Chapter 24
CEZAR
I hadn’t moved an inch. Not to stretch. Not even to breathe properly. My phone was nowhere in reach. I had no idea how long I’d been lying there—only that every second without her felt like death by a thousand cuts.
Then she returned, and everything inside me lit up. For her to exist when I did was all I needed. She had been made just for me.
I shifted over as she kneeled on the bed with water and my favorite cookies.
She made me so fucking happy. A surprised chuckle escaped me as I reached for the water, gulping it down. Lina grabbed it from my hands before I drowned myself with it and shoved a cookie in my mouth.
“How did you know these were my favorite cookies?” I chomped on them like I hadn’t eaten in days. Good thing I worked out.
“Guess you’re not the only creeper here,” she teased with a bright smile.
The tension between us was agonizing, pressing in from every direction, and I had no clue what to do with it. I tried to hold myself together, to stay strong, but she saw right through that bullshit.
“What are you thinking?” she blurted out, her voice soft yet insistent.
“Far too many things.” I kept my eyes down, dodging her question because I didn’t know how to answer without falling apart again.
“Cezar, you can talk to me.” She moved closer, her voice full of concern, this quiet invitation for me to let her in—deeper than I’d ever let anyone.
“It’s ok, Lina, you don’t have to pretend to care.” That stung even though the words came out of my mouth. Her expression changed. She backed off the bed as if I’d shoved her.
I was confused, and I didn’t know where we stood, but that wasn’t what I meant. I trusted her with my entire being. Stupid, fucking stupid idiot.
“Petal—fuck—wait,” I blurted, scrambling after her. I grabbed her from behind before she could get far, arms locked around her waist. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That isn’t what I meant. I don’t know what’s happening in my head right now, but you didn’t deserve that.”
My forehead pressed into the back of her neck as I inhaled her scent. She was the only thing keeping me alive.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you for not being like the people I grew up with. Thank you for giving a fuck about me when you don’t have to.”
Her hands touched my arms with caution.
“You don’t have to apologize,” she said, turning into my hold until she was facing me. “But next time, I need you to tell me to stop. Don’t let me push you past what you can handle. I never want to send your mind there again.”
I cupped her face and walked her backward until her spine met the wall. As I devoured her, she clenched onto me, digging her nails into my back. That was the pain I wanted. The pain that came from her desire, not my past.
One day, I wanted to feel the pain of her love.
We stayed there, breathless, staring at each other since neither of us knew what to do. “Do you want to talk?”
Lina wanted my truth? Was it because she actually cared, because she wanted ammo against my father, or because she felt sorry for me?
“Cezar, stop overthinking. Listen to me.” Her hand rested lightly against my chest, steadying me.
“If you don’t want to talk, we won’t. If you do, I’ll listen with everything I have, the same way you’ve listened to me.
So, tell me, what do you want to do?” Her words were bold and reassuring in a way I didn’t understand.
“My father… he beats me.”
She didn’t flinch. Of course she knew. People always knew more than I wanted them to. I had tried to hide it, but the signs were there—the scars, the stiffness. The way I never reacted to pain how normal people did.
Without saying anything, she guided me back to the bed and tugged the blankets over both of us. Then she patted her chest gently. “Come here.”
I settled with her body pressed against mine. My arm tucked beneath her head, her leg thrown over my waist like she was trying to shield me from ghosts. We stayed like that for a while, her warmth anchoring me enough to keep talking.
“I’ve never told anyone this.” My voice felt scraped. “You’re my first for a lot of things. I want you to understand how much I fucking hate him. I would kill him if I could.”
Her body stiffened at my admission.
“It started a long time ago. Honestly, it’s been my normal for so long I don’t remember a time before it.
” My throat tightened. “My mother died, and he blamed me. Got my brothers to blame me, too. I knew things he couldn’t risk getting out—things he did.
You’d think blackmail would work the other way around, but not with Viktor. He makes his own rules.”
Her fingers moved slowly across the scars on my chest. I didn’t expect it to help, but it did. Keeping me in the present instead of pulling me to my past.
“Viktor thinks fear equals submission. It didn’t work on me. He couldn’t break me the way he wanted. Even when he made my life hell as a teenager, I got used to it. Or numb to it. Not sure which.”
I exhaled, long and shaky. “It got worse when I tried to expose him. I almost did, but before I could, he shoved me aside and threatened me again. I thought it would be the usual beating… but instead, he told me he’d hurt my brothers the same way if I opened my mouth. And I knew he was telling the truth.”
“So, I did what I was told,” I continued after taking a breath. “As long as I obeyed, it was only me. He trained me harder, isolated me, and kept me away from Codrin and Darius. Honestly, I’m surprised Codrin still talks to me. And I don’t blame Darius for not wanting anything to do with me.”
I swallowed. “Eventually, the beatings just… escalated. I don’t know if it was because I got stronger or because his hatred did. But I kept my mouth shut. Everything behind those doors stayed secret, and the people I loved stayed safe.”
A humorless laugh slipped out. “It isn’t ideal. But it keeps them safe.” At least, that’s what I told myself.
Lina listened—really listened—without pulling away. Her attention stayed on me through every word, every scar she traced with her fingertips like she understood me on a level no one ever had. She never made me feel weak, just seen.
“I had to survive. That’s what I kept telling myself. But the way I coped… it warped me.” I exhaled, feeling the truth drag out of me. “I hate myself, Lina, because I’ve grown accustomed to the pain. I hate what he’s turned me into.”
My voice shook, but I kept going. “And the fucked-up thing? The only time I feel like me is when I’m with you. Being open with you is the first thing that’s given me any kind of hope in years. It’s the first time I’ve even pictured a future for myself.”
“Sounds pathetic, right?” I scoffed at my own words, feeling the weight of my confession pressing down on me. I was just trauma-dumping on her, clinging to her. Fucking pathetic.
“It’s not stupid, Cezar. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a future for yourself. Your father has always been a worthless piece of shit, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You and I know the truth,” Lina responded, her tone protective.
Recalling the years of silent suffering wasn’t easy, but having Lina there made the memories a little less brutal. With her, the weight didn’t vanish. It subsided enough for me to breathe, even if I knew exactly what was waiting for me back home.
“Lina, I can only handle remembering so much at once,” I started, forcing the words. “There’s more, sure, but, for now, my father—he would suffocate me sometimes. He does suffocate me. Always finding some new way to see how long he can keep me under.
“At times, it was his men holding me down while they waterboarded me. Sometimes it was just him, putting a plastic bag over my head until everything went black. Those were the moments I thought, finally… finally it’s over.
“After I met you, though, it changed. I held on longer. I fought harder. I wasn’t ready to die anymore.
” I sighed, almost relieved that my life meant something again.
“Last time, he kept the bag on too long, so I slammed the back of my head into his nose. Broke it. He lost it. I don’t know how many times he hit me—slaps, punches—then his men took over when he got tired. ”
The memories blurred just like they always did. Those rooms weren’t meant to be remembered—only survived.
I paused, needing water, needing something. Before I could move, Lina was already leaning over me, uncapping the bottle and pressing it to my lips. She wouldn’t look at me. Her jaw was tight. She was sad again because of me.
“Why… Cezar… why do you let me hit you?”
“Because, Petal,” I whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead, “you make everything better.”
“Cezar, you don’t have to keep going.” Her voice was on the edge of crying—same as mine.
“I want to.” My voice cracked. “You’ve seen the scars on my back. You know it was him. He prefers a certain whip. A bullwhip. Cuts the deepest, lasts the longest.” I swallowed, staring at the ceiling. “Eventually, my body just stops feeling it.”
Trying to get out the rest of what I wanted to say, I pushed forward. “The burn marks—those are from his cigarettes. I fucking hate smoking. Often, he switches things up and heats a wooden poker instead. The one I hate most, though, is the pillory.
“He doesn’t use it much. Only when he thinks I need a real lesson.
Sometimes he locks me in on my knees. Sometimes bent forward but forced to stand.
Every position hurts differently. I’m pretty sure half my back problems came from that goddamn thing.
My brothers have no clue. Codrin always jokes that I move like an old man who needs a massage.
” I laughed bitterly. Humor was easier than screaming.
At least I still had them. Even if they resented me. Even if they didn’t know half of it.
The more I talked, the more frantic Lina’s touch became—her hands moving over me, not knowing where to settle, acting like she might tear her own skin apart if she didn’t anchor herself to mine.
I kept running my fingers along her side, hoping it would help.
It always gave her goose bumps, which made me happy.
I couldn’t go any further. My mind and body were done. I shifted Lina aside, covering my face with my hands. Lungs fighting off the panic attack.
Lina pressed a tender kiss at the base of my neck and worked her hands over my shoulders.
The first touch made me rigid, but then her fingers massaged deeper.
The way she touched me was comforting. She grabbed lotion, rubbed it between her palms, and over my back in slow strokes that felt so damn good.
It took me a while to speak. “Where did you learn to do that?”
She didn’t answer immediately. “Cezar… fuck, I—”
“Lina, please don’t pity me. I don’t deserve it,” I cut in, slumping forward, allowing her a better angle.
Her hands stilled for a second. Then she kept going, gentler this time.
“You’re not your father,” she said. “And what he’s done to you doesn’t define who you are. You aren’t weak, no matter how much he’s tried to make you believe that. This cruelty wasn’t chosen by either of us. Life fucked us over, but you’re not facing it alone anymore.”
In this moment, I knew I would never survive losing her.
As much as I savored her touch, I was on the verge of passing out. Letting some of my past come out to play had drained me. “Will you let me cuddle you again tonight?”
“Of course. But can I be the big spoon?” She snorted, wiping her hands before flopping beside me.
“You can do whatever you want, Petal.” I grinned at the image of her trying to do that.
Sometimes I couldn’t read her. She always hid behind sarcasm. “I was kidding, you big goof.” She rolled her eyes as she lay on her side waiting for me to close the gap between our bodies. Once again, I suffocated her in my hold. I would never let her go. No one could ever make me. No one.