“That doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you shit,” he says, tone final. “This isn’t your fight. I’ve been telling you that over and over. You don’t need to worry.”
“All I do is worry,” I bite out. “I stay in this iron fortress unable to move or go anywhere, crippled by fear and anxiety, thinking this man is coming after me. You tell me to let you handle it, and I have—this entire time—and still he slips through the cracks. At this point I feel like I’m just waiting to die.”
It’s unfair—God, it’s unfair—to throw that at him, but I’m exhausted. Raw. Frayed.
I pour the milk into a glass before taking a sip, my hands trembling slightly. Must be the aftershock of the run. I finish it quickly, hoping it settles in my stomach, hoping it steadies me.
“I’m sorry,” I sigh, walking to the counter. “You don’t deserve that. I’m just a little… high on emotion.”
His eyes soften—well, as much as a man like Valerio ever can.
“It’s okay. I understand. This has gone on longer than any of us anticipated.”
I nod, but my heart still feels caged in concrete.
The glass is cold against my fingers. Too cold. My knees quiver, barely noticeable at first, but then?—
What the hell?
“Beatrice?” His voice shifts, low and alert. “Beatrice? You don’t look good at all…”
I try to answer, but the glass slips from my hand. It hits the floor with a sharp crack, the sound splintering through the room as everything tilts. I grab the counter, but the room smears like wet ink. Everything spins—hard—and my legs disappear beneath me.
“Shit…” is all I manage before the floor rushes up.
But I don’t hit it.
Valerio’s arms are there instantly, solid and unyielding. He scoops me up like I weigh nothing—one arm behind my back,the other under my knees. My head drops against his chest, the world narrowing to sound and heat and the thundering panic of his heartbeat.
I try to speak, but my tongue is thick, heavy. My lips move, but no sound follows—like the words dissolve before reaching the air.
“I’m right here. Don’t fade on me.” His voice is distant, muffled, underwater. “Beatrice?—”
My vision blurs completely. My breaths turn shallow, thin and trembling. My limbs completely lose their strength… then go numb. I fall forward into him, helpless, fading.
Valerio.
I can feel the rhythm of his heart pounding beneath his shirt, far too fast. His grip tightens, as if he’s trying to tether me to this world with nothing but sheer will.
“You’re okay,” he keeps muttering, more to himself than to me. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Fuck—stay with me, Bea.”
I don’t know when we started moving, but suddenly there’s the slam of doors, footsteps, sharp orders cutting through the air.
One moment I’m suspended in his arms.
The next, I smell expensive leather and my back hits the interior of a car. He lowers me gently, then slides in beside me, lifting my head into his lap.
I blink up at him.
Valerio’s eyesare stripped bare, fear breaking through the armor I thought was permanent. He sweeps my hair back, his hand cupping my cheek with a gentleness that doesn’t belong to the man I know.
“Beatrice—dammit,stay with me. Do you hear me? Don’t do this.”
I want to answer him. I really do. But the words refuse to form. My head swims. My skin burns. The world tilts.
“Go. NOW!” Valerio shouts.
Tires shriek. The car lunges forward. Streetlights strobe behind my eyelids like snapping camera flashes. His voice barks orders—low, sharp, lethal—but I can’t tell who they’re meant for.
