I am so fucked.

“Are you injured?” someone asked, maybe a soldier, I wasn’t sure—didn’t care. Wetness seeped into every corner of my being. It’s water, my brain said rationally. A pipe had burst above me during the fight and was flooding the basement. My heart, however, said it was blood, said I was leaking. I couldn’t move, hollowed out, sucked clean…empty.

Saremo insieme, il mio cuore.

I didn’t know what that meant, didn’t speak Italian, but I felt it. I felt the words to the very essence of me. We would be together again.

He said we would meet, but when? When would that be? Since he’d left, I’d been frozen. He’d gone and taken me with him. Hours had passed since the fight, and that was already too long. I couldn’t wait another week again to see him.

“She’s in shock,” some other man said. “Pick her up.” They sounded so far away. How the fuck did I go back to my room after what just happened? Arms reached for me, trying to curl around my body and lift me up, and I screamed. I thrashed. I clawed at his face until I drew blood.

“Fuck!” he yelled and dropped me. I fell into the inch of water that had accumulated on the floor with a splash. Didn’t they know? They didn’t get to touch me. I wasn’t for them; I was for him.

“You deal with her,” said the man who’d dropped me.

“I don’t want to deal with that,” the other man said. “Just leave her.”

“We can’t just leave her, she’s the princess.”

“Go get Lucia.” Their voices faded and I knew I should be nervous, but I couldn’t find it in me. I’d lied to him again. Don’t apologize for something you have no fault in. I couldn’t keep lying. Even if Anteros decided to leave me, the next time I saw him I was going to come clean.

“Granddaughter.” I looked up at the voice. Icy, even, confident—Lucia. God, I really didn’t want to go back with her. She was insidious. She would never tell me anything about my real parents. A couple months ago I’d thought Anteros was the epitome of evil, that he and his Wolves were demons. I was so wrong. She was the most dangerous thing I’d ever come across.

Slowly Lucia bent down until she was eye to eye with me. I stared into her crystal eyes, briefly wondering if that was what people saw when they looked at me—frozen, like glacial ice. Then she slapped me across the face. I gasped, clasped my tingling, stinging cheek.

“Get up,” she said.

“Did you leave me on purpose?” I whispered my question, afraid of the answer.

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in her response.

“I almost died,” I said, but there was no heat in my words. “Why would you do that?” It was a stupid question, but part of me still hoped she would give me an answer that pointed to loving grandmother, not calculating sociopath. A reason for why I’d stayed so long in this hell. Lucia bent closer, fingering the pendant on my neck.

“If you shut a door, a dog never learns that it cannot leave, only that there is something in the way. If you leave a door open but shock the dog when it tries to leave, it never tries running again.” Lucia stood up and turned away, gold heels disappearing up the stairs, shining even in the gross yellow light.

She was so certain I wasn’t going to leave, so certain she’d shocked me into submission. I hated that I couldn’t say for certain she was wrong.

* * *

Later that night, I awoke sweaty and feeling feverish. Nightmares had plagued me but I couldn’t say what they were, just that I was exhausted and filled with dread. I’d thought mind games were bad with Anteros, but they were nothing compared to Lucia. When I checked the clock on the nightstand, I saw day had passed and it was already night again. Without thinking, I grabbed the phone to see if Anteros had texted a time to meet.

He hadn’t.

Groaning, I fell back against the mattress. I’d gone to sleep in Gabby’s bed, and she’d fallen asleep hugging one of a million pillows. Dried tears streaked her cheeks and I knew that though she slept, it was as fitful as mine. Lucia still demanded she end things with Levi. Gabby trusted Lucia too much, was swayed too much by the sweet cadence of her voice to question the words. She was oblivious to what Lucia was doing, like a fly using a spider’s web for a trampoline. I actually kind of envied her for that. I’d have rather been oblivious on the web than stuck to it, staring at the spider and unable to get out.

I sat up and swung my legs off the bed, feet hitting the cool wood. I couldn’t sleep here anymore. Gabby slept because she felt safe with me, but I was the biggest liar—lying to my love, lying to my best friend. Making sure to be quiet with the door, I opened it and walked out.

When I got to my room, I stalled. It was midnight and the club was in full swing. The attack hadn’t stopped any business, not even for a night. The women would be back in their velvet cages and Papa would be back in jail. Pushing back a piece of sweaty, brown hair, I went to the precipice of the stairs, toes curling over the lip, and tilted my chin up toward Lucia’s wing. High above me, a chandelier dripped crystal. It was night now, the outside lights twinkling on the chandelier.

I couldn’t be truthful if my soul was built on lies.

Lucia and Nikolai were always using their knowledge to make me their marionette. I was determined to cut those strings. Sofia’s journal had been a light to me, something to guide me through this dark world. I needed to find some light, and the only place I could think of was Lucia’s room.

Emboldened, I tiptoed down to the club. When I saw Lucia on the floor, I quickly tiptoed back up, not stopping on my floor. I looked over my shoulder as I reached her room to make sure I was still alone. With a gentle nudge, I opened her door. Breath hitched, I took it all in: Lucia’s room, empty and ready to be explored.

I rummaged, pulling on drawers and trying to open the wardrobe. I needed something; she wouldn’t stay down there long. Everything was locked, though. I stopped in the middle of the room—was this seriously it? I was just going to tug on some locked drawers and go back to my room empty-handed? I put a palm to my forehead and rubbed, trying to think.

If I was Lucia, I would keep the key with me, because if I was Lucia, I was a sneaky bitch.

“Shit.” The clock on the wall said ten minutes had passed. I couldn’t stay any longer. As I was walking out, my foot kicked up the rug. I bent over to put it back in its place, noticing a floorboard was loose.

“Sneaky bitch.” I should have checked the fucking floorboards first. It was exactly what I’d done at Anteros’s. My heartbeat was in my throat. Sweat pricked my neck. There was no way I had any more time, but I needed to see what was underneath. I quickly pried the shiny golden plank from the floor, trying not to make too much noise.

Inside the small, dank hole was a letter. I barely had time to think about what that meant, because seconds later I heard footsteps just outside the door. I quickly grabbed it, put the floorboard back, and stood up. With one foot, I hastily kicked the rug back into place as Lucia came into the room. She stopped short in the doorway, surprised to see me. That was a first. I’d never seen her surprised. Satisfaction briefly overcame my terror at being caught.

“What are you doing?” she asked, eyes getting small.

“Nothing. I—” I shoved the letter into the back of my pajamas, struggling with how to explain why I was in her wing in her room. I came up blank.

I was in deep shit.

* * *

The letter burned my lower back as Lucia’s brows became a perfect V. I realized the phone was in my hand and probably visible, but I didn’t care. I suddenly felt everything. Everything I’d been denying or trying to ignore or just hoping would change, it all came roaring to the top. The betrayal of believing they would set me free when instead they kept me prisoner to make me a puppet. Using my lack of family as strings to make me dance. Keeping Gabby here as leverage against me. The fact that I was still aching for something about all of this to be true, for Lucia to come to me, to sit down, and tell me something real.

I felt all of it and knew the lie.

The only thing that had ever been real about any of this, was Anteros.

So I snapped.

Before she could do anything, I ran past her, shoving her hard enough that she fell on her ass. I heard her yell, but I ignored the words, dashing down the stairs. They would send someone after me if I didn’t play along with the ruse that everything was fine. If I didn’t pretend I wasn’t a prisoner, they would force me anyway. So I ran until my lungs burned and my thighs felt like they were tearing.

There was only one place I could go.

A block away from the church, I had to stop. Bent over, hand on a corner of a building, I tried to catch my breath. My lungs burned fire with each breath. I could feel it coming. I was going to get sick soon.

Ruby brake lights blurred with yellow and white lights popping off buildings. People continued to walk, laughing, paying me no attention even though I was only in pajamas. I tried to tell myself I just needed to push my body to get the few more feet to our place. This is life or death, I yelled in my head, but it was useless. I slid to the ground.

Luckily snow hadn’t fallen that night so the cement wasn’t wet, just cold—cold that seeped through my pajamas, turning the fabric bitter and my skin numb. Exhaling, I put my head against the wall, closing my eyes.

Everything had been so unfamiliar in my new life. The blood. The deception. It was like I was playing a deadly game of catch-up. This though—the sickness—was familiar. It was ugly and it hurt, but at least it was familiar. It was kind of nice to have something I could cling to, no matter how awful.

I wondered if Anteros would understand. Back when I was in the penthouse, he seemed concerned, but I had to wonder if that was because he didn’t want damaged goods or because he wanted to take care of me.

The roar in my ears settled, replaced by the low hum ever present in the city—music, honking, the occasional glimpse of a conversation. I brought my pajamaed knees up, hugging them. My ass was numb and I was certain the smell of piss was coming from somewhere close to me, but I was still too tired to stand. Tears pricked my lids, falling without my consent. I hated that I was crying in public; it didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night, there was still a ton of people out.

Occasionally someone glanced at me, but they didn’t give me a second look. To them, I was crazy, not in need of help.

I was ready to give up when the phone vibrated. It was just one word, but the word was enough to get me running again.

Now.

* * *

The double wooden doors creaked as I opened them. It was so dark inside that the night outside lit the church. It was quiet; Anteros hadn’t arrived yet. The silence was weighted and warm, not like Lucia’s where quiet was cloying and cutting.

I realized then that the church was a comfort to me, with its dilapidated wood and a roof you could see the minimal stars through. If you tilted your head, you could see New York City skyscrapers jutting to the sky, reaching for God.

I slowly walked up the pews until I reached the front and sat down, pulling the letter out of my waistband. Disappointment racked through me. It was in fucking Italian.

My eyebrows drew in, staring at the paper as if I could make sense of it. I recognized the names Lucia and Lucio—maybe a letter between her and her brother? I also knew the name Pavoni as well, but that was about it. I recognized mio cuore at the end, like what Anteros called me, but that couldn’t be right. Why would a brother say that to his sister? Either way, Lucia had gone to great lengths to hide the letter, so it was clearly important.

I was still trying to glean what little I could from the letter when I heard the doors open behind me. Standing up, I turned to see Anteros. He held the doors open with both arms, blue-black sky his backlight. He was huge in the doorway, monstrous—but he was smiling at me.

I think I actually melted, so rare was that smile. I was granted half-smiles and occasionally ones he tried to hide, but this was an actual grin. It lit up his entire face. It was like I was staring at the sun, but it was so beautiful and bright I didn’t want to look away. I imagined this was why people went blind.

With big, powerful steps, Anteros closed the distance. He wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me to him.

“You beat me,” he said, and then kissed me.