Nero chewed slowly, deliberately, then swallowed. A tiny, triumphant smile curved his lips—small enough that only someone who knew to look for it would see it. He reached for another piece without hesitation this time.
Anita leaned closer, voice conspiratorial. "You're doing great, Nero. Look at you—big boy with a big appetite."
Nero's cheeks flushed pink, but he didn't duck his head like he used to. Instead, he glanced sideways at his father, testing.
Gotti's voice came low and warm, rough around the edges the way it always got when emotion caught in his throat. "You don't have to whisper anymore if you don't want to, little star. Not here. Not with us."
Nero froze mid-bite, fork hovering. His wide eyes darted between his 'parents', then back to the pancake as if it might give him courage. After a long heartbeat, he set the fork down very carefully, wiped his sticky fingers on the napkin Anita had tucked into his collar, and looked straight at Gotti.
