"Yes."
No defense. No excuse. Just that single word, heavy with truth.
"I'm a monster." He says it quietly, still facing the window. "I've done things you can't imagine. Hurt people. Killed people. And I told myself I'd never drag someone innocent into this life." A bitter laugh escapes him. "But then you walked in with your singing and your fierce little girl and your goddamn goodness, and I... I couldn't let you go."
He turns back to me. His dark eyes are hollow. Haunted.
"Maybe this is how I love." The words sound like they're being ripped out of him. "Maybe I don't know how to do it without caging the thing I want. Maybe I'm too broken to?—"
"Stop." I hold up my hand. "Just... stop."
Silence falls between us. Heavy. Suffocating.
I think about the past few weeks. The way he looked at me. The soft moments in the dark. All of it tainted now by this truth—he built our relationship on a lie.
Jack lied to control me.
Nico lied to keep me.
Different motivations. Same result.
"I hate you." The words come out steady. Cold. "I hate you for manipulating me. For making me think I was choosing you when you'd already taken my choices away."
His jaw tightens. He doesn't argue. Doesn't defend himself.
Somehow, that makes it worse.
"You talk about Jack like he's a monster," I continue, my voice cracking. "But at least he was honest about what he was doing. He wanted to own me and he made that clear. You?" I shake my head. "You made me think I was falling for you freely. You made me believe this was my choice."
"Kristen—"
"No." I step back. Then another step. Putting distance between us. "I can't look at you right now."
I turn toward the door. My hand finds the handle.
The handle turns under my palm.
I step into the hallway. Wait for his footsteps behind me. Wait for him to follow, to argue, to try and stop me the way Jack always did.
Nothing.
Just silence stretching out behind me.
I make it three steps before the tears blur my vision completely. I press my hand against the wall, force myself to keep walking. One foot in front of the other. Past the expensive artwork and the marble floors and all the beautiful things that couldn't hide what this place really was.
A cage.
A prettier one than Jack's apartment. A kinder jailer than my ex-husband.
But a cage all the same.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Nico
The bathroom tiles are cold beneath my bare feet.
I don't remember walking here. One second I'm watching Kristen's back disappear down the hallway, the next I'm standing in front of my sink, gripping the marble edge like it's the only thing keeping me upright.
