NERO’S GAME
But she swallowed it down, and turned her gaze to the screen.
“That's a woman.”
“We’re aware,” Nico said.
Rea’s gaze slid to the chess box. “And that is not a woman.”
“It's a chess piece. Your contribution is invaluable,” Nero said blandly.
She rolled her eyes, then sobered. “Well, it might interest you to know that Marena’s been complaining to anyone with ears that she can’t find her red stilettos. She was slavedriving the maids to find it when I walked in on them earlier. The heels, the ones she calls her ‘killers.’” Rea’s mouth hooked, humorless. “Thought you’d enjoy the poetry.”
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