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“If she hates it so much, why doesn’t she leave? Ask yourself that.”
“I asked her, but he’s threatened her and her friends. She had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice. Get out of there and we’ll pass it on to the local beat for DV. They can pick it up.”
“He’s got the police in his back pocket. She’ll never talk to them.”
“I don’t care. Nero, she’s not our problem. Get out of there. I’m pulling you.”
I disconnect as Tessa wanders into the kitchen. “Good morning,” she says, smiling shyly. I pull her to me, grabbing her arse in my hands and kissing her.
“Don’t act all coy with me. I’ve seen you naked,” I tease. She giggles, and it warms my heart. “Get dressed. I’m taking you to breakfast, and then we’re celebrating your birthday just like we planned yesterday.”
* * *
We have breakfast in a small deli in central London. It’s good to see Tessa eating so well. She’s slowly gaining weight and she looks amazing for it. I pay the bill while she goes to the bathroom, then I step outside to wait for her. “You ignored me,” snaps Callie, marching over.
I glare at her. “What the hell are you doing?” I hiss, glancing inside the deli to make sure Tessa isn’t coming out. “You’re breaking every fucking rule by being here.”
“I’ve pulled the plug on this, you have to step away.”
“I told you, I can’t just walk away.”
“You don’t have a choice, Nero. I’ve spoken to the chief, and he’s in agreement with me. You’ve gotten in too deep. This is a direct order.”
“Bullshit. I’ve done this a thousand times and walked away. I’m the inside, I know when the right time is, and it’s not now.”
The door opens, and I groan. Callie turns her back, but it’s too late, Tessa’s spotted us. Then she does something unexpected—she throws her arms around Callie and begins to sob. “Oh my god, Callie, it’s really you.” Callie avoids eye contact with me. “I didn’t know if you were dead or alive or—”
“You know each other?” I ask.
“She was one of my friends that I told you about,” Tessa says through her tears. “How do you know each other?”
I arch a brow for Callie to explain, and she turns to face Tessa, unhooking her arms from around her. “Tessa, long time,” she mutters, smiling tightly.
Tessa wipes her eyes, nodding. “I’ve thought about you so much.”
“I’m in a rush to get to work. Great to bump into you, Nero. Nice to see you again, Tessa.” And then she rushes away.
Tessa stares after her, frowning. “How do you know each other?”
“I used to work with her. Come on, on to the next surprise,” I say, grabbing her hand and pulling her in the opposite direction.
TESSA
I’ve never been clothes shopping. Dante always bought my clothes, usually a size too big. I stare at myself in my bedroom mirror and take in the outfit that Nero insisted on buying for me. The jumpsuit fits well, hugging in at the waist to give me a figure I didn’t know existed. I smile as I lightly run my fingers over the delicate necklace he gave me while we sat in the park and enjoyed a picnic. I wish I’d met Nero all those years ago, because now, it’s too late. Dante will be home tomorrow, and I have a plan that I need to carry out before he returns. I take a deep breath and release it slowly. I have tonight, and that’s all I’m going to think about right now.
As I descend the stairs, Nero is standing by the door, staring down at his mobile phone. He looks up and smiles wide. “Wow, you look hot.”
I blush at his compliment as his appraising eyes take me in. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
He does a slow spin to show off his shirt and jeans. “Thank you.” He hooks out his arm for me to take. “Let’s get you wasted on tequila and beer.”
* * *
The only bars I’ve ever been in are the ones run by Dante or his friends. They’re the kind where dangerous men hang out and everyone knows everyone else.
So, when we enter a bar in central London with twinkling fairy lights and bright décor, I gasp out loud. It’s beautiful, and there’s not one dangerous-looking gangster in sight. I relax instantly, and Nero leads me to the bar. “I want to open up a tab,” he tells the bartender, handing over a bank card. “We’ve booked a booth, number ten,” he adds. The bartender nods, handing him an electronic device, and then he leads me over to a booth.
