"I took the book," I whisper, my lips brushing against his cheek. "I did exactly what you told me to do, Thayer. I bought the world."
A dark, incredibly beautiful, deeply terrifying smile curves his pale lips. The sheer, unadulterated pride radiating from his broken body is blinding. He looks at me, completely entirely recognizing the monster he successfully forged in his own image.
"My queen," he murmurs, his voice a dark, reverent hum.
I pull back slightly. I reach into the pocket of my blazer and pull out a small, heavy ring of keys I took from Director Campbell’s desk on the way down.
I slide the key into the heavy industrial cuff locking his right wrist. I twist it.
The mechanism clicks. The heavy steel snaps open, completely releasing his massive hand.
I move to his left side, incredibly mindful of his ruined shoulder, and unlock the second cuff. The chains fall away, hitting the floor with a heavy, symbolic crash.
The physical role reversal is absolute. The man who kidnapped me, the man who locked me in a penthouse, the man who built an impenetrable cage around my life, has just been entirely unchained by my own hands. I am no longer the captive. I am his absolute savior.
Thayer doesn't hesitate.
The moment his hands are free, his massive right arm shoots up. His large, calloused fingers tangle brutally in the sleek twist of my hair, completely ruining the perfect style, pulling my face down until our mouths collide.
It is a kiss of pure, desperate resurrection.
There is no gentleness. There is no hesitation. It is a violent, aggressive collision of teeth and heat, entirely fueled by the agonizing terror of the last three days. He tastes like medical iodine, blood, and absolute, unending possession. His tongue invades my mouth, claiming me entirely, branding my soul with the undeniable proof that he is still breathing.
I moan, a high, breathless sound, my hands dropping to grip his shoulders, entirely anchoring myself to his heavy frame.
He breaks the kiss, gasping for air, his chest heaving violently against the thick burn bandages.
"You came for me," Thayer whispers, his pale eyes burning with a dark, psychotic devotion that completely anchors my universe. "You walked into a federal black site for me."
"I told you," I breathe, my thumbs gently sweeping over his bruised cheekbones. "I am never leaving the cage. We go together, Thayer. You do not get to sacrifice yourself for me ever again."
"Never again," he vows, his heavy hand sliding down to grip the back of my neck, holding me completely flush against him.
The heavy steel door of the cell suddenly swings open.
Dante steps into the room, his assault rifle lowered but ready. Director Campbell stands behind him, looking entirely defeated, holding a small medical bag containing Thayer's transport medications.
"Donna," Dante says, his eyes completely ignoring the intense, dark intimacy of our posture. "The transport vehicle is secure. We have a sanitized medical jet waiting at the airstrip. We need to move before the federal shift change."
I pull away from Thayer’s face, but I do not break his grip on my neck. I look down at him.
"Can you walk?" I ask softly.
"For you?" Thayer growls, a dark, lethal fire entirely consuming the exhaustion in his eyes. "I could walk through hell."
I help him sit up. The movement is agonizing. He grunts, his jaw locking, his face turning entirely pale as the torn muscle in his shoulder and the deep burns on his ribs scream in protest. Dantesteps forward, wrapping Thayer’s uninjured arm over his broad shoulders, taking the brunt of the Don's massive weight.
I stand on his other side, wrapping my arm securely around his waist, entirely avoiding the bandages.
We slowly, agonizingly shuffle out of the medical cell.
We pass the federal agents in the corridor. They lower their eyes, entirely subjugated by the sheer, absolute power radiating from the black leather book tucked safely in my briefcase.
We reach the security vestibule. The heavy steel doors open to the humid, smoggy Miami night.
As we step out onto the asphalt, moving toward the waiting black SUVs, a single, dark figure steps out from the shadows of the shipping containers, entirely blocking our path to the vehicles.
My blood turns completely to ice.
