Page 48 of The Shadow King's Brother

“I’ll never let you go.”

“I was kinda hoping you’d say that,” she giggles.

That laugh of hers.

She giggles and kisses me, and all I can do is stare at her, a fierce, possessive pride filling my chest.

* * *

The bedroom is still steaming.“Her ‘hell yes’,” lives rent-free in my head, like a melody I want to protect. My throat’s sandpaper dry, and I imagine hers is too.

“Water?” I ask.

Nodding, she slips on silky pajamas that, if possible, make her look even better.

“Yes, please, fiancé,” she grins.

“Done and done,” I groan; her words make my defenses melt.

I pull on sweats, and the cool cotton is a relief. Downstairs, the polished marble chills my bare feet. Mrs. Gambini has been stress cleaning, that’s for sure. I push through the kitchen doors. The usual scent of bread hangs in the air.

To my surprise Vinny sits hunched over the island, crumbs clinging to his stubble, there’s a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. Angelo and a new guard stand sentinel, their faces arre carved from granite. I’m surprised they let him eat a sandwich that close to them with those filthy hands.

Vinny chews, swallows, doesn’t look up. “Couldn’t sleep? Or did your princess keep you awake?” he mumbles.

I ignore him, grabbing two bottles of water. I’m not here to chat. He’s a viper and his company is poison.

“Shut up, Vinny,” I mutter, grabbing some salty snacks.

I’m almost out of the kitchen when he clears his throat.

“Look, Elio. I wanted to say… about. With Nica…” He finally meets my eyes, but they dart away, landing on something just past my shoulder. “I just wanted to fuckin’ apologize.”

The water nearly slips. Apologize? For assaulting her a year ago? I tighten my grip, the plastic crinkling under the pressure.

“Are you joking?”

“No, brother. I’m dead serious.”

He’s lying.

“What changed your mind, then?”

He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “Realizing I’m a fucking ass isn’t enough for you?”

“Hell no,” I say.

His jaw tenses. “I just… felt alone, okay? I got tired of the games, the killing, the—everything.”

The silence stretches between us. Is it a confession, or just another move in the game?

“Apology accepted.” The words taste like acid. A lie. I don’t forgive him.I never will.But I don’t have time for this—I want to get back to Nica. We’re fucking engaged.

He shakes his head. “No. You don’t get it. You don’t have to forgive me. You shouldn’t. No one should.” He doesn’t meet my eyes. Guilt? Or a performance? “Just… just wanted you to know I meant it.”

“You think saying sorry makes it go away?” I hiss.

“I’m not stupid,fratello.Nothing will make that go away,” he replies, finally making eye contact. There’s a strange sincerity in his voice.

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