39. Lula
39
LULA
“ Y ou must be hungry.”
Altin Kadri stands there, his voice smooth and calm, like he's offering me something kind instead of holding me captive. His eyes are wide with what almost looks like genuine concern, but there's something off about it. It’s too perfect—too calculated. I can feel the hair on the back of my neck standing on end.
He’s good-looking. Damn good-looking. His dark hair, sharp jawline, and those green eyes that are too mesmerizing for their own good—any other time, I might’ve even found him charming. But now, as he stands in front of me with a tray of food, I can only think one thing: how . How could someone this attractive be so twisted?
“I think we’d rather hedge our bets on starvation,” I mutter, even though my stomach is doing backflips. I haven’t eaten in hours, maybe longer, but I’m not going to take anything from him. What sort of a boss hand delivers food himself to his prisoners?
A boss who poisons the food, that’s who.
I glance at Allegra, who’s sitting a few feet away, her back pressed against the cold stone wall, arms crossed tightly. She looks calm, almost too calm, but I know her. She’s assessing everything, every inch of this place, looking for a way out.
Her eyes flick to the door, the bars on the window, and then back to Kadri, narrowing. If she had a knife in her hands right now, I know she’d drive it straight into his back, no questions asked. She wouldn’t even second guess herself.
Kadri sets the tray down between us, his expression softening like he’s offering us a gift, but the second he does, he leans in closer, his voice dropping low.
“You need to eat to keep your energy up,” he says, as though sharing a secret with us, but he’s directing his words to me. I don’t like the way his eyes glance over me, trailing across my body from head to toe.
I don’t flinch. I can't afford to show weakness.
“What do you want?” I ask, my voice coming out a little sharper than I intended. “Why are we here? Derin made no secret what he wanted, but why are you involved?”
He smiles, that smile of his, full of charm and menace all at once.
“I’m not here to scare you, Lula. I’m here to help you.” He says it like it's the most natural thing in the world. “You’re in a bad situation. But I can make it better. You just have to trust me.”
I grit my teeth. “Trust you? Trust you? I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you. And I’m not that bad a throw.”
His jaw locks at what he probably perceives to be my insolence, but he doesn’t say anything.
"Help us?" Allegra finally speaks, her voice low but cutting through the tension like a blade. “You’re holding us against our will, Kadri. What part of that screams ‘help’?”
He doesn’t even blink. Instead, he steps back and raises an eyebrow, his hands up in mock surrender. “Suit yourselves. I’d much rather we be friends, but it seems you’re not willing to play ball.”
Allegra’s lips tighten, but she doesn’t say anything more. She’s not fooled. Neither am I. This is all a game of manipulation to him.
I look around the room again, but there’s nothing—just a stone floor, four walls, and the heavy scent of stale air. I focus on the window, barred shut with metal. No way out that way. The door’s locked tight, and even if I somehow got past the guard outside, where would I go? We’re too deep in enemy territory.
But I won’t give up. I can’t. Allegra knows it too. We both need to survive this. There has to be a way.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, my voice steady despite the rising panic in my chest. I can’t let him know how much he’s getting to me. He’s just toying with us, and the more I resist, the more satisfaction he gets out of it.
“Why?” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Why does anyone do what they do, Lula? For power, for control, for what’s mine.” He leans in again, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. “I think you understand that.”
I shake my head, trying to pull my thoughts back together. I need to think. The answer is out there. I know it is. I just have to find it before he finds a way to break us.
But just as I’m about to speak, there’s a sound—footsteps. The door creaks open, and Kadri turns, his eyes sharpening. The man behind him says something in a language I don’t understand, but Kadri raises a hand, silencing him.
"Make sure they’re comfortable," he tells the guard, his voice polite but cold, like he’s dismissing us as though we are nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “I’ll be back later.”
He leaves with that same smile, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving me with my thoughts and the heavy silence between Allegra and me.
I lean back against the wall and wait. Although I have no idea what I’m waiting for.
I stare at the stone walls, the same unchanging grayness pressing in on me. The cold seeps into my bones, and the weight of this place is crushing. Every time I shift in place, the reminder of my captivity is there, tight and suffocating.
Allegra’s breathing beside me is shallow, her face pale, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and frustration. I can see it in her eyes—she’s losing hope, just like I am.
“What are we going to do?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper. It cracks with the weight of her uncertainty, and I know she’s holding back tears. She’s afraid. It’s the kind of fear one tries to bury deep down but can’t hide anymore. The kind of fear that shakes your soul and makes it hard to breathe.
I feel it too—the hopelessness of our situation is gnawing at me, just beneath the surface. But I can’t let her see that. I can’t let her break down. Not when I know we both need to be strong, no matter how much I want to give up.
“If he wanted to kill us, he would’ve already,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. I swallow hard. “We just need to hang on. Scar and Kanyan… they’ll find us. Sooner than you think.”
I tell myself that, over and over again. I know it deep down. They won’t leave us here. Kanyan won’t let this go. Scar won’t stop until he’s burned the world down to get his wife back. But even as I think it, doubt creeps in; it’s not easy to find someone who doesn’t want to be found, and I can see that Altin Kadri is as slippery as a venomous snake.
Allegra’s gaze doesn’t meet mine. Her eyes are on the floor, and I can feel her fear tightening in her chest like a vise.
“What’s taking them so long?” Her voice cracks. It’s more of a plea than a question. She doesn’t want to show it, but she’s scared. And I can’t blame her.
I scoot closer, closing the gap between us. The cold stone beneath me is uncomfortable, but I lean into her anyway, offering what little warmth I can give. I weave my arm around her shoulders, pulling her against me. It feels like nothing compared to the safety I used to know, but maybe, just maybe, it will be enough for now.
“It’s okay, Allegra,” I murmur, trying to steady my voice. I know she needs to hear it just as much as I do. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon. We just have to hold on a little longer. I need you to stay strong. I can’t get through this without you.”
I feel her stiffen for a moment, then relax against me, though I can tell she doesn’t believe it. She’s too practical, too aware of what’s happening. She’s no stranger to danger, but this is different. This feels different.
“I’m trying,” she says, her voice barely audible, but I hear the exhaustion in it. She’s pushing herself to stay composed, to hold it together. But I know her—she’s running out of patience. “I can’t help but wonder what Scarlett is going through. What if I don’t make it back to her, Lula? I don’t want my daughter to grow up without a mother.”
“Shush, Allegra. Don’t even think that way.”
Her words devastate me. I wish I could promise her more. I wish I could say something to make her feel better, but words feel empty right now. I glance around the room again, my eyes sweeping over the stone walls, the barred window, the heavy wooden door. Everything about this place screams prison —no matter how clean or tidy it looks, how polite Kadri tries to make it seem. I’ve never felt more trapped in my life.
I glance down at her, my eyes tracing the sharp edge of her jaw, the way she holds herself, even when her body feels like it might collapse. Allegra’s a fighter. It feels like she always has been. But even fighters break sometimes.
I try to steady my own breath, to find some sort of peace within the chaos, but there’s none to be found. I can’t let myself crack. I won’t.
The silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating, and I can feel the weight of our confinement closing in. We both know the longer we stay here, the less likely it is we’ll make it out. The odds are stacked against us. But we can’t think that way.
And we can’t even eat the tyrant’s food.
Finally, Allegra speaks again, her voice quieter this time, almost like she’s trying to convince herself more than me.
“You think Scar will really find us?” Her words are laced with doubt, though she’s hiding it behind a mask of cool determination.
I bite back the fear trying to rise in my throat. "Yes," I say firmly, almost angrily. "I know he will. He and Kanyan will burn the whole damn city down to find us." I pause, letting that sink in, knowing she can feel the intensity in my words.
She doesn’t say anything at first. But after a long moment, I feel her shoulders relax just slightly, as if my words are a lifeline she’s unwilling to let go of, no matter how fragile it seems.
“I know,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “I know they will.”
I squeeze her shoulder once more, the grip firm but gentle. “We just have to make it through. A little longer. I need you to hang on. Can you do that?”
She nods, but there’s something in her eyes that tells me she’s not so sure. The truth is, I’m not sure either. But we don’t have a choice. We have to believe they’re coming. Because if we don’t, we’ll lose ourselves to this place, and I’m not ready to give up yet.
We sit there, shoulder to shoulder, swallowed by the kind of silence that gnaws at the edges of sanity. I force myself to stop thinking about the clock bleeding out seconds, about the slow, suffocating fear of being erased. Instead, I count the cracks in the wall, tracing their jagged paths—watching them splinter, spread. Like veins. Like a warning. Like a sacred promise that nothing stays whole forever.