Page 97 of Tide of Treason
Dragging my gaze away, I exhaled. “Niccolò’s suitcase disappeared, by the way. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
He flicked water at me. “Maybe it walked out.”
“Did it walk out the service elevator? Or did you throw it off the balcony?”
Elio had made a cryptic comment that morning. Something about “suitcases disappearing when men overstay their welcome.”
Lucius’s half-smile confirmed the prophecy.
Yeah. He threw it.
“Oh my God. Lucius. Did it hit anyone on the way down?”
He rinsed the blade. “Not sure. I heard a scream, but honestly, that happens a lot around here.”
Well. No one ever accused him of lacking charm.
I rested my chin on my palm. “And if he’d actually slept in my bed?”
“I would’ve peeled his face off in strips, sautéed it with garlic, and served it to his mother.”
Blink. “That’s . . . specific.”
“She wouldn’t know it was him. I’d caramelise the eyes.”
“Oh.”
It hung in the air. And I hated how something so revolting could also be . . . endearing. Not the cannibalism, obviously. The specificity. The intent. See, the problem wasn’t that Lucius threatened to sauté a man’s face and feed it to his mother. The problem was that I absolutely believed he would do it—for me. For us.
“I’m not a violent man.” His eyes were lazy and dark as he dabbed a towel over his jaw and moved toward me. “I just have violent habits.”
“Mm.” I was getting dizzy. “Coincidentally, I have a few of those too.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” I echoed, my voice threading into something sultry. “But mine come with sequins and an alibi.”
Lucius bent, leaned his forearm on the rim of the tub. Reaching out, his thumb smoothed beneath my chin to coax my gaze up. “You talk a lot of shit for someone who admitted to missing me so bad you couldn’t sleep.”
“If I say yes, does that make you feel big and strong?”
“Whatever makes you think I need that kind of validation from you,principessa.”
Hours later, I found him sitting on the floor, back against the bed, staring at the wall with the quiet intensity of a man holding the weight of a life he never wanted. Without a word, I sank beside him, letting my body fall into the heat of his presence. He drew me onto his lap and buried his face in my hair, inhaling.
I knew what was haunting him tonight.
If he lost, it wouldn’t just be his title on the line. It would be his life.
And I would lose him.
Loss and I had never been on good terms.
So I did what I could. I took Lucius’s face in my hands, kissed him slow and deep, and told him without words that I wasn’t going anywhere. While a single lamp burned above us, I did something worse.
Allowed myself, just this once, the luxury of believing we were safe.
28 | Kayla
