, and a shadow crosses my face.

Fuck.

My little brother snickers quietly as I stand, march over, and pluck the torn thong from the floor, stuffing it into my pocket before I walk back over to my desk and sit again.

“Go ahead,” he sighs. “Tell me it’s not what I think.”

“Nah, it’s probably exactly what you think,” I say dryly.

Nico arches a brow. “Interesting. For a guy who got laid last night, you’re still doing that thing.”

---