"Yes." I moved closer. "I know it feels like a cage. I know it takes away the freedom you just found. But Stefan—I can't let them take you. Can't let them use you as a weapon. Can't—" My voice cracked. "I can't lose you to federal custody where I can't protect you."
"So you'd rather lock me up yourself?"
The question hung between us.
"I don't know what else to do," I admitted. "How do I keep you safe without restricting your freedom? How do I protect you without controlling you? I don't have an answer that doesn't involve keeping you close."
Stefan was quiet for a long moment. Then: "You could trust me."
"I do trust you—"
"No. You trust that I won't betray you. That's different from trusting me to handle my own safety." He stepped closer. "If the FBI tries to grab me, I'll refuse to talk. I'll demand a lawyer. I'll invoke every right I have. And if they charge me anyway, I'll fight it."
"Stefan—"
"I'm not my father, Matteo. I don't cooperate with feds. I don't betray people who've protected me. I don't—" He stopped. Swallowed hard. "I don't abandon the people I love just because things get difficult."
"You love me?" My voice came out rough.
"Of course I love you." Stefan's eyes were fierce. "Why else would I cut ties with my entire family? Why else would I stay when every logical part of my brain says I should run? Why else would I choose you over everything I've ever known?"
"Stefan—"
"I love you." His voice was firm now. Certain. "And I need you to trust that. Trust that I won't betray you even if the FBI threatens me. Trust that I can handle difficult situations without you locking me away for my own good."
I pulled him close. Buried my face against his neck. "I love you too. So fucking much it terrifies me."
"Then stop trying to protect me from everything." Stefan's arms wrapped around me. "I don't need you to eliminate every threat. I need you to trust me. To treat me like an equal instead of something fragile that needs to be locked away."
He was right. Again.
"I'll remove the guards from the apartment," I said. "But the ones in the building stay. Compromise?"
"Can I leave the building?"
"Not alone. Not until the trial's over." I pulled back to look at him. "That's not negotiable, Stefan. The FBI surveillance is too heavy. If they grab you off the street, I can't protect you."
"But I can leave with you? Or with someone you trust?"
"Yes."
"And you'll tell me when there are new threats instead of just locking me down without explanation?"
"Yes."
He studied my face. "This still feels like a cage. You know that, right? Even with the compromises. Even with the promises. I'm still restricted. Still dependent on you for permission to move freely."
"I know." The admission hurt. "But Stefan—I don't know how else to keep you safe. This is the best balance I can find between your freedom and my need to protect you."
"Is it protection? Or is it possessiveness disguised as protection?"
The question cut deep because I didn't have a good answer.
Was I restricting Stefan's movement because the FBI threat was real? Or was I using the threat as justification for keeping him close? For making sure he couldn't leave even if he wanted to?
"I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe both. Maybe the threat is real but I'm also using it as an excuse to keep you locked down because the thought of you being somewhere I can't reach you makes me insane."
"At least you're honest about it."
