Chapter 19
BIANCA
Bane got me a soft, loose dress to change into, but I got to pair it with my black combat boots now. Bane wasted no time after that. Within an hour, a dark SUV idled at the back of the facility and a private jet waited on the tarmac for us.
When I boarded, he had me sit right next to him.
Not across the aisle. Not at a distance.
His palm rested on my thigh, not possessive exactly, but heavy, like a new reminder he was there.
He scrolled through his phone, thumb moving over the screen with methodical swipes, every so often glancing at me like he was afraid I might leap up, lash out, or slip away again.
“Quit looking at me like that,” I muttered, keeping my eyes on the clouds outside.
“I look at everyone any way I want,” he replied back. His response was the Bane I knew him to be. Pointed and confident in everything he did.
Unapologetic too.
But then he closed his eyes for a moment, like he wanted to recalibrate, his jaw working once, twice, three times. When he opened them again, they’d softened just a fraction. “What look don’t you like?”
I lifted a brow. This was new. “Are you listening to me?”
“I’m trying.” He said it like it cost him his whole damn soul. His fingers flexed against my thigh, then went still.
“You’re looking at me like you’re scared I’m going to do something to you again,” I said, clicking my tongue and then looking at the wound on his thigh. “Your leg doesn’t really hurt that bad that you’re afraid of me now, does it?”
He tried to glare but then a reluctant smile of his formed.
He brushed his fingers over the marred part of his slacks, where the pen had gone in.
“I don’t worry about you hurting me. If you stab me again, Pink, it’ll just get me rock hard.
You know I like the pain as much as you”—his voice dropped lower, rougher—“but I do care about you hurting yourself.”
A soft huff escaped me. “You care that I hurt myself, but you hurt me every day. You locked me up in that penthouse and wouldn’t even talk to me.”
“Not this again,” he grumbled, shifting his weight like a restless animal.
“Well, I hated it. And the last week in that literal dollhouse asylum was a bit much.”
“I’ll do whatever I have to in order to keep you healthy.”
“Yeah, not working.” I leaned past him to see the city lights as the plane tilted. “You’re taking me home?”
“Maybe.”
I swallowed. Did I even want to see my family? Did I care? “What for?”
“For whatever you want.”
“There’s nothing left there that means anything to me.”
He hummed low in his chest. “Then maybe I need to go there for something.”
My frown deepened. “Want to tell me what? Pretty sure my parents aren’t expecting us.”
“They haven’t been living there for the past six months,” Bane said flatly.
“Seems they’re still traveling the way they used to.”
“The house will probably be up for sale soon. Your father wants a bigger one.” He relayed information about my family like he was reading a report—facts I should have known but didn’t.
“You talked to him about us coming?”
Bane’s pale eyes slid to me like I’d said something ridiculous. “Of course. We’re all in business together.”
My lip curled. “You talk to my father regularly?”
“As much as necessary.”
Disgust rolled through me. “Figures.” We fell into a silence, him going back to his phone, me staring out the window, wondering if this was just another power play.
“You plan on giving me back my phone?” I finally asked.
He slid a brand-new one out of his pocket, setting it on my lap.
I pouted as I took the new one from him and said, “My old one had all my apps and—”
“And all your blood on it,” he finished.
Ugh. “Fair,” I said softly and pressed a button to light up the screen. On it, I saw all my regular apps. “Thanks for putting everything in here.”
I knew it was him. He was the one who would have had that attention to detail. No one else.
His features softened as he nodded, but he didn’t say much else. So, I pulled up my Oracle and started typing an entry rather than saying it out loud.
It didn’t work, Oracle. So now I’m back. It took much longer for a response to come in. The app then pinged that there was an update. I sighed and let it download as I glanced up at him.
He was watching me intently. “How much do you use that app?”
I took my time in answering him. “You tell me.” Bane never left a stone unturned, and I was positive with all the ways he responded to those entries that he was listening in some capacity to them over the last year. “Actually, tell me how you knew I was on my bathroom floor.”
“I think you know the answer.”
“How regularly did you hack Oracle to get my entries?”
“About as regularly as I needed to to get them in real fucking time.”
“I freaking knew you were.” I shoved at his shoulder. “Do you know how unhealthy it is for you to have me in the same resort as you and be listening to all my entries in an app while completely avoiding me in person for months?”
“Bianca, I’ve come to relish in the fact that we’re not healthy and never will be.”
“Not when what you’re doing to me is still, quite frankly, stalking.”
“Hacking an app to listen to you bitch and moan about everything?” He sucked on his teeth, “If that’s what you consider stalking, I’m doing much worse than that.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“I bought and revamped Oracle.”
I blinked. “You what?”
“I bought it the day I found you on the floor.”
“No.” I frowned at him. “But that app’s huge. Millions of people have it. AI—”
“There’s no more AI. I’m hiring certified therapists and psychiatrists to respond to those in need.”
“But that means—”
“It means people who need real help will get it.”
I saw it in his eyes: he’d heard my entry, reacted the only way he knew how. Taken over. Taken control. Maybe he’d done it because others couldn’t. Because that’s who Bane Black was.
“That’s a lot of burden to take on. It’s one of the fastest growing apps in the country.”
“Burden and opportunity. And technically, I have access to everything a person confesses.”
“Well, that’s a huge breach of privacy, Bane.”
“Or it’s genius. Now I decide who gets a shrink and who gets something more sinister.”
I bit my lip. “That could be a ticking time bomb.”
“Indeed. But I saw what AI did to you. That thing was a time bomb either way. If I’m the only one capable of setting a better precedent, I’m going to do it.”
I groaned. “Who knew your stalker tendencies would amount to some good?”
“Don’t get excited. I’ll still be killing anyone who pisses me off with their entries.”
I rolled my eyes. Typical Bane.
The plane dipped, and a chime announced our descent. He slipped his phone into his jacket and opened the double doors for me when we disembarked.
I stepped out into the cool air and stared at the house rising before me—a twisted, beautiful ruin masquerading as a mansion. My childhood home.
“What do you want from this place? I asked.
Bane’s shadow fell long over the steps as he followed, his voice low and deliberate behind me. “Closure. Answers. Maybe both.”
Not much later, we walked through the double doors of my childhood home.
The marble foyer spread out like a museum display, all white-and-black veining, the chandelier overhead flickering weak light over polished surfaces.
It smelled the same—wax and cold stone. A place built to look like legacy but always feeling like a cage.
Bane opened the doors for me, his palm briefly at the small of my back as if to guide me, then stepped aside so I could take it in. “Truly, what could you possibly need back here,” I asked, voice shakier than I intended, “that you couldn’t get from him without me?”
He flicked a switch; the bulbs hissed and the chandelier trembled before holding its glow. His pale eyes tracked mine, a shadow cutting across his sharp features. “Show me,” he said.
“What?” My gaze darted up the curved staircase toward the second floor. My heart already knew.
“Show me the closet.”
Everything inside me went still. I took a step back, boots squeaking against the marble. I could see it—the door up twenty steps, second on the left. Lock on the outside, not the inside. The smell of cedar and steel and panic.
“What are you talking about?”
“I told you I listened to every Oracle entry, baby girl.” His voice wasn’t cruel. It was low, matter-of-fact. His arms crossed over his tailored suit.
“Bane …” My throat went dry. I shook my head and moved toward the double doors, but his hand closed around my elbow like iron.
“Trust me. Show me.”
“No.” I tried to pull free. “I’m not going near them.”
He didn’t budge. His eyes locked on me, colder now but steady. “Not near them, Pink.” He let the silence stretch. “You’re going in them.”
“You’re downright demented if you think—”
He moved before I could finish, scooping me up as easily as a child. My scream tore through the empty house, echoing off marble and wood, but no one came. No one would. This was my hell. My father’s house. My nightmare. And now Bane was carrying me into it.
I fought him as he took the stairs two at a time, muscles coiled tight under his suit. His jaw was clenched, but under his breath I caught the way he cursed me or himself or all of us.
“Don’t scream like you’re scared,” he barked at me, scanning the hall like a soldier clearing a room.
I clawed at his shoulders but when he stopped in front of the door, I went still. My heart slammed against my ribs. “You put me in there alone,” I hissed, “and I will never forgive you. I promise you, Bane.”
“I’d never make you go in alone again.” His voice was different now. Rougher. Almost…pained. He set me down gently, still blocking the exit with his body. “Open it. Make the choice to endure it, Bianca. With me.”
It was a dare. A challenge. A test.