“I just know that if I don’t take the medicine my father gives me every two weeks, things start to… slip. I lose grip on reality. I get weaker. I hear whispers…” I glance away; his gaze is too much. I don’t even know why I’m actually telling him this.
But then I realize how it might sound. “It’s not mental—It’s not just in my head—I swear. Last time I pushed past the two-weekmark, I couldn’t even stand up. I couldn’t feel my arms. My legs went numb. And the pain—”
“If that’s mental, I’m a damn fairy,” he mutters, leaning in again. Close enough that his breath grazes my shoulder. Warm. Controlled. Too close.
I hold my breath. So he believes me?
“Why did you run?”
He straightens, his tone shifting back to that cold, unreadable calm.
Did… the scar on his forehead just flicker?
I blink hard. Once. Twice. Nothing.
This might be my only chance to win him over. I need to make it count.
“My father locked me up the moment I tried to steal my medicine, said I was getting too reckless. Then he locked up my sister to punish me.” My voice cracks, but I keep going. “He kept me there until the wedding day. The second they pulled me out to dress me up and parade me down the aisle, I ran.”
He doesn’t react. Not even a blink.
“I need to find her. Before he uses her to punish me again—or worse, kill her.”
The last part comes out more like a plea, but I don’t care. He brought me here—kidnapped me—because he needs something. We can use each other.
I don’t give a damn if he kills me afterward, as long as I get Diana out.
“Your sister... the one you came for at that bar?” he asks.
I nod quickly.
He helped her before. I remember him saying he had a sister, too.
Please, God—let him go soft again.
“You said your father gives you medicine every two weeks?” he asks next, changing the subject. His lip twitches slightly, like a thought just clicked into place.
“What kind of medicine?” he adds before I can even answer the first one, one brow raised.
“Something only he can get. I’ve never seen it anywhere else. No doctor’s ever found a cure for my illness, but only my father had this medicine that works. If it helps—there’s something Idoknow, though.”
I lean forward, locking eyes with him, hoping he’s after who I think he’s after. “I’ll tell you... if you agree to help me find my sister.”
He watches me. He’s no fool—and I know better than to play games with a man like him.
I just hope he sees I’m serious.
He smirks. “Do share. And I’ll think about your sister.”
A deep breath.
“Ivan Petrov is after that medicine, too. That’s the marriage deal—”
“Ehi, cugì!”
The sudden voice from behind makes me flinch, cutting my words short.
Maleciandro tilts his head toward it, lips flattening—but there’s something sharper in his eyes now. Like he just formed a new theory, or a plan.
