My chest tightens again, but this time for a different reason. “Oh, my kidnapper likes me!” I clap my hands together, voice stinging and dripping with sarcasm.
He laughs. “I’m trying to help you, gorgeous. You’d stop being so angry with everyone if your end goal is to make it out alive.”
I don’t reply for a moment, weighing his words. Could I actually make it out of here if I tried a different strategy? Something separate from the plan I’ve had burned into me for the past six years? The risk is insane, but what choice do I have? Maybe Enzo and Elijah were wrong, maybe Nikolai doesn’t want to kill and torture me. Maybe he just sees me as a De Luca, not as some betrayal in their alliance.
“Okay,” I say finally, “You’re right. I’ve been angry and hostile with everyone, and… it’s probably a misunderstanding.”
Probably not, but it’s worth testing the words out loud.
“See? Progress,” he says, a small, approving smile tugging at his lips.
His eyes glint with something almost pleasurable in my compliance. “That’s a better attitude.”
I tilt my head, letting my eyes meet his. “I just—” I feel the heat of embarrassment spike in my stomach as his eyes catch the hard peaks of my nipples through the thin fabric. “I just feel… vulnerable. I mean, look at me.” I gesture to the raw, reddened skin of my arms and chest, the marks and bruises catching the harsh light.
He doesn’t look away. Instead, his gaze travels over me slowly, deliberately mapping every line, every scar, every inch oftension in my body. My chest tightens, and I realize I’m holding my breath.
Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he murmurs, “Yeah, you should definitely be able to convince him to let you live.”
Chapter 36
Adrian
Ivan’s fists find me again. The blows blur together until I can barely see, each one landing as if he’s trying to hammer the thought out of me. My skin stings, then burns, then goes numb. The metallic taste of blood coats my tongue.
Apparently, Nikolai thought I deserved more punishment for touching Ace.
Or Aurelia.
I never know which name to use anymore. She told me “Ace,” but she softened when he called her “Aurelia.” The sound of it turns her from steel to glass.
I want to protect her from him, but who am I kidding? I can’t even protect myself. Nikolai has the power, always will. All I have is the ache in my ribs and the memory of her eyes—those brief flashes of something human in a place that’s forgotten what that looks like.
Still, I feel close to her, even when I shouldn’t.
Ivan cuts through the ringing in my ears. “What did she say to you about her brother?” he spits, his breath sour and hot.
It’s almost funny—he thinks I answer to him. To any of them.
This cage isn’t for Nikolai’s benefit. It’s for Viktor. The Bratva’s idea of justice. But what they call justice, Ivan treats as sport.
He hits me again, harder this time, and a flash bursts behind my eyes.
Ivan has hated me since we were kids, back when we both still believed Nikolai’s power was real. Maybe that’s the joke of it all: we both know his control is smoke and mirrors, but Ivan still kneels to him. Maybe it’s easier than thinking for himself.
I might be bleeding, but I still think. I still want.
And what I want right now is to keep Aurelia out of their reach. Out ofhisreach.
If I can get her to trust me—just a little—she might tell me enough to clear her from this death order. I just need her to look at me the way she did before Nikolai touched her.
Ivan steps back, panting. My head hangs forward, sweat dripping from my chin.
“You’re wasting your time,” I tell him, my words slurred but steady. “You’ll never get her to submit to him.”
His knuckles tighten, and for a moment I think he’ll hit me again. But he doesn’t. He just stares—eyes cold, jaw clenched—and for the first time I see it: fear. Not of me, but of what she might become to Nikolai.
And all I can think is that I have to survive long enough for Aurelia to give me something—anything—to make this mean something.
