Chapter 40
Aurelia
Maybe I should’ve killed him when I had the chance. I’m sure he had something sharp on him, some weapon I could’ve used. But now it’s too late. Nikolai calls for Ivan, and I’m gone, dragged back to my cage like the good little exhibit I am.
I knew it was a risk. I knew there was a chance he’d try to force me down, bend me to his will.
He’s the heir to the Bratva, after all. I’ve been surrounded by men like him my entire life.
I’ve seen their cruelty, their entitlement.
Hell, the only guy I ever even loved? Caught him screwing a hooker in my own kitchen. So yeah… expectations aren’t high.
But Nikolai—he surprised me. Not in the way I hoped, but in the way that makes your skin crawl. He could’ve taken what he wanted, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop him.
Yet, he hesitated. For a fleeting second, I saw restraint, and then… the fury. He tried to scare me into submission. It was cute, actually.
I can’t pretend I’m not scared. I am.
But I also know what I am.
I’ve been trained my entire life to be strong. Pain is nothing. Fear is nothing. A man with tattoos, raising his voice because I didn’t make him come? That is the least of my concerns.
Ivan practically throws me down after clicking each lock in place, but I straighten my spine in the chains, letting the cold metal bite into my neck and ankles. Let him think he has the power. Let him believe this little display shook me.
It’s still dark, and I hope the clicking and the weight of my body don’t wake Adrian. I wouldn’t say I trust him completely, but he’s helped me the most here—offering support when no one else has. I know he needs to sleep off the torture he’s been enduring. God knows we both do.
“Still breathing, gorgeous?” Adrian’s voice cuts through the dark.
There’s a thread of humour in it, but it’s gentler than usual.
A smile tugs at my lips. “I am.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I say, quiet but firm. “He got mad at me for sucking his dick.”
The room goes silent for a moment.
“So that’s not what I meant when I said to be nicer to him.”
“Well… I improvised,” I mutter, letting another tiny smirk escape.
Another pause. Then Adrian lets out a low laugh. “And here I thought you didn’t like him.”
“I don’t,” I retort, even though it sounds defensive. “It was strategy.”
“Do you wanna be nicer to me as a strategy?”
I laugh sweetly, picturing his crooked grin. “You can’t give me my freedom.”
“I can give you something else,” he teases, the playful edge in his voice unmistakable.
“I thought we were friends.”
“Friends with benefits, gorgeous.”
I laugh under my breath. “Mm, tempting, but I’ll pass.”
“So…” he drawls, “are you in love with this Elijah guy Ivan’s been asking about? Is that why you won’t let me charm you into bed?”
“I have strong feelings for him,” I admit. “Even though they aren’t exactly reciprocated.”
“Oh, so is he deaf, dumb, or blind?”
“Dumb,” I reply, a laugh slipping out before I catch it. “He just didn’t want me. I guess that’s not his fault.”
“That is a thousand percent his fault, Ace. I can’t imagine anyone not wanting you.”
My throat tightens, but I hide it with a small smirk. “You’d be surprised. I think most men prefer their women quiet, obedient, and less… me.”
“Less breathing, maybe?” he says.
I snort. “Something like that. Weird fetishes and all.” Then, quieter, “But Elijah’s different. He was supposed to be. I think that’s what pissed me off the most.”
“What, that he wasn’t?”
“No.” My voice drops. “That he could’ve been and chose not to be. He looked at me like I was fire—beautiful, dangerous, something to stay away from. And I think part of me wanted him to get burned.”
Adrian hums thoughtfully. “Sounds like you loved him more for wanting you but refusing to do anything about it.”
“Maybe,” I say softly. “Or maybe I just wanted to prove I could make someone like him fall. Because if he did, maybe it meant I wasn’t broken. Maybe it meant I could still be worth something.”
“Ace. I don’t know you very well, but I already know two men who would fall for you exactly as you are.”
I feel my cheeks blush but try to hold it together. “You’re a really nice criminal, you know.”
I wish I could figure out what he did to get sanctioned down here with me, but I’m starting to be okay with not knowing.
“You’re…” He stutters, “No, you’re not very nice.”
My eyes roll back. “Yeah, you’re just mad I don’t wanna suck your dick too.”
“Fuck yeah, I am.”
We fall into laughter, then an easy rhythm, whispering about life, about people we care for, about moments that have mattered. I don’t tell him anything important, nothing about my family’s secrets or power, just the pieces of me that are soft, that feel human.
By the time sleep starts to weigh down my eyelids, lulled by the gentle cadence of his voice and the faint hum of the ventilation, I almost forget where I am—almost feel safe.