“I forced him.”
The words tore out of my throat—strained, barely holding together.
“I pressured Renzo to take me. He didn’t want to. Leave him out of this.”
For a fraction of a second, there was only silence.
Then—impact.
Pain exploded across my back as something heavy slammed into me with brutal precision.
A baton.
Not meant to maim. Just to break you down.
Air was driven from my lungs in a violent gasp as my body arched forward, muscles locking in reflex.
White spots burst across my vision, bright and disorienting, swallowing the edges of the room.
The explosion’s aftershocks had already left me raw—every nerve exposed, every breath a negotiation with pain.
This—this was another layer.
Hot. Deep.
The force of the strike radiated across my shoulder blades and down my spine, settling into a burning ache that refused to fade.
I sucked in a shaky breath, biting down on a groan.
Barely holding it together.
Ciro’s voice cut through the haze.
Cold. Flat.
“Do not speak unless spoken to.”
I swallowed hard.
Tasted iron.
Blood—where I’d bitten my tongue without realizing.
I forced my head up slightly.
Vincenzo’s fists were clenched at his sides.
But his gaze—his gaze flicked away from me the moment the baton had landed.
Just for a second.
Like he couldn’t bear to watch.
Then he turned.
And started pacing.
Fast and restless.
