Chapter 23

My knee bounced impatiently as Solomon went over every detail of what Vanya had informed me. Should I be listening to the words coming out of his mouth? Probably. But my room was a few floors above Sol's office, and I could hear the water groaning through the pipes in the wall. All I could think about was getting the hells out of here, so I'd catch Milla before she could put her clothes back on.

I sat with my heel propped on a knee in front of Sol's desk, desperately trying to hide the raging erection that was impossible to conceal thanks to the unforgiving cut of my pants. "Anything else you needed from me, Uncle?"

"Fran and the others say they will contact the families tomorrow morning. We'll also need to make a statement, something to send to the OIC, now that we have officially broken every law in the book."

"A little rebellion is healthy for society," I clipped. "I'll get it done."

"Do you need anything from me?"

As much as I wanted to deny his help, I couldn't. There was plenty of work to be done. "I need to speak with Sabina. Two descendants we liberated from the prison that claimed they were looking for a woman named Rosa Bianchi. I have them set up in a monitored apartment on East End."

"Rosa Bianchi was her mother," he said. "She died several years ago. Why is that important?"

"Because they're from the Continent."

Sol stopped whatever he was writing and quietly placed the pen down. "The Continent? How did they—"

"Avoided the worst of the storms until they happened across the island prison, mistaking it as the mainland. Probably so desperate to get off the boat. How long did Nonna say the trip was?"

"A couple of weeks, but the ships weren't as efficient as they are now. It's hard to say."

I nodded, pocketing his estimation for later. A quiet stretched afterwards, and I stood from the chair.

"Now about Regulus . . ."

A weight threw me back in the seat. "What about him?"

"I hope you're not planning on trying to infiltrate the Watch to get him back. You know he's already dead or soon will be."

My hands clenched around the armrests. "No. I have no plans to rescue him."

He looked relieved, shutting his eyes briefly. "I wouldn't put it past you, Nico. So like your father in that way. A trait, I admit, I have tried and failed to purge from you."

"Why?" I asked, now glued to my chair. It was a question I'd wanted to know for years after sensing the dredge of his influence constantly tamping down my ambition.

Solomon licked his lips, looking at something he had written on his pad instead of my face. "Your father, before he went to the bridge that night, he'd said something very strange to me before he left, and in hindsight I should have taken him more seriously. He told me if by some miracle you got out of prison, that you wouldn't be the same boy who left this home. That you would come back dark and twisted, angry and vengeful. He begged me to not let you turn out like him."

"My father wasn't any of those things—"

"He didn't let you see how the attacks on your mother and sister affected him. And when he lost you—" Sol's voice broke, and his throat convulsed. "He knew he lost you because he was so obsessed with the past and making it right by making the Niners pay for what they did to his family. He had no hope left for himself, but he still had some spared for you."

He leaned forward on the desk, looking me in the eye. "I know you think I go out of my way to be hard on you, even more so than my own sons. But he made me promise to look after you, Nicolai, and I will not let my brother down again. I failed him, but I will not fail you."

My tone softened. "You never failed us, Uncle, and you don't have to worry about me anymore. I don't care about avenging the past. Camilla is my future, and our future is what I fight for. Nothing outside of her is a priority."

A smile flashed across his face. "Then you better marry her properly, Nicolai. None of this contract business. It's what your mother would have wanted."

"Don't bring my mother into this, Uncle." I rolled my eyes but smiled. The thought of Camilla in a long dress in front of the family, Nonna's ring on her finger as we spoke vows of forever, the formality of it all made my heart fill with air and soar in my chest. "Milla deserves something grand, and I cannot give her that yet. Not with the world as it is."

"But soon?"

I stood, uncomfortable speaking with him of all people about it. I made plans for us on my own, but what Milla wanted was more important than anything. "Of course. If that's what she wants."

"Well, that will please your grandmother, so I appreciate it." He sighed. "But I've kept you long enough. I'm sure you're tired from the day's events. Get some rest." With that, he resumed his writing, and I could escape—what was left of my arousal completely wasted.

By the time I made it back to my—our room, Milla was fast asleep on top of the covers in the bed, wearing a silky emerald night shift completely impractical for the wintertime. Her wet hair was a dark knot on top of her head, her face soft from sleep. As tempted as I was, I didn't dare wake her. It was her first night in a real bed in months, and we'd gone through a lot just to be here tonight.

Unfastening my belt, I stripped down and slipped into bed beside her, pulling the heavy blankets over us both. She roused under the added weight of the sheets.

"Nico?" she murmured. "Are we still—"

"Go back to sleep, Milla. I'll have my way with you sooner or later."

She smiled without opening her eyes and buried her face in my chest. For the first time in months, I shut my eyes and sleep found me like a blessed reunion.

For the first time in months, I slept.