Page 72 of Dance of Madness

I sigh, turning to go find Evie. Suddenly, I freeze when I see it.

Not on a shelf.

…In Laz’s hands.

He’s leaning against the edge of a bookcase in the corner, flipping through a battered copy of it. It’s notthecopy, I can tell from here, but still.

I stop mid-step. Laz looks up, eyebrows raised. “You okay?”

I stare at him, then the book. My throat works. “Uh, yeah…” I chew on my lip and nod at the book in his hands. “Have you read much Goethe before?”

He holds it up. “Oh, for sure.” He shrugs. “I actually love this one. It’s one of my favorite books. Sad, but great. Weirdly, it also perks me up when I’m in a slump?”

He goes back to his reading, like it’s nothing.

My thoughts are spiraling.

My pen pal loved that book, too. He said it made him feel like he wasn’t alone in his worst moments.

My pen pal also told me his family was mafia. He said he had a younger sister. That he didn’t sleep much, and that the night felt more honest than the day.

My nerves are suddenly jangling.

Laz’s family is mafia. He’s got a younger sister, Galina, at Knightsblood right now.

He’s a notorious night owl and insomniac.

My gaze flicks to his eyes.

They’re fuckinggreen. I’ve seen his eyes a million times, but never noticed it before.

I feel dizzy.

For four years, I’ve been fuckingcertainit was Nero.

But what if I’m wrong?

“Milena?” Brooklyn calls from the front. “Come on, we’re going to hit Maison Aurore down the block.”

I blink. Laz is already tucking the book under his arm like he’s going to buy it. The moment passes, like it never happened.

I nod in a numb haze and fall in with the others as we exit the shop. The sun’s getting lower, the breeze a little cooler now.

Brooklyn grabs Evelina’s hand and leads the charge like she’s storming Normandy. I follow behind them, quiet.

Thinking.

Spiraling.

Unsure what cracked open in my chest when I saw Laz with that book just now.

What if the man from the warehouse that night wasn’t Nero at all.

What if it was Laz.

Green eyes. Tall. Gorgeous. Charming. Mafia family. Younger sister. Reads Goethe.

I feel myself tingling as I glance at him out of the corner of my eye as he walks next to me, talking to Bane about who-knows-what. I stumble when he suddenly glances at me, his brows knitting.

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