Page 28 of Thawed Gladiator: Victor

“Captivity?” she finishes quietly.

“Let us say ‘unexpected situations.’” I try the crispy yellow oval she calls a hash brown. “Though I doubt even his philosophy covered whatever this is.”

Her laugh breaks the tension. “Probably not. We’ve gotten pretty creative with our food processing.”

“Creative is a generous word for it.” I eye the perfectly shaped oval suspiciously. “Though I admit, it holds a certain… fascination.”

For the next few minutes, she asks questions about arena life, and I find myself sharing lighter memories—the practical jokes between fighters, the ridiculous exhibition matches, the ways we found to maintain humanity in inhuman conditions.

“You make it sound almost fun,” she says finally, then her eyes widen and her expression falls. Perhaps she remembers she owns me and holds my life in her hands.

“We adapt. We survive. We find moments of joy where we can.” I meet her eyes. “As now.”

The understanding that passes between us feels enormous and dangerous and precious. This simple meal in a garishly bright eating house has somehow become something more—a space where we can almost forget our respective roles, almost be simply ourselves.

Marco’s pointed cough breaks the spell. “Boss will be wondering where we are.”

Reality crashes back as we gather our brightly colored wrappings. But something has shifted; some wall has lowered just slightly. In sharing memories of my past, I’ve given Maya a glimpse of who I truly am. And in her responses, her genuine interest and understanding, I’ve seen who she might be—if circumstances were different.

Someday she will tell me the secrets she hides, admit the lies she’s told me, and explain this inexplicable world I find myself in. Until then, some of my barriers will remain.

Chapter Twenty-One

Maya

The email notification chimes just as I’m finishing the gym’s monthly invoices. A new message from a name I’ve only seen in the news: Laura Turner. My stomach dips and squeezes. I’m not sure if I should be terrified or relieved.

Damian looks up from his journal, where he sits cross-legged on my bed. Even after sharing the space for weeks, the sight of him there still makes my heart skip. In our apartment, he still wears the too-small T-shirt that stretches across his broad shoulders as he writes in his journal, his expression peaceful despite our complicated circumstances.

“Trouble?” he asks, noting my tension.

“Maybe.” I open the email with trembling fingers. “Oh god.”

He sets aside his writing, moving to stand behind me in well-trained silence. His presence feels like a solid wall of warmth at my back. “Tell me.”

Somehow, even before reading it, I know the time for lies is over. Taking a deep breath, I read aloud.

“Dear Maya, I’m the archaeologist who discovered theFortunashipwreck last year in the Norwegian Sea. I imagine you’ve heard of me. Seems like everyone on Earth knows of the thawed gladiators.

“I’ve been trying to track down a… missing friend. Some of the best private investigators in the world have been searching for him. I had to reach out when I heard rumors about a new fighter in Vegas matching his description at a private match with you at ringside.”

My stomach sinks even further as she validates that Victor’s presence is no longer a secret.

“The other men we found are safe in Missouri, learning about modern life. They’re amazing people—especially Varro, with whom…” My heart squeezes as I silently read the rest of the sentence. “I’ve developed a deep and loving relationship.”

I guess it’s not just Damian; perhaps all the gladiators are irresistible.

“His friends and I desperately want to find him, help him. Thrax, Cassius, Lucius, all the others.”

It’s as if she knows I’ll read this to him, wants him to rest assured that he’s not alone in this incomprehensible tangle of confusion.

“But the pharmaceutical companies are causing serious problems. They’re offering huge rewards for access to preserved tissue samples. Some of their private security teams have already tried to break into our facility.”

My stomach clenches at having this level of danger confirmed by yet another source. Damian’s situation is even more deadly than I imagined.

“Please, if you know anything about him, be careful. These companies are dangerous. They don’t care about him as a person—they just want to study how his body survived two thousand years of freezing. If we’ve heard the rumors, so have they.”

My heart is thundering in my chest as I parse through all the repercussions.

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