Page 152 of Dance of Ruin

“And you, Naomi,” he murmurs, “Were never meant to be a pawn.” He shakes his head. “You’re the fuckingqueen, baby.”

His jaw flexes. He reaches behind him, pulls something out of his waistband, and extends it toward me carefully, like it’s made of glass.

I gasp.

It’s an old, tattered libretto forSwan Lake.

Not just any copy. I know from the way this one’s corners are bent and from the handwriting in faded blue ink on the cover.

It’s my mother’s.

I blink hard, my throat tightening up so fast it’s painful.

“I—I thought this was gone,” I breathe.

“It was,” he says quietly. “I got it back.”

I look up at him. His expression doesn’t waver.

“Your demons won’t be bothering you anymore,” he murmurs quietly.

There’s just enough finality in his tone to make it clear what he means. When I look down and see the flecks of red on his knuckles, it’s even clearer.

The air goes still around us as I take the score gently from him.

“Whatever you think of me,” he says quietly, “whatever you think of the things I’ve done—just know this.”

His eyes turn a piercing, luminous crystal blue.

“I love you, Naomi.”

Just like that.

No fanfare. No teasing. No games.

Just words that drop like a heavy stone into water, sending ripples to the shore.

He nods his chin once. Then he turns as if to leave.

“Nico…”

He freezes the second my fingers wrap around his wrist gently to stop him.

He turns back to me, and the look in his eyes is enough to break me.

“I love you, too.”

I barely get the words out before he surges into me, wrenching me tightly into his arms, grabbing my jaw possessively and kissing me furiously. I kiss him back fiercely, desperately, all the ache I’ve been holding in for days releasing like a dam crashing down.

33

NICO

This isn’tthe morgue front desk guy’s first rodeo.

As soon as I slide the thick envelope of cash across the desk, he drops his eyes, turns around, and hits a button on the security feed, reversing it about thirty seconds before he hits stop.

“I can pause the cameras for twenty minutes before the outsourced tech support figures out something’s wrong and sends an officer,” he grunts.

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