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I don’t know what Graham did with her.

I try to ask every damn time he enters this room to bring us food, but nothing comes from my mouth no matter how hard I try to yell. So I keep tapping the cage, hoping to draw his attention, but he’s ignored me ever since he took her.

He won’t acknowledge I exist even though I’m begging for him to answer me.

I need to know … need to know if she’s okay.

I’ll never forgive myself if she’s not.

As I stare, praying for her safety, I swear to myself that I will see her again. And that I will make Graham pay for everything he’s done.

The food he brings spoils in the box as I refuse to touch it. I’d rather starve than make him happy. I know he needs me alive, so not eating is my only leverage. And right now, I’ll grasp anything I can to regain what little control I have over my life.

Because I owe it to Syrena. Her spirit gave me hope, and now I will do the same in return. I won’t give into him, not until I know she’s safe.

Cage has been looking at me for the past few hours. He’s tried to distract himself with workouts, but he keeps coming back to circling his prison, trying to get my attention. It’s not working. Whenever he opens his mouth to tell me how much he likes me, or how sorry he is about what happened to Syrena, I just shrug it off and ignore it.

I don’t care how he feels about anything right now. This is not about him. He should’ve stopped Graham. He could’ve fought. He could’ve not listened to him. Anything.

But he didn’t.

And I do partly blame him for it.

Even though Syrena being taken was partly my fault, none of this would’ve happened if he hadn’t chosen a girl in the first place. He could’ve refused. He could’ve told Graham he wasn’t interested in anyone, so no one would be captured.

But instead, he was selfish. He chose his own needs over those of another person.

No one has the right to do that. No one.

How could I not be mad at him?

So I’m just going to wait it out until Graham feels compelled to tell me what I want to know. And until that happens, I’m just going to sit here and pretend I’m a ghost.

Accompanying Song: “Miss Sloane Solo” by Max Richter

Cage

Not hearing her voice is painful.

But not being able to see into her eyes is killing me.

Every time I try to make her look at me, she turns her head without giving me the slightest chance.

I know why she’s upset. I didn’t stop him. I could have, but I didn’t because … that’s just it. I don’t know why. I just do as I’m told because that’s all I’ve ever done. I don’t know any better.

That’s no excuse; I know that.

I have none, to be honest.

She says I’m fearless. But even fearless men have their weakness.

Mine is her.

I don’t want her to get hurt.

I’ll do anything and everything in my power to prevent that. Even if it means going against her wishes. Even if it means listening to my father, who she despises so much.

She’s right if it makes me a bad man. I never claimed to be anything else. I’ll give my life if it means she’s safe.

However, I understand if she doesn’t see it that way. But by not eating and not sleeping right now, she’s endangering herself. I don’t know why she’s doing it. Maybe to defy my father, to get her way … because I know she wants Syrena back. Hell, even I want Syrena back even though she always nagged me about things I didn’t have the answers to.

I don’t want to see her hurt either. However, if it comes to choosing between Syrena and Ella … the choice is simple to me. If that makes me just as evil, then so be it.

I will protect my woman.

No matter the cost.

“It’s time,” his voice booms through the boxes.

Sighing, I grab the gauze and tape he gave me a few hours ago through the box and wrap my hands with them. Then I stand in the circle on the concrete and wait until it lowers me into the ring again.

I try to catch a glimpse of Ella, but she still won’t acknowledge me. Even when I’m about to walk straight into a fight that could kill me. Even when I know she cares.

I’ve seen the way she looks at me. She can’t deny it. She feels something for me, which is why it annoys me when she refuses to acknowledge me.

I press a kiss to my lips and point it in her direction, staring at her until I catch at least a hint of her gaze. It’s not enough, but it’ll do … for now.


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