Page 115 of Desperate Crimes
“Son,” Nico Fury Sr. steps forward, his presence rippling through the room like the hum of distant thunder. He gives me a single nod—measured, dangerous.
Like father, like son.
“Adrik, what’s going on here?” he asks, tone deceptively casual.
My father doesn’t answer right away. He’s still staring at Nico. At me. At us.
The storm in his eyes is building fast. But then he speaks, tight-lipped and cold.
“I just asked Junior and Leanna to join me in my office.”
Nico Fury Sr. doesn’t blink. He’s already moving.
“I think we’ll come too.”
There’s no room for refusal in his voice.
Just like Nico’s.
Just like mine will have to be now, if I want to survive in this family of kings and killers.
Dad nods slowly.
My mother exhales sharply through her nose, eyes fixed on my hand still wrapped around Nico’s arm.
And then—Nico lifts our joined hands.
Slowly. Deliberately.
Like a declaration.
Like a dare.
The chandelier light catches on the stone he placed on my finger this morning.
A custom-cut blue diamond, cool as ocean fire, set in a twisted platinum and gold infinity band.
It glints like a secret whispered into a storm.
Or a promise made in blood.
My father's gaze drops to it. His pupils flare.
First, he looks at my face.
Then at the ring.
Then at Nico.
I swear I feel the very air shift.
A low, rolling crackle of something ancient and inevitable.
Like the moment in a Greek tragedy when the chorus falls silent, and the Fates tighten the thread.
Or when Demeter demanded Hades return her daughter.
I’m not ready for what comes next.
