He lifted it from the flame. Approached. Slow. Savoring my fear like wine.
“This will hurt,” he said. “More than anything you've ever felt. More than losing her. More than loving him.” He smiled. “And you'll wear the scar forever. Every time you look in a mirror. Every time Viktor touches you. You'll remember this moment. Remember who really owns you.”
“I'll kill you.” The promise came out broken. Desperate. Everything I'd tried not to be. “I swear to god I'll?—”
Footsteps.
Not distant. Close. In the room. Behind me.
Heels clicking on concrete. Measured. Confident. The sound of someone who belonged here.
Marcel's smile widened. “Ah. Perfect timing.”
I turned my head as far as the chains would allow. Saw movement in the shadows. A figure stepping into the light.
Familiar silhouette. Familiar walk. Familiar everything that made my brain refuse to process what my eye was seeing.
“Hello, Sebastian.”
Élodie's voice.
Élodie's face.
Élodie standing beside Marcel like she'd been there all along. Like this was where she belonged.
She wore black. Tactical gear that fit like it was custom-made. Hair pulled back severe. No makeup. No softness. Just sharp edges and cold eyes that looked nothing like the woman who'd comforted me after nightmares.
“No.” The word came out small. Childlike. “No. Élodie. He has you. He's making you. You need to?—”
“Need to what?” She moved closer. Graceful. Predatory. Nothing like the gentle woman who'd fixed my camera loops and covered my lies. “Run? Fight back? Save you?”
She stopped beside Marcel. Close. Comfortable. Her hand rested on his arm in a way that spoke of familiarity. Practice. Time.
“I'm exactly where I want to be.”
The world tilted. Gravity failed. Every certainty I'd built my life on shattered like glass against stone.
“You're lying.” But I heard the doubt in my voice. Saw the truth in her eyes. “You're lying. You wouldn't. You?—”
“Helped you?” She tilted her head. “Fixed your security footage? Covered your tracks? Oh, Sebastian.” Her smile was sad. Pitying. “I was never helping you. I was helping us track you.”
Marcel's hand covered hers. Squeezed. The gesture was intimate. Practiced. The kind of touch that spoke volumes about how long this had been happening.
“Eighteen years,” she said softly. “Eighteen years I've been beside you. Watching you. Documenting everything. Every secret. Every vulnerability. Every person you cared about.” She paused. “Did you really think I fixed those camera loops to hide you? I was creating evidence. Building a file. Making sure we had everything we needed when the time came.”
“Why?” The question came out broken. “I trusted you. I loved you. You were?—”
“Family?” She laughed. Soft. Musical. The same laugh she'd used when we were children and I'd done something foolish. “I was never your family, Sebastian. I was your keeper. Your warden. The leash they put on you after your mother died.”
She moved closer. Crouched in front of me so we were eye level. Her hand came up. Touched my face. Gentle. The same way she'd touched me a thousand times before.
“I do love you,” she said. “In my way. Like you'd love a beautiful, broken thing that you're going to have to put down eventually.”
I jerked away from her touch. The chains screamed. My shoulders screamed louder.
“You gave him everything.” My voice cracked. “My routes. My schedule. The workshop. Viktor's background. You gave him us.”
“Yes.” No hesitation. No shame. Just acknowledgment. “Every night you went out, I knew where. When. How long you'd be gone. Every time you met Viktor somewhere you thought was secret, I made sure Marcel knew.” She stood. Brushed imaginary dust from her tactical gear. “The docks ambush? I told them you'd be there. The gala? I adjusted the security protocols to give them access. Every time you almost died, Sebastian, it was because I helped set the trap.”
