Page 92 of Inside the Sun

Dad inhales sharply. "A gardener on a banquet? Ragnar, please be careful. These people are cold-blooded killers."

"I’ll try my best, Dad."

"Time is of the essence, Ragnar. If Ferro has a new boy—"

"I know, Dad! Geez, I know!"

He spent the next ten minutes warning me and rushing me at the same time. And that’s exactly how our conversations always go. I can only imagine how upset they’d be if they knew what I’ve actually been doing instead of rescuing the people I love more than life.

I’m a soldier who’s gone astray.

Unable to focus on my mission, struggling with my confused mind.

Throughout the day, pushing thoughts of Sun out of my head became a full-time job. Still, the moment that bastard approached him…

That fake bratty attitude of Sun is just a mask. He’s a kid bluffing his way through fear.

Damn it. Somehow, I just feel him, sense his desperation.

Why him? Why is he the only one in this entire mansion full of people I’m supposed to ignore, but he’s the one who refuses to disappear from my head?

Wrestling with my conscience, I spend the day circling the garden, constantly finding excuses to be outside, hoping to catcha glimpse of Sun. His huge green eyes are burned into my mind, looking at me with hope, asking for justa bit of normal.

He’s repeated it several times, like it’s the most important thing in the world. Like it’s his lifeline. I want to give it to him. But I’ve already listed every single reason why I shouldn’t. That list is long.

I see him a few times throughout the day. On the patio once, playing the harp. I keep my distance, only stealing glances at him from afar. And I catch him looking back at me more than once.

Finally, my shift is over, and I head to the storage room to drop off my tools. Then I remember I haven’t cleared the rose vines from the gazebo. That job’s still waiting for me.

So I grab the toolbox and head back into the garden.

But just as I’m leaving the shed, I notice something odd. The guard booth overlooking the inner garden is empty. Old Bonzo usually sits there playing solitaire on his tablet.

I walk back into the garden, a strange sense of unease settling over me. Even from far away, I can hear what’s happening at the center. I slow down, step into the bushes.

I listen.

And then I freeze. What I hear chills me to the bone.

Vito, Massimo, and Franco are by the gazebo, hidden behind a thick cluster of shrubs. And they’re talking to Sun.

What the fuck are those bastards doing?

My pulse spikes. I instantly feel the plates of my internal armor shifting beneath my skin, sliding through the lines on my ribs and pushing outward to shield my torso. The adrenaline hits so hard it lets the armor move painlessly.

I catch the end of Vito’s sentence:

"…did I get it wrong?"

Sun snaps back, his voice proving everything I’ve already figured out about him. He sounds defiant, arrogant even, but underneath that? Fear.

"What the fuck are you talking about?! I talked to the guy once, about spider mites. I don’t know him. Maybe he thought he should step in because you were being a dick…"

Suddenly, I hear a smack, skin against skin, followed by a struggle. I clench my fists.

"Get off me, you fucking asshole!" Sun yells.

I shut my eyes. I need to assess the situation, costs and gains, risks and chances, just like I used to do in the military. But I don’t have the time. I already know that if I go in there now, it’s over.

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