Chapter 96 The Tattoo
Lila POV
A restless mix of nerves and curiosity twisted low in my stomach, rising and falling in uneven waves. Still, the moment we stepped into the bedroom, all of that shattered.
I stopped dead in my tracks a stranger stood near the window, positioned beside a long table that hadn’t been there before. My chest tightened instantly, instinct snapping to attention. I didn’t know him and I didn’t like that he was in a place that was supposed to feel safe. I turned sharply to Nico just as he shut the door behind us. “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice tight despite my effort to stay calm.
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, a faint smile tugged at his lips, calm and unreadable as always then the man by the window turned around.
“Nico, my man. It’s been a while.”
Nico gave a small nod. “It has.”
My body tensed automatically then Nico’s hand settled against the small of my back, grounding me.
“Lila,” he said calmly, “this is Micky. My tattoo artist.”
The tension inside me loosened instantly, though not completely. Relief swept through me in a slow exhale, tattoo artist that was all.
After what had happened before after the night Nico’s brother tried to violate me before everything ended in blood and gunfire, I couldn’t handle strange men in enclosed spaces. Micky stepped forward and extended his hand. “You must be Lila nice to finally meet you.”
I hesitated only a fraction of a second before shaking it. “You too.”
His grip was firm but not aggressive still, I pulled my hand back quickly. “So,” Micky clapped his hands together with a grin, “are we ready to do this?”
My brows pulled together. “Do what?”
I glanced at Nico, but he ignored my question entirely and walked toward the table like he hadn’t heard me.n“Do you have the designs I asked for?” he asked casually.
Micky moved beside him. “Yup. One king and queen set, just like you wanted.”
A cold prickle ran up my spine. “Excuse me,” I called, louder this time.
Both of them looked at me. “What exactly is going on?”
Micky’s eyes slid to Nico, narrowing slightly. “Wait… she doesn’t know?”
Nico’s expression didn’t change. “No.”
Micky let out a low curse and dragged a hand over his bald head. “Of course she doesn’t damn it.” He looked back at Nico. “You sure she’s going to be okay with this?”
Nico barely spared me a glance before focusing on the sketches in his hands. “She will.”
My patience snapped. "Okay with what?” I demanded, anger threading through my voice. I hated being shut out.
Nico calmly placed the sketches back on the table and removed his jacket when he turned back to face me, he began rolling up the sleeve of his right arm with slow, deliberate movements. “You and I are getting tattoos,” he said simply.
“We are what?” I choked out. Micky immediately started circling the table, muttering curses under his breath like this whole situation was a disaster waiting to happen.
Nico pulled out a chair and sat down, resting his arm on the table with complete composure. “Sit down, Lila. I’ll go first.”
My pulse spiked. “Nico, I am not getting a tattoo.”
“Yes, you are.”
The certainty in his voice made something cold settle in my chest. “Give me one good reason why I should,” I shot back.
His head snapped toward me and that was all it took those dark eyes locked onto mine, heavy with warning. Authority rolled off him in crushing waves, pressing down until it felt hard to breathe and his look said everything that I didn’t have a choice.
Swallowing hard, I moved slowly and sat on the edge of the bed, my nerves tightening with every step. I loved tattoos but on me?
Never.
I had never wanted that. I stayed silent as Micky began preparing Nico’s arm. He shaved the inside carefully, dragging the razor across his skin in slow, precise strokes.
My stomach clenched razor and skin.
Each careful movement made my heartbeat quicken. The muscles in Nico’s arm shifted subtly under his olive skin, veins rising beneath the surface. Strength lived there quiet but undeniable the razor caught the light, flashing silver with every motion and suddenly, a dark thought slipped into my mind.
What would it feel like, if I were the one holding the blade?
If I were the one with power?
My breath hitched at the thought.
I imagined pressing the razor down harder. Just enough to break perfect skin and watch red bloom beneath the surface.
After everything Nico had done to me and everything I had let him do, I had never once wondered what it would feel like to reverse it. To hold control and to make him vulnerable.
Would I like it?
The image sharpened in my mind before I could stop it, thin line of blood forming, my chest tightened.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Heat crept up my neck as I realized something else, Nico was watching me and I could feel it.
His gaze was heavy, knowing, like he could read every twisted thought flickering behind my eyes like he understood exactly what I was imagining., shame hit me fast and sharp and I looked away immediately.
I was the one who bled not him. It had always been my pain, my wounds, my blood that fed the darkness. Not his.
Micky movement dragged me back to reality. He wiped alcohol over Nico’s freshly shaved skin, the scent sharp and clean in the air then soap and a stencil pressed carefully against his arm.
I leaned forward slightly, curiosity pulling at me despite everything when Micky peeled the paper away, I only caught a glimpse of faint purple lines.
“You good?” Micky asked, tossing the stencil aside. Nico lifted his arm and studied it silently before giving a short nod, Micky chuckled. “Still a man of few words, huh?”
The buzzing deepened and black lines began to form slowly, deliberately tiny beads of blood welled up where the needle pierced, only to be wiped away seconds later.
I didn’t think about the pain because pain didn’t scare me anymore, it fascinated me.
The realization made something cold twist in my chest, what kind of person did that make me?
Time stretched, slow and heavy nearly an hour passed as I watched everything.
When Micky finally finished, he cleaned the area carefully before applying ointment and wrapping the tattoo in protective dressing. Then he clapped his hands together, “And that’s number one done,” he said brightly then his eyes slid toward me with far too much amusement. “Next lady ready for a shave?”
I narrowed my eyes at him instantly before I could respond, Nico stood and stepped aside from the chair, his gaze locking onto mine.
“It’s your turn, Lila.”