Chapter 33 Sandro
SANDRO
The sound of boots echoes down the stone steps long before I see them. Kenji’s laughter carries like a knife, sharp and mocking, and I close my eyes to it, trapped in the agony of my thoughts.
Then I hear it—Evi’s voice, soft and terrified as she whispers a single word.
My stomach drops as my eyes snap open, and I push myself upright against the wall, chains scraping concrete. My wrists ache from where the cuffs have bitten through my skin, but none of that matters now.
The men haul Evi forward, handling her with unnecessary roughness when she stumbles, and fury turns my vision red. I take a step, ready to crush the first man that dares come close.
Evi gasps, her eyes finding mine, and the color drains from her face as she breathes my name. The sound of it is like a knife to the heart, confirming what I didn’t want to believe—Evi’s here with me now. In the flesh.
The men stop in front of my cell. The lock scrapes, metal grinding against metal, and the door swings open.
“Welcome home,” one guard sneers, then they shove her inside without warning.
She stumbles forward on bare feet—and I strain against the lengths of my chains to catch her before she hits the ground.
Her body fits against mine like that’s where it belongs, her frame small and trembling, her heartbeat frantic under my hand.
For a second, neither of us moves. Then her fingers clutch at my shirt like she’s trying to convince herself I’m real.
“Evi.” My voice cracks on her name, and I hardly register the sound of the cell’s bolt sliding home or the receding footsteps of her captors.
Because she’s looking up at me like it’s the end of the world, eyes wide and glistening in the half-dark. “Sandro?” Her fear shatters something deep inside me. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
I can’t quite tell if it’s disappointment or relief in her voice. It’s too choked to be sure.
But I cup her face in my palms, dragging my thumbs across her cheeks. “I’m here,” I whisper. “I’m right here.”
She lets out a sob and buries her face in my chest. The sound rips through me, low and broken. I wrap my arms around her bare shoulders, holding her tight, anchoring both of us to something solid in the middle of this hell.
From the foot of the stairs, Kenji’s laughter echoes against the stone walls. “What a sweet reunion. You see, Evi? I think you might be of some use to me, after all. I’ll give you two some privacy,” he calls. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
The door slams shut. The lock clicks. Then it’s silent. Just her breathing. My heartbeat. The stench of blood and damp stone.
Evi shivers in my arms, and for the first time, it pains me to see her dressed in nothing but that flimsy cream silk slip she likes to sleep in.
I would give anything to offer her the black sweater I’m wearing.
But I have no way of taking it off with my hands chained like they are—and nothing sharp enough to cut it from my body.
So, instead, I pull her close, settling onto the cold stone floor and bringing her down onto my lap so I can cover as much of her exposed flesh as possible. For a long time, she stays huddled there, her teeth rattling together so violently, I doubt she can even speak.
And when she finally lifts her head to talk, her words tremble dangerously. “I thought they were going to use me to try luring you in,” she confesses.
I shake my head, my gut churning with guilt and self-loathing.
“They knew we were coming right from the start.” My throat burns as I say it.
“We walked straight into their trap. Raf got out, but I—” I stop.
The memory of it—the gunfire, the shouting, the crushing sense of defeat—presses behind my eyes.
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here because of me.
I’m so sorry, Evi. This is all my fault. ”
Tucking her head beneath my chin, Evi snuggles closer, her soft hair tickling my throat, and though she doesn’t answer, I can feel her readiness to forgive in that sweet, vulnerable gesture. “Sandro, what’s going to happen to us?” she breathes, her voice laced with fear.
I don’t answer right away. Because I don’t know. In all honesty, I’m not sure why I’m still alive, except that Kenji’s not the type to kill quickly. He enjoys his toys. But I doubt that’s all he has in store for me. For us.
All I really know is that I’m prepared to protect Evi with my life.
The hours crawl by. There’s no window, no clock—just the flicker of a single torch that throws shadows across the walls.
Evi sits between my thighs on the cold floor, leaning into my shoulder for warmth.
My hands are still cuffed, the chains fixed to the hard stone behind me.
At least they’re long enough that I can hold her when I lean against the wall.
They’ve given us nothing. No food. No water. Just enough light to remember what hope looks like.
Evi shivers, and I rub her arms with what little freedom I have. “You’re still freezing.”
She forces a small smile. “I’ll live.”
“At least it gives me an excuse to keep you close.”
That gets the tiniest laugh out of her, and I hold onto it like it’s oxygen.
After a while, I say quietly, “Evi, I owe you an apology.”
She looks up at me, brows furrowed. “For what?”
“For before. For how I treated you—what I said.” I swallow hard, my chest tight. “I thought I could clear my head if I kept you at a distance—but all I did was make you think you didn’t matter. And you do, Sunshine. More than anything.”
Her eyes shimmer in the dim light. “Sandro…”
“I’ve been so focused on revenge that I forgot what I was fighting for,” I continue. “It wasn’t just for my family. It was for what I hoped would come after. For the life I could have had—with you.”
Her breath catches. “Don’t say it like that. You make it sound like this is goodbye.”
“It’s not,” I promise. “I won’t let it be.”
We lapse into silence again, the kind that stretches long enough for every sound to feel amplified—the drip of water, the shuffle of rats, the way her breathing steadies against my chest.
I force myself to ask something lighter, needing to pull her back from the edge. “What makes you happy?” I ask suddenly.
She blinks. “What?”
“I should’ve asked before,” I say. “Before all of this. I never even tried to learn what you like. What you dream about.”
Her lips twitch into something between a smile and a sigh. “That’s kind of a big question.”
“I’ve got time,” I say dryly, rattling my chains for emphasis. “And I’d rather listen to you talk than think about what Kenji has in store for us.”
She hesitates, then says softly, “I like reading by the window when it rains. I like the smell of coffee in the morning and sewing during the quiet part of the day. I like when you…” She stops herself, cheeks flushing.
“When I what?” I prod gently.
“When you laugh,” she admits. “You don’t do it often, but when you do… it feels like everything’s okay.”
I smile faintly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Then I’ll have to do it more often.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” I say. “You deserve that.”
Her gaze softens, and for a long moment, we just look at each other. The air between us hums with all the words we don’t say. Then she leans forward, resting her forehead against mine.
“What makes you happy, Sandro?” she whispers, the question genuine and inviting.
I pause for a long time, the words catching somewhere deep inside my chest. But I need to say them. If I am going to die down here, she needs to know. “You do,” I rasp, my voice thick with emotion.
Her breath hitches, and Evi’s arms wrap around my neck, her body curling closer as she buries her face against my throat. I tighten my arms around her as much as my restraints will allow, trying to make her feel safe even when I can’t guarantee it.
Time loses meaning down here. The light burns low, then flickers and dies completely, leaving us in darkness. Evi drifts in and out of uneasy sleep, trembling every time she wakes. I stay awake, listening for footsteps, for any sign of what’s next.
When she stirs again, I whisper, “Hey.”
She makes a soft sound. “What time is it?”
“No idea. Eternal night.”
She lets out a tired breath. “You still awake?”
“Yeah.” I pause, then say, “Tell me something else. Something you love.”
She thinks about it. “I love the water,” she says finally. “The sound of it. The way it smells. When I was little, my mother used to take me to the beach after storms to look for shells. I always found the broken ones prettier than the perfect ones.”
“Why?” I ask.
“They have stories,” she says quietly. “They’ve been through something. But they’re still beautiful.”
I stare into the darkness, letting her words sink in. “You’re like that,” I tell her.
She shifts against me. “Broken?”
“Beautiful,” I correct.
Even in the nonexistent lighting, I can see her smile—a real smile—and for a few fleeting seconds, the dungeon doesn’t feel quite so cold.
At some point, exhaustion catches up to me.
My head drops back against the wall. When I wake again, Evi’s still in my arms, her breathing steady, her face soft in sleep.
I study her in the faint gold light leaking beneath the door to the stairs.
Every curve, every line of her features is etched into my memory like a prayer.
I can’t lose her. Not like this.
The chain rattles as I test the cuffs again, ignoring the sting of torn skin. There’s no give. No weakness. I hear footsteps again—slow, deliberate—and tense, every muscle coiling.
Evi stirs, eyes fluttering open, and I put a finger to my lips. The footsteps stop just above us, pause, then retreat. False alarm. For now.
Evi exhales shakily. “I thought—”
“I know,” I whisper. “Me too.”
She clings to my shirt, her fingers trembling. “Sandro, I don’t want to die down here.”
“You won’t,” I say, even though I can’t promise it. “I’ll find a way to get you out.”
Her eyes glisten in the dim light. “To get us out,” she insists.
And because I can’t bear to lie to her, I simply nod.
She presses her forehead to my chest. I can feel her silent tears soaking my shirt, and as I hold her, it hits me—while I’m not afraid of dying, I’m terrified of losing her.
I owe Evi more than words. I owe her everything I’ve never said, everything I’ve been too stubborn to admit. And if I ever get us out of here, I intend to spend the rest of my life proving it to her.
For now, all I can do is hold her closer and whisper against her hair, “I’ve got you. No matter what happens.”
She nods as she cries quietly against me.
And in that moment—beneath the stone, the darkness, the silence—I make a vow.
Kenji Tanaka will never touch her again. Not while I’m still breathing.