Page 22 of Bound

Only I didn’t save anyone. I lost all my freedom. And I was no queen.

Dressed in all the finest things, surrounded by the beauty I craved, I was caged by my vanity.

Now, Lucian’s eyes cut to mine, stinging. I deserve that look. I deserve worse.

Erin’s hand tightens in his. To anchor him. And it works.

He releases the breath he’s held as captive as Carlos held me.

“What else?” Lucian asks. For a moment, we hold one another’s eyes as if an old secret passes between us, like he’s ensuring with this steady gaze that I don’t tell.

I could lie.

Old instinct rises immediately. Smooth. Familiar. Survival dressed as caution.

I could say I don’t know. I could say Marina never told me. I could say Carlos kept me too isolated to understand.

Some of that would even be true.

But truth mixed with omission is my old language. And I am so tired of speaking it. I inhale a shaky breath. “I know a few things that could be helpful…but first⁠—”

Rafe’s tablet chimes again. Everyone turns. Another message appears beneath the photograph.

A message from Marina, it says.

Rafe doesn’t open it. He looks at Lucian. Lucian looks at me.

Before anyone says it, I know. Marina always loved an audience. Carlos loves one more.

“It’s not her. It’s him,” I say. “He thinks you’ll open it if it’s from her. Play it.”

Lucian’s eyes narrow. “Isobel⁠—”

“Play it,” I repeat. “We have to. There’s no other choice.”

Lucian looks at Rafe. “Play it.”

Erin steps closer to the screen. Rafe taps the file. The screen goes black. Then light.

A timestamp appears.

From five days ago.

A room appears.

Concrete walls. A metal chair. A woman bound to it, head bowed, dark hair falling forward.

For a second, my mind refuses.

No.

No.

No.

Then the woman lifts her face.

Marina.