“You’re safe, by the way,” he added casually. “The gamma and delta won’t come this far out. You can breathe now.”
I didn’t reply. Not yet. My eyes flicked to the window behind him, checking the street for any signs of blond hair and emerald green eyes.
“Vanya,” Nero said again, this time softer, pulling my attention back.
“What happened at Bloodmoon after I left?” I asked again.
Nero leaned in, close enough that I could feel the weight of his judgment in every breath. His eyes scanned me again—disbelief written all over his smug, irritating face.
“First, you tell me,” he started, voice low but sharp, “where the hell have you been living? And why do you look so... decent? So put together? Did a wealthy family adopt you? Or are you shacked up with some guy—someone treating you so well
