Hope Emily Nightingale

As I guided Nino through the house, the silence grew increasingly awkward. Knowing his preference for speaking only when sharing facts, I hoped he would break the silence. Finally, as we entered the library, he spoke up.

"Wow, your library is enormous."

"I enjoy collecting books of all genres. Feel free to spend time here or take some books to your room."

As the house tour was winding down, I guided him toward the basement, mentioning that it could be used for staying fit.

"Do you want to spar?" Nino inquired.

"Huh? Do you mean you want to engage in hand-to-hand combat?" His lips curved slightly upward.

"Why? Are you afraid to fight someone other than your brother?"

"Bring it on! I'll just get changed into my training clothes."

As I exited the room, I proceeded to my own quarters to retrieve a fresh set of training attire. After changing, I made my way down to the basement. To my surprise, Nino remained stationary, showing no signs of attempting to flee. Clearing my throat to announce my presence, I caught his gaze as we stepped into the fighting ring. Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of irritation swept over me, unmistakably originating from Serafina's emotions. Moments later, I found myself dragged into her head, struggling to maintain my balance and clutching onto Nino's forearm for support.

Serafina stood before a steaming pot of pumpkin soup, with one of the Falcone brothers, likely Savio, seated behind her. He demanded she serve him soup, provoking her irritation.

"If you desire some, you can haul your lazy ass off the chair and fetch it yourself," she retorted, her annoyance palpable.

"I may not be Remo, but I am still a Falcone, and I do enjoy bloodshed. So, mind your tongue." Savio warned, his tone carrying a hint of menace.

Turning his back on Fina proved to be a grave error. Seizing the opportunity, she grabbed the pot of boiling soup and hurled its scalding contents at Savio. He spun around just in time to see it coming, but not enough to evade the cascade of hot liquid. While not causing severe harm, it surely stung. I was completely satisfied with her actions. He deserved that.

Attempting to flee, Fina found herself intercepted by Savio, who grabbed her and forcefully pushed her to the ground. She stumbled, falling onto her hands and knees, unable to escape his grasp.

"That's a very pleasing sight." Savio commented through gritted teeth.

"As long as you admire it from afar."

Remo entered the room, unfazed by the situation. Instead of getting angry, he burst into laughter. Despite the fact that the cleaning staff was scheduled to come the next day, he instructed Serafina to clean up the spilled pumpkin soup, adding to her already mounting frustration. She stormed out of the kitchen and retreated to her room.

Later, I found myself back in my basement, seated on the floor of the fighting ring. Nino knelt down in front of me, holding both of my hands as he called my name. He seemed surprised by how long I had zoned out. After blinking a few times, I burst into laughter. I had sensed that something was brewing when Savio turned his back on Fina, but I never expected her to scald him with a pot of pumpkin soup. I'm pretty sure he's nursing both his wounded ego and his burned up dick.

Nino appeared puzzled by my sudden burst of laughter. He gazed at me for a moment before joining in with a chuckle of his own.

"What's so funny? You seemed lost in thought for a good five minutes there."

"Your brother... he managed to burn his Savio jr." I managed to say between laughs.

I'm sure this is the first time he's seen me so relaxed, but Serafina's antics were just too hilarious to resist.

Nino laughed, then appeared puzzled.

"How do you know that?"

I instantly grew wary of answering. I didn't want him to know about me being a witch.

"I was just in Fina's head. She threw a pot of boiling hot pumpkin soup at him. Remo had the same reaction as you."

I eventually stopped laughing and stood back up, asking him if he was still up for that spar. I wanted to divert his attention from dwelling too much on what just happened. He nodded, and we both assumed our positions for the spar.