She doesn't say anything. Just squeezes my fingers. I squeeze back.
Whatever comes next this week happened. She smiled at me. She fell asleep in my arms without flinching.
No one can take that.
I open the door for her. She climbs in, sliding across the leather seat. I follow, settling beside her as Nico gets behind the wheel.
The SUV pulls out of the garage and into the morning light. Denver disappears behind us, block by block.
Marina's hand stays in mine the whole way to the airfield.
Marina
The flight was fine. Smooth air, leather seats. Dante held my hand during takeoff and didn't let go until we landed.
I should have said no.
The thought has crossed my mind at least a dozen times since we left Denver. When Dante told me we were going to Chicago. When Lorenzo called to explain the security arrangements. When Sophia texted asking what room I wanted at the compound.
I should have said no to all of it.
My parents are in Ohio. Safe, according to Lorenzo's people, but I haven't seen them in months. Haven't hugged my mother or let my father make his terrible jokes about my love life. Iasked if I could visit them first. Just for a day. Just to see their faces and know they're real.
Lorenzo said no.
Not unkindly. He explained that the Mendoza cartel is still watching, still waiting. That my parents are protected. That I need to stay at the compound until they handle whatever comes next.
Sophia backed him up. Said she understood, said she was sorry, said it wouldn't be long.
I agreed because what choice did I have?
But sitting in this car, watching the Chicago suburbs blur past the tinted windows, I can't stop thinking about how easy it would have been to refuse. To tell Dante I was done. To walk away from all of this and take my chances alone.
I didn't.
I followed him onto the plane. I let him hold my hand. I'm still following him now, driving toward a place that lives in my nightmares.
The car slows. I look up.
Iron gates. A guard house on the right side. Cameras everywhere.
My stomach drops.
The gates swing open. The car rolls through.
Trees line the long driveway. Oaks and maples, perfectly maintained. The cobblestones are smooth under the tires. Everything looks exactly the same as it did two years ago.
My hands start shaking.
Dante notices. He reaches for me, but I pull away. I can't be touched right now. If he touches me, I'll shatter.
"Marina."
"I'm fine."
I'm not fine. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. My vision is narrowing at the edges. The trees blur together, and suddenly I'm not in this car anymore.
I'm in a hallway. Daniil's hand around my throat. The crack of a gunshot. Pain exploding through my hand.
