For a second I remember moonlight on water.A narrow Venetian balcony.A woman panting against my mouth.
The image vanishes before I can fully catch it.
Nico notices the movement beneath my jacket next.
“What’s that?”
“The shoulder holster?” I ask.
Livia goes visibly pale. “Nico.”
He looks up at me with complete seriousness. “Do you have a gun?”
“Yes.”
“Cool.”
Livia pinches the bridge of her nose. “Please stop encouraging him.”
“I’m answering his questions.”
“You are answering them like he’s a junior operative.”
“He asked intelligent questions.”
Nico beams at that.
Something pulls unexpectedly in the center of my chest.
I have no experience with children. Maybe except for Tom. My world has never had room for softness or routine or tiny sneakers abandoned in hallways.
Yet standing here watching this small boy look at me like I personally invented espionage feels dangerously easy.
Too easy.
I straighten fully and glance toward the conference room.
“You’re working in there?”
Livia nods quickly. “Just until noon. Then Piper’s picking him up.”
“Piper?”
“My best friend. She'll be back soon.”
The name registers vaguely.
Event planner. Loud personality. I saw her briefly in the lobby a few weeks ago while she argued with Security about flower deliveries.
Nico wanders closer before Livia can stop him.
He stops directly beside me, his attention fixing on the silver keycard clipped to my belt this time.
“That one’s different.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
