33. Luna
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
LUNA
The conversation immediately stops as soon as I step inside the room. Some of the women look curious; others are instantly on guard. I take a moment for them to acknowledge my presence so they can see that I’m not a threat.
I recognize the look in their eyes, the uncertainty, the fear of the unknown. They’ve been given the option to leave, but leaving means stepping into a world they haven’t navigated in far too long. And for some, that’s more terrifying than staying.
Taking a seat, I keep my posture open; it’s less threatening. “Mateo mentioned that some of you are ready to leave,” I add. “But I also know that just because you’re ready physically doesn’t mean you feel ready.”
There’s a pause, then one woman squirms in her seat, another crosses her arms tightly. Some avoid my gaze altogether, and others hold it. I focus on them when I speak.
“I just want to make sure you’ve had enough time to think it through,” I say. “Leaving’s a big step, and you don’t have a deadline hanging over your head.”
The room stays dead silent until Amara finally steps forward. Then whispers, “But... what if we’ve got nowhere to go?”
“That’s why I’m here,” I say. “We’ll figure it all out together.”
I look at Amara. She’s the one who can help me connect with them. The others might not trust me yet, but they trust her. She’s been around Mateo long enough to understand how things work, but she’s still one of them. That’s powerful.
“They’ve kept you safe, treated your injuries, and shown you respect. You’ve seen how they operate, and how generous they can be.” Amara holds my gaze, but she doesn’t shy away from the conversation.
“I have.” I give it a second. Let them absorb it.
“So, if you had to say,” I continue, “what’s holding everyone back. Is it fear? Or something worse?” The room is still, but all eyes glance at Amara. They want to hear her answer.
“It’s not just fear,” she says slowly. “It’s that leaving means making a choice. And when you’ve spent this long without one, it’s hard to believe you have that kind of freedom.” A few of the women look down, processing her words. Others fold their arms, guarded.
“You do have a choice to make,” I say confidently. “It’s terrifying, I know. But doing what’s right for you, that’s the only way forward.” Amara glances at the others, then back at me.
“So, what happens if they say no? If they don’t leave?”
“That’s why I’m here, to make sure you know exactly what those choices look like.” I sit forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “If you’re not ready to leave, you don’t have to. You can stay and work under Nicolai’s protection, earn a place for yourself here.” A few of them exchange glances.
“But if you’re ready,” I murmur, “Nicolai can offer you stability. A real job, a new identity, and a clean slate. But it comes with loyalty. He doesn’t take that lightly.” Amara’s gaze holds mine. The others stay quiet, but I know they’re listening.
“It’s a big decision, so take your time.”
I decide to leave at this time. Giving the women ample time to process everything. I’ll revisit in a few days to see if they’ve decided to stay under our umbrella of protection or to leave.
When I step inside Nico’s office, his fingers are pressed against his temples, exhaustion lining his features. He didn’t get a wink of sleep, and it didn’t help that we had words which led to rough sex that turned rather brutal. We most definitely have the battle scars to prove it.
“Nicolai, I spoke to the women.”
His eyes snap to mine, despite the fatigue. “And?”
“They’re still processing.”
He leans back, his voice resigned. “Figures.”
I watch him for a heartbeat, then add, “Amara’s the one who spoke up. If anyone can convince them, it’ll be her.” His jaw tightens.
“She trusts Mateo too.” His voice is clipped, like he already knows the answer.
“More than she trusts herself.” He shakes his head slightly.
“Let me know when they decide.”
“I will.” I hesitate, watching him. Last night, I used sex to make him lose control, and then he had to walk into madness with no sleep. And now he’s dealing with the fallout, and I’m feeling guilty.
I step behind his chair, placing my hands on his shoulders. His body goes rigid instantly.
“What the hell are you doing?” His voice is rough, but he doesn’t pull away.
I ignore the severity in his tone, pressing my thumbs into the tenseness along his shoulders. “Relax,” I murmur. “You look like you need it.”
He’s about to argue, but his resistance falters as I work through the tightness. His head tilts forward, and then, almost reluctantly, he groans.
I apply just enough pressure to ease some of the stiffness in his neck and shoulders before I pull my hands away.
“Get some rest, Nicolai,” I advise, stepping back.
He doesn’t look at me right away, but when he does, his gaze burns. “You think it’s that easy?”
“No,” I admit. “But it’s necessary.”