He narrows his eyes at me. Calculating the risk.
“You’d give up your freedom, even your life, for a man that will never look at you again?”
I swallow the guilt, knowing that to be true. “Yes.”
A long pause is then followed by a nod.
“Done,” he says.
I’ve made a deal with the devil, but I don’t care. Not at this time.
I say no more as I bolt out of the room, my mission to find Simon. I need to see him. My Simon. My little lion.
Simon who had trusted me.
Simon who may never forgive me.
Simon who I should never have dragged into this world and was now marked by it forever.
The anger blooms again, shining brighter this time. Not chaotic. Pure and purposeful.
My father may think he has won this round, but the war is just beginning. I will play the game. Make them believe I will wear their crown. Pretend to kneel.
But I will never forgive or forget what they’ve done to Simon.
And I will make them pay.
The corridors stretch out in a never-ending tunnel that's closing in on me with every step. The chandeliers above, once a symbol of power and old worth, now flicker coldly as though they too mourned what had transpired here tonight. I can still hear the whip, still hear his scream. The agony behind it. The fear.
I reach the end of the hall, stopping before the heavy double doors that lead to my father’s small private clinic. A room that is clinical and detached. Nothing could be sterile enough to cleanse away what was done to Simon.
I open the door slowly, bracing myself for what's on the other side.
The room is painfully white, but the low lighting makes it more bearable. The doctor attending to Simon is familiar, but I don't care to remember. He is standing over Simon, wrapping gauze around his back. His gloved hands move methodically, avoiding the angry red gashes that mar Simon's skin. Lash marks. Still weeping blood at the edges.
Simon lay motionless on his front on the medical bed, his bare back a map of cruelty.
The doctor looks up as I enter, nodding stiffly, and without a word, packs his things and leaves the room. I wait until the doors click shut behind me before I move. I swallow the knot in my throat, my voice nearly lost to it.
“Simon…”
No response. Just the sound of his shallow breathing. I look at his fingers, nails chewed down, clenched tightly on the edge of the bed as if grounding himself to this hell. His dark hair hangs over his brow, clinging to his face, wet with sweat.
I step closer, and I wince as I get a closer look at his back. I’m for a moment grateful Enrico was not strong enough to have continued. They wanted Simon broken. Broken enough that he would never come near me or this family ever again.
“I’m so sorry, Simon. I never imagined they would take it this far,” I whisper, kneeling down beside him. “I’m so sorry I couldn't stop it. That I couldn't protect you.”
Silence. The kind that weighs on your chest like concrete.
“I warned him not to do it. If I could’ve killed him I would have, but it's just me and Lucas. We would have all been killed, never got out of here. I had to be smart,” I say, and my voice slightly cracks. His lack of words is more heartbreaking than a tirade of abuse.
“If I could have taken your place, I would’ve, Simon. I would do anything for you.”
With trembling fingers, I reach out to brush his arms, but he flinches. The movement is small, but it shatters something inside of me.
“Don’t do this. Don’t shut me out. I need you. We can fix this. Together. But not if you go cold on me. Please look at me, Simon,” I beg.
Minutes pass like it's a lifetime.
