Page 57 of The Shadow King's Brother

“What did you do to me?”

He tilts his head, smile widening. “Just a little incision, pretty-face. Slipped in something slow. Elegant. Nothing fatal—unless you push me. It’s reversible, if you behave.”

He knows. He knows exactly what he’s doing. What he put in me.

“And the former cop act?” he adds with a smirk. “Impressive. Really. You almost fooled everyone.”

The air freezes.

How the hell does he know that?

“I won’t do anything,” I whisper. “Just—please. Remove it.”

With shaking fingers, I lift my shirt. My breath hitches.

The wound is jagged, stitched with rough, medical thread, ringed in dried blood. Like a butcher’s experiment. My stomach flips.

He stares down at me like he’s proud of it. “That’s gonna sting for a while, Galli. But even like this…” His gaze drifts over me—slow, deliberate. “You’re something to look at.”

My pulse spikes, but I hold his stare.

“I’ve studied you,” he says softly. “Your records. Your file. Your face. I know how you think. How you move. You’re smarter than they give you credit for. And fuck, you’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

His voice is smooth as silk dipped in venom.

“You just wait,” I spit. “When I get out of here, I’ll make you pay.”

He smiles, like I’m entertaining. “You won’t. But I admire the fire.”

He leans in, his voice brushing my ear. “No one’s coming for you, you know. Well… maybe Elio. That was expected. Planned, actually.”

My blood turns to ice.

“He’ll come for you,” he murmurs. “He always does. But by the time he does…”

He lets the sentence hang, heavy with implication.

“…it’ll be too late.”

I narrow my eyes. “You want him to come?”

He pulls back just enough to study my face, his own unreadable. “Great question,” he says. “But I can’t answer it in much detail, now can I?”

He runs a hand through his hair, then shrugs like we’re just having a casual conversation over coffee.

“All I can say is… someone higher up needs you here. They know he’ll come for you. That’s the point.” His voice lowers, a shadow slipping into the space between us. “It was never about you, Galli. It’s always been about him. Him and his brother.”

He pauses, tilting his head slightly, studying me in a way that makes my skin crawl.

“But me?” His mouth curves. “I see your potential. I always have. You might not have noticed me, but I’ve been watching you.”

I swallow hard.

Galli, again. Like I’m just a name on a page. Not a person. Not a woman. Just leverage. Just a prize to be moved around.

But there’s something else behind his eyes too—something not quite hatred. Not quite admiration. Something twisted. Possessive.

He doesn’t just need me here.

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