She stumbles forward on bare feet—and I strain against the lengths of my chains to catch her before she hits the ground. Her body fits against mine like that’s where it belongs, her frame small and trembling, her heartbeat frantic under my hand. For a second, neither of us moves. Then her fingers clutch at my shirt like she’s trying to convince herself I’m real.
“Evi.” My voice cracks on her name, and I hardly register the sound of the cell’s bolt sliding home or the receding footsteps of her captors.
Because she’s looking up at me like it’s the end of the world, eyes wide and glistening in the half-dark. “Sandro?” Her fear shatters something deep inside me. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
I can’t quite tell if it’s disappointment or relief in her voice. It’s too choked to be sure.
But I cup her face in my palms, dragging my thumbs across her cheeks. “I’m here,” I whisper. “I’m right here.”
She lets out a sob and buries her face in my chest. The sound rips through me, low and broken. I wrap my arms around her bare shoulders, holding her tight, anchoring both of us to something solid in the middle of this hell.
From the foot of the stairs, Kenji’s laughter echoes against the stone walls. “What a sweet reunion. You see, Evi? I think you might be of some use to me, after all. I’ll give you two some privacy,” he calls. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
The door slams shut. The lock clicks. Then it’s silent. Just her breathing. My heartbeat. The stench of blood and damp stone.
Evi shivers in my arms, and for the first time, it pains me to see her dressed in nothing but that flimsy cream silk slip she likes to sleep in. I would give anything to offer her the black sweater I’m wearing. But I have no way of taking it off with my hands chained like they are—and nothing sharp enough to cut it from my body.
So, instead, I pull her close, settling onto the cold stone floor and bringing her down onto my lap so I can cover as much of her exposed flesh as possible. For a long time, she stays huddled there, her teeth rattling together so violently, I doubt she can even speak.
And when she finally lifts her head to talk, her words tremble dangerously. “I thought they were going to use me to try luring you in,” she confesses.
I shake my head, my gut churning with guilt and self-loathing. “They knew we were coming right from the start.” My throat burns as I say it. “We walked straight into their trap. Raf got out, but I—” I stop. The memory of it—the gunfire, the shouting, the crushing sense of defeat—presses behind my eyes. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here because of me. I’m so sorry, Evi. This is all my fault.”
Tucking her head beneath my chin, Evi snuggles closer, her soft hair tickling my throat, and though she doesn’t answer, I can feel her readiness to forgive in that sweet, vulnerable gesture. “Sandro, what’s going to happen to us?” she breathes, her voice laced with fear.
I don’t answer right away. Because I don’t know. In all honesty, I’m not sure why I’m still alive, except that Kenji’s not the type to kill quickly. He enjoys his toys. But I doubt that’s all he has in store for me. For us.
All I really know is that I’m prepared to protect Evi with my life.
The hours crawl by. There’s no window, no clock—just the flicker of a single torch that throws shadows across the walls. Evi sits between my thighs on the cold floor, leaning into my shoulder for warmth. My hands are still cuffed, the chains fixed to the hard stone behind me. At least they’re long enough that I can hold her when I lean against the wall.
They’ve given us nothing. No food. No water. Just enough light to remember what hope looks like.
Evi shivers, and I rub her arms with what little freedom I have. “You’re still freezing.”
She forces a small smile. “I’ll live.”
“At least it gives me an excuse to keep you close.”
That gets the tiniest laugh out of her, and I hold onto it like it’s oxygen.
After a while, I say quietly, “Evi, I owe you an apology.”
She looks up at me, brows furrowed. “For what?”
“For before. For how I treated you—what I said.” I swallow hard, my chest tight. “I thought I could clear my head if I kept you ata distance—but all I did was make you think you didn’t matter. And you do, Sunshine. More than anything.”
Her eyes shimmer in the dim light. “Sandro…”
“I’ve been so focused on revenge that I forgot what I was fighting for,” I continue. “It wasn’t just for my family. It was for what I hoped would come after. For the life I could have had—with you.”
Her breath catches. “Don’t say it like that. You make it sound like this is goodbye.”
“It’s not,” I promise. “I won’t let it be.”
We lapse into silence again, the kind that stretches long enough for every sound to feel amplified—the drip of water, the shuffle of rats, the way her breathing steadies against my chest.
I force myself to ask something lighter, needing to pull her back from the edge. “What makes you happy?” I ask suddenly.
