I swallowed the lump in my throat as I watched Zia berate Nero, feeling nauseous. All my memories of being beaten to an inch of my life as training resurfaced. I was glad I had already finished my apprenticeship with Signore Marku and Vincenzo. It was something I wouldn't want to revisit.
And yet Nero agreed to that match as if he was just agreeing to a casual Sunday luncheon.
"What were you thinking?" Zia asked, her eyes red-rimmed. She was all too familiar with her father's prowess and must be feeling the same way I was right now.
"You don't have to worry about anything. I'll be the one fighting, not you," Nero replied.
"I'm not worried about your ass. I'm worried about what will happen after your City knows that my father beat you to a bloody pulp."
I closed my eyes, groaning inter
