They stop me just beneath the chains that hang from the center of the ceiling like stalactites. Kenji’s grin spreads, his black eye gleaming as his men grasp my manacled wrists and haul them upward to hook them to the chains above my head.
“Up you go,” he commands, and the men turn to the wall, reaching for a lever that cranks my arms higher until I’m stretched into a Y, my joints straining from the tension.
I can still see Evi standing at the nearest corner of the cell, her body pressed against the bars, tiny and exposed. She looks so vulnerable, wearing nothing but her flimsy cream silk slip, her nipples puckering against the sullied fabric now that she no longer has my body heat to warm her. My chest tightens with a mix of rage and helplessness. I want to reach her, to shield her, but I can barely breathe with the chains pulling at my arms.
Kenji strolls around me, slow, deliberate, eyes drinking in every detail. “See?” he says softly, almost reverently. “I like warming up first. Nothing gets me ready like breaking the man who thinks he can protect what’s his.”
The hair lifts along the nape of my neck as—for one agonizing second—I think he’ll go back into the cell and grab Evi now that I can’t stop him. But he doesn’t—even if he does come to stand next to her on the outside of her cage, as if to keep her company. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to get my blood on his suit.
Then the blows start. His men step forward, fists and kicks raining down. I grunt, the chains jerking violently with each strike. My muscles burn, my ribs ache, but I hold myself upright, refusing to give them the satisfaction of my collapse.
“Where did your brothers go?” Kenji asks as one of the men lands a sharp kick to my side.
I grit my teeth, flexing my muscles to avoid the worst of the damage. “You’ll never get the truth from me,” I growl.
But even as they pummel me harder in response, relief surges through me—because at least I’m getting information, which ismore than I’ve had for days. And that one simple question tells me so much more about what’s going on outside than I’m sure Kenji realizes.
Raf and Miko are safe. They’re alive. They must have seen Kenji’s forces coming for them and mobilized before he could hurt them or Miko’s family.
And that can mean only one thing. They’re on the yacht. Safe. Out of reach.
Kenji laughs from the shadows, his voice low and satisfied. “So stubborn, Sandro. I have to admit I rather enjoy your defiance. It’s a shame I can’t put you to better use. But that damn loyalty of yours would only get in the way. Let’s be honest, I could never trust you enough to make you one of mine, could I?”
Another strike lands, sharp and sudden, and I feel a flash of pain across my side. A broken rib. I recognize the familiar pain. But I don’t scream. I can’t. I don’t want Evi to see any signs of weakness, and I know she’s watching. Her slender hands grip the bars so tight they’re pale. Her eyes are wide, terrified, but she’s staying strong, stoically silent—as if she’s trying to hold herself together for me too.
I glare at Kenji. “I’d rather die than work for you.”
He tilts his head, the movement bringing him automatically closer to Evi, and even the shadow of his presence in her cell makes my gut twist.
“I can admire your devotion,” he murmurs, letting the words roll from his tongue like venom. “So delicious. So… self-destructive.”
Destructive it might be,I think, jaw tightening.But it’s not going to break me.
The blows keep coming, and my body is raw, every nerve screaming in protest. My arms ache from the chains, my ribs burn from the strikes, but I refuse to yield. I force myself to breathe, to keep my focus narrow and sharp, to remember why I’m enduring this.
Evi. My brothers. My family.
“Where would Raf have gone?” Kenji’s voice cuts through the din, quiet but sharp, carrying more menace than the physical strikes ever could. “Not home. Not the Novikov compound. Where?”
I grit my teeth, twisting my head against the punch that lands across my jaw. “I–I don’t know what to tell you,” I growl, tasting blood. “If he ran, you’ll never find him.”
Kenji’s laughter cuts through the dungeon air like a knife. “Oh, I think you know more than that,” he says. “But you’re too proud, too stubborn. That’s alright. I’ll enjoy drawing this out.”
The blows stop suddenly then, and in the momentary reprieve, I know that something worse is coming, even if I can’t see what Kenji’s men are up to behind me. Because the blood drains from Evi’s face.
“No. Please,” she begs, shifting closer to Kenji as she speaks to him directly, her eyes wide with fear and anxiety.
Kenji turns to study her thoughtfully, and my heart hammers against my ribs. If he goes after her now, I can’t stop him.
“Evi,stay silent,” I snarl through gritted teeth, wordlessly willing her to stay out of this.
Her gaze snaps to mine, her pupils blown wide with fear, turning her irises closer to green than their usual golden hazel, andher chin wobbles dangerously. “I’m sorry,” she breathes, her eyes squeezing shut, and thick tears form tracks down her dirt-smudged cheeks.
“It’ll be okay,” I promise, but before I’m done talking, rough hands grip the collar of my cable-knit sweater, pulling tight against my throat, and a knife cleaves through the fabric behind me, carelessly nicking my skin along the way as it exposes my skin to the damp, frigid air of the dungeon.
The man throws the severed folds of my sweater wide, baring my back and shoulders, and I barely have time to clamp my mouth shut before the sharp sting of a whipping cane lances across my spine. Tensing, I bite back the groan that wrenches from me and grind my teeth. The sting of my flesh tells me he wasn’t holding back.
But if Kenji thinks this will break me, he’s sorely mistaken. I’ve known this kind of pain before. And as his men set a grueling pace, taking turns drawing lines across my back, I sink into the familiar numbness that lingers in the darkest corners of my mind.
