Chapter Sixteen
Nina's POV
I woke up slowly, like swimming through thick honey toward a light I couldn't quite reach.
Everything hurts.
Not sharp pain, exactly. More like my entire body had been wrung out and left to dry. Heavy. Distant. Wrong.
I tried to move my left arm and couldn't. Something held it down, wrapped tight. Panic fluttered in my chest before I remembered.
The dungeon.
The spy.
The gun.
The bullet.
My eyes snapped open.
I was lying on a couch in the main living area, the one with the ocean view. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the massive windows, turning everything gold. An IV stand stood beside me, clear fluid dripping slowly into the needle taped to my right hand.
My left arm was bandaged from wrist to shoulder, heavy and useless in a sling.
"Ay, mija, you're awake. Finally."
Nana appeared in my line of vision, her face creased with worry. She held a glass of water with a straw, her hands trembling slightly as she brought it to my lips.
"Small sips," she said. "Slowly."
I obeyed. The water was cold and perfect, washing away the metallic taste coating my tongue. Blood. I'd tasted blood.
"What happened?" My voice came out scratchy. Weak.
"What happened is you almost died, that's what happened." Nana set the water down and adjusted the blanket over my legs with sharp, angry movements. "Shot. You were shot, Nina. In a dungeon like some kind of criminal, and I wasn't even there to help you."
Her voice broke on the last word.
"Nana, I'm okay"
"You are not okay. You lost so much blood the doctor said…" She crossed herself quickly. "Dios mío, I thought I would lose you too. Just like your madre."
The mention of my mother hit me like a fist to the chest. Tears burned behind my eyes, but I blinked them back. I didn't have the energy to cry right now.
"How long was I out?"
"Eight hours since the surgery. You woke a few times but never really stayed awake." She touched my face gently, checking for fever.
"You're stronger than you should be, though. The doctor said it's because of the transfusion."
"Transfusion?"
"Blood. You needed blood, mija. A lot of it." She glanced toward the hallway, then lowered her voice. "El jefe, he gave his blood. Dante. He's O negative, same as you. He sat right there for an hour while they took a pint from him, and he never left your side until the doctor finished."
The words didn't make sense at first. Then they did, and my stomach twisted violently.
Dante's blood.
In my veins.
Keeping me alive.
The man who'd dragged me to a dungeon full of corpses. Who'd made me mop blood off stone floors while he tortured someone ten feet away. Who'd looked at me like I was property he'd bought and paid for.
That man had given me his blood.
"No," I whispered. "No, that's not like him "
"It's true." Nana squeezed my hand. "He wouldn't let anyone else. Said he would do it. I've worked for these men for five years, Nina. I've never seen him do something like that. Never."
I didn't want this information. I didn't want to think about what it meant. I didn't want to feel anything except hatred for them.
But something warm and terrible was spreading through my chest, mixing with the anger and fear until I couldn't tell the difference anymore.
His blood.
Inside me.
Keeping my heart beating.
I felt sick.
"Nina."
The voice came from the doorway. Deep. Cold. Familiar.
Dante.
He stood there in a fresh black suit, perfectly pressed, not a hair out of place. But there were shadows under his eyes that hadn't been there before. A tightness around his mouth.
"We need to talk," he said.
Nana straightened immediately. "She just woke up. She needs rest."
"This can't wait." His eyes stayed on me. "Your father called."
My father.
The man who'd sold me. Who'd signed papers trading me like furniture to pay his debts. Who hadn't even come to my mother's funeral because he was too busy making deals with criminals.
"I don't want to talk to him," I said.
"You don't have a choice." Dante walked into the room, each step measured and controlled. "His creditors want proof you're alive.
They think the deal is compromised. If we don't give them proof, they'll assume you're dead or that we've broken the agreement."
"So?"
"So they'll send more people to verify. More spies. More attacks. More bodies." He stopped a few feet from the couch, looking down at me with those dark, unreadable eyes. "And next time, you might not be lucky enough to only get grazed."
Fear curled cold in my stomach. "What do you want me to do?"
"Video call. Five minutes. You show your face, prove you're alive and being treated well, then we end it."
"That's it?"
"That's it." He paused. "As long as you follow the rules."
Of course there were rules.
"What rules?" I asked, my voice flat.
"You don't scream for help. You don't beg him to come get you. You don't say anything that could make his enemies think you're in danger or unhappy enough to be useful as leverage."
His expression didn't change, but his voice dropped lower. Darker. "You play the role of a daughter being protected by family friends. Nothing more. Nothing less."
"And if I don't?"
"Then we have a problem." He leaned down slightly, bringing his face closer to mine. "If you cause trouble on that call, if you give them any reason to think you're worth grabbing, they will try again. And when they do, people will die. Guards. Staff. Maybe even Nana, if she's in the way."
Nana made a small sound of protest.
"You wouldn't," I breathed.
"I wouldn't have to. Your father's enemies would." He straightened. "So you'll do the call. You'll be good. And everyone stays safe. Understood?"
I wanted to tell him to go to hell. Wanted to scream that I wouldn't help him, wouldn't play along, wouldn't pretend everything was fine.
But Nana was standing right there. And the memory of that spy's broken body was still fresh. And somewhere deep down, beneath all the anger and fear, I knew he was telling the truth.
If they thought I was vulnerable, they'd come for me.
And people around me would die.
"Fine," I whispered.
"Good." He turned to Nana. "Get her presentable. Long sleeves to cover the bandage. Light makeup to hide how pale she is. We do the call in twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes to prepare myself to face the man who'd destroyed my life.
Nana helped me sit up slowly. My head spun, but the nausea passed after a few breaths. She brought me a soft black sweater that hung loose enough to hide the bulk of the bandage, then carefully applied concealer under my eyes and color to my cheeks.
"There," she said quietly. "You look almost normal."
I didn't feel normal. I felt like a corpse being painted for viewing.
Enzo appeared to help me walk to Dante's office. His hands were gentle on my good arm, steadying me when I swayed.
Nikolai stood in the doorway, watching with those intense eyes, his jaw tight.
They settled me in a leather chair in front of Dante's massive desk. A laptop sat open, camera angled to show my face and shoulders but cut off just below my chest. The sling was mostly hidden. The bandage completely covered.
I looked like a girl sitting in her father's study. Not a prisoner who'd been shot.
Dante stood just off camera to my left. Enzo positioned himself behind me, one hand resting on the back of my chair. Nikolai leaned against the wall near the door, arms crossed.
All three watching.
All three ready.
Dante clicked something on the laptop. "Remember the rules, Nina."
The screen flickered.
Then my father's face appeared.
He was in a hotel room somewhere, sitting at a desk with bland corporate art on the wall behind him. He looked older than I remembered. Thinner. More gray in his hair. Dark circles under his eyes that matched mine.
"Nina." His voice cracked slightly. "Mija, thank God. You look are you okay?"
I stared at him. This man. This stranger who'd called himself my father while selling me to criminals.
"I'm fine," I said. My voice sounded hollow even to me.
"You're pale. Are they treating you well? Are you eating enough?" He leaned closer to the camera. "Where are you? Is that Dante's house?"
"Yes."
"And you're safe there? They're keeping you safe?"
Safe. The word was a joke. A sick, twisted joke.
"They're keeping me alive," I said carefully.
Something flickered in his expression. Relief. "Good. That's good. Nina, you have to understand, this was the only way. The people I owe, they would have killed me by now "
"Shot me?" The words burst out before I could stop them. "Is that what they would have done, Dad? Because someone already tried. Last night. In a dungeon. I got shot because of your enemies."
His face went white. "What?"
"A spy got into the house trying to kidnap me. He had a gun. He fired." I gestured vaguely at my hidden arm with my good hand. "I got hit. Lucky me, it only grazed me. Could have been worse, right?"
"Nina, I am so sorry"
"You sold me." My voice was shaking now, tears threatening. "You signed papers and handed me over like property to pay your debts. You didn't sacrifice for me. You sacrificed me. For you."
"That's not true. I did this to protect you my angel "
"Protect me?" I laughed, and it sounded broken. "From what? The men you sold me to? The enemies you made? The bullet that almost killed me? Which part was protecting me?"
"You don't understand the situation. These people, they were going to tarnish everything we have worked for"
"I understand perfectly." Tears were streaming down my face now, hot and unstoppable. "Mom would be ashamed of you. She would be disgusted."
He flinched like I'd slapped him. "Don't you dare—"
"Enough."
Dante stepped into frame, his presence immediately dominating the screen. He didn't touch me, but I felt his power like a physical force.
"Victor," he said, his voice cold as winter. "You've had your proof of life. Nina is alive and under our protection. Better protection than you ever gave her, clearly."
My father's expression hardened. "You were supposed to keep her safe."
"We are keeping her safe. From your enemies. From your mistakes. From you." Dante leaned forward slightly, and even through the screen, my father seemed to shrink back. "The spy who tried to take her is dead. Anyone else who tries will end the same way. You sold her to us. She's ours now. Not yours. Not your creditors'. Ours."
"That wasn't the agreement"
"The agreement was that we protect her as collateral for your debt. We're doing that. What happens to anyone who threatens her is our business, not yours." Dante's hand moved toward the keyboard. "This conversation is over. Don't call again unless you have something useful to say."
"Wait…"
Dante ended the call.
The screen went black.
Silence filled the office. Heavy. Suffocating.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Could only sit there shaking, tears streaming down my face, my father's shocked expression burned into my brain.
I'd told him. I'd finally told him what I thought of him. And it had felt good and terrible and empty all at once.
"Nina." Nikolai's voice, soft. He'd moved closer without me noticing.
"I need to .." My voice broke. "I can't do this "
Strong hands lifted me out of the chair. Nikolai. He carried me back to the couch, set me down gently, adjusted the sling when I winced.
Enzo appeared with water. "Small sips," he said quietly.
I couldn't hold the glass. My hands were shaking too badly. He held it for me, patient, until I'd drunk enough.
Dante stood in the doorway, watching. Not coming closer. Just watching with those dark, unreadable eyes.
"I hate you," I whispered to him. To all of them. "I hate all of you."
"I know," Dante said. There was no emotion in his voice. Just fact. "But your father sold you to save himself. His enemies want you dead or captured as leverage. We're the only thing standing between you and a grave."
The words hit like physical blows because they were true. Horribly, undeniably true.
My father had traded me away. His enemies wanted to use me. And these men, these monsters who'd bought me like property, were the ones keeping me alive.
With bullets and blood and violence, yes. But alive.
Dante's blood, in my veins, keeping my heart beating.
I looked at him, this cold, ruthless man who'd held a spy down and put six bullets in him. Who'd sat beside me for hours while a doctor stitched my arm. Who'd just told my father I belonged to them now.
"I don't know what terrifies me more," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "The men who own me, or the part of me that's starting to feel safer in your cage than in my father's world."
Something flickered in Dante's eyes. Something I couldn't name.
"Get some rest," he said. Then he turned and walked away, leaving me there with Enzo and Nikolai standing guard.
Like I was something precious.
Like I was something worth protecting.
Like I was theirs.
And God help me, part of me was starting to believe it.