Page 117 of Dance of Madness

“What I just told you, no one else in the world knows,” he murmurs. “Don’t spread it.”

I shake my head, my hands reaching out impulsively to cup his face, like I need to touch more of him, be nearer to him.

My brows furrow. “You never told?—?”

“I never toldanyone,” he murmurs. “Not my parents;nobody. Except you.”

His cock throbs between my inner thighs. I whimper quietly as he grips my ass and lifts me up, letting the thick, swollen head of his cock push between my lips.

“Wait, Nero, can we just talk?—”

“I don’t want to wait,” he chokes. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

His eyes lock with mine, and suddenly I'm drowning in the sadness and fury that swirls like green venom inside them.

“Milena,” he rasps through clenched teeth. “Right now, I want to feel something that makes me forget that. I want to think ofyou.” One of his hands slides up my back, wrapping my hair around his fist. “Think you can do help me do that?”

“Yes,” I choke, my heart breaking and melting at the same time as I lean in and press my forehead against his. “I can do that.”

“Thank you.”

My head tilts to the side as I press my lips to his, kissing him deeply, sinking down onto him.

I can do that.

23

MILENA

“I’msoglad we could do this, Milena.”

I feel the exact opposite, motherfucker.

Still, I smile—not a genuine one, but a degree or two north of an utterly fake one—at Leo across the small bar table.

Obviously, this wasnotmy idea. But Uncle Levka ambushed me when my head was still in the clouds after coming back from seeing Nero. He even had my father unwittingly in on the ambush too.

Apparently, both Leo and his father Vladimir reached out to Levka once again, trying to impress upon him the benefits of a deal between our families. My uncle felt that it was worth it to at least play ball with the Debolskys, even just to see how we might benefit from Vladimir Debolsky’s newfound power given his seat on the Russian Aviation Council.

Papa—horrifically—agreed.

Of course, he was quick to take me aside and assure me, repeatedly, that in no way shape or form did he want me to evenentertain the idea of marrying Leo; that I wasnotbeing “married off for politics”; and that he just feltImight be the best member of our family to feel out via Leo what any such deal might look like.

So that’s why I’m here at a swanky midtown bar, having drinks with the guy.

Well,I’mhaving a drink—a real one, that is. But just the one. No way am I getting drunk around Leo after that mess in the Hamptons. I don’t care if he’s sober now.

Leo, meanwhile, is on his fourth virgin Arnold Palmer, sucking down the lemonade/iced tea combo like he needs it to survive.

Maybe sugar is his new alcohol.

“I’m always happy to talk business as it relates to my family,” I say with another half-smile. “I hear your father is really making waves on the Aviation Council.”

Leo giggles—legitgiggles—as he drains his fourth glass and flamboyantly signals the waitress for a fifth. Then he turns back to me, face flushed as his eyes lock with mine.

“Yes, it’sveryexciting. My father’s worked hard to establish our network both here and back in Moscow. And with this new position?” He whistles loudly. “Fucking hell, it’s a license to print money.”

I smile a bit more genuinely this time. “That’s…incredible. Congratulations, Leo. That’s really?—”

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