Page 86 of Storm and Sea

“And how will you make the payments? You can hardly feed that rat pack as it is.”

Leo’s neck muscles tightened. “I am ready to discuss an arrangement that will satisfy both parties.”

Alvise’s mouth twisted into a feline smile. “I was hoping you’d say that. Satisfaction is a rare commodity in my circles. Money bores me.” His eyes roamed up and over Leo’s body. “What I crave is beautiful things at my feet.”

Leo’s stomach turned as he imagined them—Alvise’s so-called ‘guests,’ preened and polished like exotic birds in gilded cages, admired but never free to fly. He wondered if Alvise clipped their wings or if they were too terrified to use them.

Alvise approached him, his ice-shard eyes making Leo feel naked. He smelled of rich cologne and musk—undeniably masculine—yet it stirred nothing in Leo.

“Yes. Beautiful things. At my feet.”

He grabbed a section of Leo’s blond hair, twisting it in his fingers, the strands gleaming like threads of gold in the light. With a silver flash, Alvise brought the knife down, cutting the golden lock. Leo yelled, stumbling back, but rough hands restrained him.

Alvise held the golden lock, bringing it to his nose. He inhaled deeply, eyes closing. “Yes, this will do. It’s too bad the red fox doesn’t have a face as pretty as yours.”

“You stay the fuck away from me,” Leo hissed and immediately knew he’d made a mistake.

His cheek slammed into the cobblestone street, and a boot buried itself in his gut. He gasped, but no sound came out as air was forced from his lungs.

“None of that, my pet. I see you need more training. Get him up,” Alvise ordered, and Leo was lifted, hanging limply between the two brutes.

“Look at me, my golden boy.”

Leo kept his gaze on the ground. A moment later, a fist made contact with his cheek, sending a flash of white-hot pain through his skull, rattling his teeth.

“Look at me.”

With tears brimming, Leo lifted his head, meeting that arctic gaze.

“When I say look at me, you say⁠—?”

Leo couldn’t keep the tremble out of his voice and hated himself for it. “Yes, Signore Vincenzo.”

“When I tell you to come to my estate, you say⁠—?”

“Yes, Signore Vincenzo.”

“And when I tell you to use my given name and to get on your knees, you say⁠—?”

Leo’s jaw didn’t move as he ground his teeth, scarcely releasing the words. “Yes, Alvise.”

“Good boy.” He tickled the tip of Leo’s nose with the strand of hair.

Leo fell as the grunts dropped him. He barely caught himself and slumped against the brick wall, hugging his middle. They disappeared around the corner like predators after a kill, knowing full well they’d be back for more.

Leo reached up, feeling the shortened piece where a long curl had been. He fought back the sting in his eyes.

Fuck.

Atreus had outdone himself with the banner above the booth. Not only were the letters spaced evenly and perfectly straight, but he’d also drawn several sea creatures along the edges in bright gold paint. It still baffled her that, despite his immaculate penmanship, he couldn’t read a single one of the words he’d so beautifully written. When she’d asked him about it, he said the words “swam around,” whatever that meant.

But as Marina watched him carefully paint the golden sea creatures, painful memories rose to the surface, twisting her heart until she felt physically ill. The way the bristles slid across the canvas, leaving marks that would remain forever, reminded her of a permanence she’d never known. It was too much.

After a while, she couldn’t take it anymore. She left Atreus to finish on his own, masking her pain with a practiced smile and a nonchalant performance. Not a flicker of hurt showed as she walked away, shoulders steady, masterfully hiding the hurt churning quietly beneath the surface.

Still, she’d been right to put him to the task—the bright banner did its job.

When the flood of kids hit her booth like a scurry of chattering squirrels, Marina could barely catch her breath. One moment, she was overrun, struggling to collect forms and fees; the next, the crowd thinned as the kids dispersed, drawn like moths to the bright stalls selling cakes and candies.