And I follow, stretching my legs out for him to lock.
Once my ankles are bound I lean forward, but he doesn’t move with me.
Is he not putting the collar on?
The unspoken power in that choice makes my pulse race, and I sense the weight of him even more.
He’s so confusing. It’s clear he has issues, I mean he kidnapped me, killed Sergio, keeps me chained, and treats me like I’m disposable, yet, he’s still gentle, taking moments like this to prove he cares about me.
Then, without another word, he steps back, letting the chains settle, letting me feel the difference between confinement and his protection.
He’s a complete psycho.
The echo of his boots fade, and I’m left standing in the half-light, heart still racing.
Adrian slowly lifts his head, swollen eyes meeting mine. His words come out hoarse, weak, barely more than a whisper. “You… you came back.”
I rush to him as fast as I can, the added weight slowing me only slightly. Kneeling beside him, I brush a bead of sweat from his forehead. “I’m here,” I say softly. “We’ll figure this out.”
His hand surrounds my waist, taking me close and bringing me to his side. He lets his weight rest against my shoulder, and for a moment we sit in a fragile quiet—the danger outside pressing in, the bruises and blood between us.
A thread of understanding passes silently. And somewhere above, Nikolai’s influence lingers, a shadowed reminder that every breath, every movement, every decision belongs, at least in part, to him.
Eventually, Adrian’s bloodied, swollen eyes blink open and lock onto mine. He sags back against the wall, exhaling, his mouth pulling tight. “I… I don’t think I can hold on much longer down here. It’s… getting worse every day.”
“Then let me help. You’ve done more for me than anyone in this place. You shouldn’t have to fight this alone.”
He shakes his head, almost dismissively. “You can’t fix this. You’re… not like them. You can’t—”
“Yes, I can,” I interrupt firmly, letting the edge of my voice leave no room for argument. “I can and I will. My family has resources. Contacts I can use to get you out. But I need your trust.”
His eyes search mine, flickering between hope and the brutal reality of this cage. For a heartbeat, I feel the weight of it all—the danger, the blood, the chains, the men who would kill us both if they suspected anything. Finally, he exhales, shoulders loosening slightly. “Alright,” he mutters, low. “Alright… let’s see if your people are worth a damn.”
A spark of determination flares inside me. “They will be. I’ll make sure of it. Enzo, he’s different. My father doesn’t see it, but Enzo will change the way business is conducted. He will help you.”
We sit close in the dim light, shadows swallowing the corners of the room. The faint hum of the ventilation is almost deafening, punctuating our fragile silence.
I lean in just slightly, careful not to crowd him, brushing dried blood from his face. The gesture is tender, a small rebellion against the brutality surrounding us. He flinches at the touch, then relaxes, and for a moment I see the exhaustion in his eyes give way to trust, fragile but real.
I glance toward the doorway, muscles tightening. Even though Nikolai isn’t there, I feel the weight of his presence pressing against us like a predator in the dark. Adrian follows my gaze, sensing the tension.
“You’re thinking about him again,” he says with concern.
I shake my head. “No. Just… aware.”
He smirks faintly, but the tightness in his jaw betrays the truth: we both know the reach of Nikolai’s control, the danger in a single misstep, and the cost of failure.
“I don’t care about Nikolai right now.” My hand follows the trace of his face, trying to ease his pain. “I care about you.”
Chapter 46
Adrian
It’s strange how a person can crawl into your head without asking permission.
Before Aurelia, this cage was just concrete and silence. Now, it’s still all of that—but she’s here too. And somehow that changes everything. She’s loud when she wants to be, quiet when she knows I need it, and reckless in ways that make me grit my teeth but also remind me I’m not completely dead inside yet.
I catch myself staring at her too often. The way her hair falls across her face when she’s tired, and the way her laugh bounces off these ugly walls. She’s light. That’s what she is. My light in this goddamn dungeon.
