Page 166 of Made for Sinners

I stared at him, stunned. “Fix it? You think this can be fixed?”

“I’m trying to keep you alive,” he said, voice tight. “That’s the only thing that matters right now.”

I shook my head. “You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to play the hero when you’re the one holding the keys.”

He didn’t respond.

I turned away, my hands trembling.

I didn’t want to cry.

I didn’t want to scream.

I wanted Dante.

I wanted his voice in my ear, his arms around me, his rage burning hotter than mine. I wanted the safety of his fury. The certainty of his love.

I wanted home. I don’t know when I started to think of Dante as home but here we were, and all I wanted was him.

And I was trapped in a gilded cage, surrounded by enemies who smiled like friends and brothers who kidnapped women to make a point.

I crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, my hands clenched in my lap.

Nikolai stood by the window, his silhouette framed by the pale morning light.

“I’ll have food sent up,” he said after a long moment. “And clothes. You’ll be more comfortable.”

I didn’t answer.

He turned to leave, but paused at the door.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

I looked up at him, my voice flat. “Then let me go.”

He didn’t respond.

Just closed the door behind him.

The food cametwenty minutes later. A silver tray with eggs, toast, fruit, and tea. No guards. No threats. Just a quiet knock and a polite servant who didn’t make eye contact.

I didn’t touch it.

I sat by the window, staring out at the garden below, watching the wind move through the hedges like a whisper. I wondered if Dante knew. If he was already tearing the city apart to find me. If he’d burn the Romanovs to the ground just to get me back.

I hoped so.

I needed him to.

I needed to believe that someone would come for me.

Because I wasn’t sure how much longer I could wait.

I looked at the window again.

At the bushes below.

At the sky above.

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