Page 54 of On Your Knees

Benedict’s reaction is immediate—he shakes his head quickly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “It’s best you focus on healing,” he says, his tone firm yet gentle. “Have you heard from Christopher?”

I nod, feeling a pang of unease. “I called Jessica to let her know I wouldn’t be able to take Nate for a while because of my accident. I told her I was recovering from a biking accident.”

Benedict’s reaction is telling. He lets out an audible huff, clearly dissatisfied. “Is that what we’re going with? A biking accident?” His voice is laced with frustration, but there’s also a hidden tension beneath his words.

I try to keep my composure. “He said he’d kill me if I told anyone,” I remind him softly, recalling the terror I felt the day Christopher attacked me.

At the mention of Christopher’s threat, Benedict’s eyes flash with a mix of fury and something deeper—an emotion that I can’t quite place. His jaw tightens, and he takes a moment to compose himself before speaking again.

“Eva,” he begins, his voice softer but no less intense, “I understand you’re scared. But right now, it’s crucial for you to stay safe and focus on your recovery. There are things happening that I can’t fully explain yet, but I promise you, I’m doing everything I can to protect you.”

His words are both reassuring and troubling. I can see the strain in his features, the lines of worry etched deeply into his face. He’s clearly wrestling with something, and his frustration with my explanation only adds to the mystery.

As I watch him, I realize that there’s more to this situation than meets the eye. Benedict is fighting his own battles, and while his dedication to my safety is undeniable, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s hiding something significant. Something that could change everything.

Club Greed has been incredibly accommodating, allowing me all the time I needed to recover from my injuries. But as I prepare to return to work tonight, a flutter of anxiety takes hold.

Benedict notices my unease. “I’ll be right beside you the whole time,” he assures me, his voice steady and calming.

“What if Christopher shows up?” I ask, my voice trembling.

Benedict shakes his head with certainty. “I’ve already spoken with Devereaux Huxley. He’s assured me that Christopher won’t be attending tonight.”

A small sigh of relief escapes me. The thought of Christopher’s presence has been a shadow over my recovery. The healing process has been slow but steady, and my body feels significantly better now. I’ve finally reached a point where I feel ready to face the club again.

As I walk through the doors of Club Greed, I try to focus on the familiar hum of activity, the clink of glasses, and the low, pulsating beat of the music. A small knot of tension remains in my stomach, eased slightly by the reassurance Benedict has given me.

“You’re doing great,” Benedict reassures me, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back as we weave through the bustling club. His touch, though gentle, provides a much-needed anchor, keeping my anxiety at bay.

I nod, trying to steady my breath, but my gaze suddenly locks onto a figure across the room. Lazarus Delgado. He’s hard to miss, exuding an air of power and control that makes everyone in his vicinity feel small. My pulse quickens, and I lean closer to Benedict. “He’s here,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the thrum of the music.

Benedict spins around smoothly, his expression changing in an instant. He’s all charm and ease now, flashing a practiced smile as soon as Lazarus catches sight of us. There’s a tension in the air, but Benedict’s confidence helps me mask my own nerves.

“Benedict, Lina, please join us this evening,” Lazarus calls out, his voice deep and commanding as he gestures toward a secluded part of the club. His dark eyes settle on me for a fraction too long, sending a chill down my spine. I force a small smile, hoping it hides the fear simmering beneath my skin.

We both nod and fall in step behind him, following Lazarus down a dimly lit hallway. The atmosphere shifts with every step, the club’s noise fading into the distance as we approach a private room at the end. The air feels heavier here, like stepping into the lion’s den. My heart pounds against my ribcage, but I focus on Benedict beside me. He walks with purpose, his body language confident and controlled, like he’s done this a thousand times before.

The dark hallway stretches on, every shadow feeling like a threat, but we finally arrive at the door. I brace myself as Lazarus holds it open, his smile never reaching his eyes as we step inside. The room is plush, with rich red velvet drapes and low lighting, the kind of place where secrets are made and kept.

I steal a glance at Benedict, and he gives me a reassuring nod, but his eyes are sharp, alert, always watching.

Chapter 27

Benedict

I don’t even know what I’m doing here anymore. The lines of my mission have blurred beyond recognition, overtaken by something far more personal. My objective, once so clear, has fallen to the wayside, replaced by a singular focus: taking care of Eva.

When I saw her lying on her kitchen floor, bloodied and bruised, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. The image of her shattered body is seared into my brain, haunting me in quiet moments. Every time I close my eyes, I see her there—helpless, fragile, with those once-bright eyes dimmed by pain and fear. It wasn’t just the sight of her broken body; it was the knowledge that I hadn’t been there to stop it. That I hadn’t protected her.

I’ve been trained to maintain control, to keep my emotions at arm’s length, but the moment I cradled her in my arms, all that discipline unraveled. My mission, the real reason I’m in thismess, became a distant echo. All I could think about was getting her to safety, getting her to breathe. When she whispered my name, weak and barely audible, it tore something open inside me.

Now, as I stand here beside her, I wonder how far I’ve fallen. I’ve lied to her—more than once. And I’m going to have to lie again, keep more secrets. There’s so much I haven’t told her, so much I can’t tell her. I’ve spun my own web of deceit, but for some reason, it feels different when it’s Eva. I want to be honest with her, to tell her everything about Christopher, about the Delgados, about why I’m really here. But I can’t. Not yet.

She stands beside me, her face still bearing the faint bruises from Christopher’s attack, covered by makeup, and my fists clench involuntarily. I want to rip him apart for what he did to her, for daring to lay a hand on her. It’s a primal rage, the kind I’ve only felt a few times in my life, and it takes everything in me to keep it from bubbling to the surface.

Eva doesn’t know it, but she’s changed everything for me. She’s the reason I’ve lost sight of the mission. The reason I’m here, in this dimly lit club, playing a role I’m not even sure I want to play anymore. But I don’t regret it. I’d do it all over again just to see her safe.

“How are you, Father?” Enzo’s voice cuts through the thick tension in the room, his eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before shifting to Eva, lingering too long. It’s a leering, predatory gaze that makes my skin crawl and my blood boil. The way he looks at her—like she’s nothing more than an object, something to be devoured—sends a murderous urge through me. Every man in this room seems to have the same expression when they look at her, and it takes every ounce of restraint I have not to lash out.

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