Page 59 of Ruined By Capture

"Are you okay?" he asks, glancing over at me.

"Yes," I lie, then amend it with something closer to truth. "Just... exhausted."

The word barely captures the bone-deep weariness that's settled into me. My body feels heavy, like I'm moving against rushing water. The adrenaline that kept me functioning through the convenience store horror has drained away, leaving nothing but hollow fatigue.

"I've never felt this tired before," I admit. "It's like something inside me has been used up."

Alessio's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "That's normal. After what happened."

I close my eyes but immediately snap them open when images of the man I shot flash across my mind. "Will it always be like this? Seeing it when I close my eyes?"

"No," he says with certainty. "It gets easier to live with."

The way he says it—like a hard-won truth rather than empty comfort—makes me believe him. He would know. How manypeople has he killed? How many lives has he taken to protect the Feretti family?

And now I've joined those ranks. One life taken to save another.

I don't realize we've arrived until the SUV stops moving. The drive passes in a fog, my mind replaying the convenience store scene on endless loop.

"We're here," Alessio says, his voice cutting through my rumination.

I blink, focusing on what's outside the window. The house sits perched on the edge of a cliff, modern and sleek with large windows reflecting the moonlight. Below, I catch glimpses of dark water crashing against rocks. Something about the isolation calms me.

"Is this... safe?" I ask, my voice hoarse.

"One of Damiano's properties. Off the books." Alessio presses a button on a small remote, and a gate slides open. "No digital footprint."

The SUV glides forward and another button press reveals a garage door opening beneath the house. Alessio drives inside and the door closes behind us with a mechanical hum. The space is pristine—nothing like the warehouse. This is a real home.

When the engine cuts I sit motionless, my body unwilling to move. Everything feels heavy.

"I need a shower," I say, the words barely making it past my lips. "Desperately."

Alessio nods, coming around to my side of the vehicle. He doesn't touch me but his presence guides me to a door at the back of the garage. It opens into a hallway with warm recessed lighting and polished hardwood floors. The air smells clean—like lemon polish and fresh linens.

We pass a spacious kitchen with marble countertops and stainless steel appliances. Beyond that, a living room with plushfurniture facing floor-to-ceiling windows that would showcase the ocean view in daylight.

Alessio leads me up a curved staircase to the second floor. The carpet is soft beneath my feet. He opens a door to reveal a bedroom.

"Bathroom's through there," he says, pointing to a door on the right. "You'll find everything you need. Towels, soap, shampoo."

I stand awkwardly in the center of the room, still feeling disconnected from my body.

"I think clothes havebeen left for you in here." Alessio tugs a dresser drawer open,adding darkly; "Matteo told them all that you were running around wearing only my T-shirt."

He attempts a grin and I appreciate his attempt to lighten the mood now that we’re safe. I do my best to respond but my facial muscles are ice cold.

"OK. I'll be downstairs if you need anything," he says, backing awkwardly toward the door. "Take your time."

I wait until Alessio's footsteps fade down the stairs before I move to the dresser. My limbs feel disconnected, like I'm operating a body cobbled together by Dr Frankenstein. The drawer slides open, revealing neatly folded clothes in soft fabrics.

I run my fingers over cotton t-shirts and leggings—all looking barely worn, if at all. Tucked in the corner is a pair of pale blue pajamas. They still have price tags attached. Another drawer reveals underwear, also new with tags. Designer brands I recognize from London shopping trips with Ashley.

For a moment I just stand there in a daze, holding these immaculate clothes that belong to someone else.

I gather some clothes and push open the bathroom door. The sight stops me in my tracks.

The bathroom is enormous—gleaming white marble with gleaming gold fixtures. A freestanding tub sits beneath a window that must offer an incredible ocean view by day. The glass-enclosed shower could fit three people comfortably, with multiple showerheads and built-in benches.

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