"Then don't tell him," I say, already focusing on the black beast.
I don't go straight for the stall. I stop about six feet away and just... breathe. I lean against a wooden pillar and start humming. It’s a low, wordless tune my mother used to sing when the house got too loud and the air got too heavy.
Vindice stops kicking. He snorts, a cloud of hot breath puffing from his nostrils, and watches me. He’s still tense, his muscles rippling under his skin like water, but the screaming has stopped.
"You’re a big, grumpy boy, aren't you?" I say, my voice a soft, velvet murmur. I don't look him in the eye—that’s a challenge. I look at his chest, moving slowly, step by step. "So much fire in such a small space. I get it. I really do."
I feel like him most days. Trapped in a cage, wanting to kick the world until it breaks.
I reach the gate. I don't open it. I just rest my hand on the wood. Vindice edges closer, his head ducked, sniffing the air. He realizes I’m not a threat. I’m just... Gia.
"That's it," I whisper. "Just you and me."
I slowly reach out. My fingers graze the velvet of his nose. He flinches, then settles, leaning his heavy head into my palm. I exhale a breath I didn't know I was holding. His hide is hot, his heart thudding against his ribs. I start to stroke his neck, my hand moving in long, rhythmic sweeps.
"You’re okay, Vindice. You’re okay."
"I see you’ve met the executioner."
The voice is like a low growl of thunder. I don't jump, but my heart does a frantic little skip-rope move in my chest. I don't even turn around. The air in the room just got ten degrees more complicated.
Rafael is standing in the doorway. He’s leaning against the frame, arms crossed, watching me with an expression that’s dangerously close to amused. He’s back in a clean shirt and the blood from the basement is gone, but the shadow of it still lingers in the set of his shoulders.
"His name is Vindice," I say, not stopping my rhythmic stroking. "Avenger. A bit on the nose, don't you think?"
"He’s a Caruso horse," Rafael says, walking closer. His boots click on the stone, but Vindice doesn't flinch. The horse watches him with a wary respect. "Vengeance is our family crest, in case you hadn't noticed."
"I noticed the 'Butcher' part first," I retort, finally turning to look at him. "The horse is much more refined."
Rafael stops a few feet away. His eyes move from me to the stallion, then back again. "The groom said you were about to be trampled. He was practically hyperventilating."
"He was crowding him. Men usually do that when they’re afraid of something out of their control." I tilt my chin up. "Vindice just needed someone who knows what it’s like to want to bite everyone."
Rafael’s mouth twitches. It’s almost a smile. "You’re surprisingly fearless around an animal that could snap your neck with one kick."
"Animals are easy, Rafael. They don't lie. They don't have hidden agendas. If they want to kill you, they do it to your face." I give Vindice one last pat and step away from the stall. "It’s the men I have to be cautious around."
"Is that so?" He steps into my space, the three-foot rule vanishing into thin air. "And here I thought we were making progress."
Progress. Right.
"I’m a quick study," I say, keeping my voice steady. "I’ve learned that in this house, the more a man smiles, the more you should check your pockets. Not that you smile much."
"I have a lot on my mind." His gaze drops to my mouth for a split second before returning to my eyes. "So, you’re a horse whisperer now? What else did you learn in Paris? How to dismantle a bomb? Tactical bread-baking?"
"I learned that I’m a better rider than you probably think I am." I cross my arms, the sass bubbling up. "Actually, I bet I could beat you in a race. Right now."
Rafael actually laughs. It’s a dry, raspy sound that does terrible things to my nervous system. "A race? Gia, you’re wearing silk trousers and shoes that don’t look all that comfortable."
"I can ride bareback if I have to. And these shoes have excellent grip." I step closer, feeling bold. "What’s the matter, Macellaro? Afraid of getting dusted by a 'Little Gia'?"
He narrows his eyes. The challenge lands exactly where I wanted it to—right in his pride. "And what are the stakes?"
"One wish," I say, my heart hammering. "The winner gets one wish. Anything they want. No questions asked. No refusals."
Freedom for Laura. I could ask for her and he would do everything to get her for me. I could end this right now.
Rafael studies me. I can see the gears turning behind those green eyes. He’s calculating the risk, the reward, and the sheer audacity of the woman standing in front of him.
