Page 26 of Cage the Storm
I didn’t expectthem to speak so kindly about him. Nico didn’t strike me as the generous type, not in the way most people define it anyway. Power, yes. Control, one hundred percent. But kindness? This isn’t the man I thought I knew.
The medical team didn’t sugarcoat it. They laid out everything Nico had done to keep the women safe. The resources he fought for. The care that didn’t stop when the paperwork did. The fragile sense of safety he built from nothing. No one called him a hero. But no one ignored the wreckage he held together, either.
Their words stuck with me long after the conversation ended. It made me question everything I thought I knew about him. He was always three steps ahead. But there was more to him than that, something I couldn’t pretend not to see. And no matter how much I wanted to keep my guard up, to stay at a safe distance, I knew I had to face it.
I find him in his office, with his desk covered in neatly arranged papers, which is almost obsessively precise. The room’s quiet but charged with the kind of stillness that comes when Nico is left alone with his thoughts.
“Nicolai,” I say, my voice cutting through the quiet room.
He looks up, his gaze softening slightly when he sees me. “Luna.”
I meet his eyes, feeling the after-effect of what I’m about to say. “I spoke to the medical team, and they told me about everything you’ve done for the women.”
His expression doesn’t change, but I see something flare in his eyes. He doesn’t respond; he waits to see if I’ll continue.
“I just wanted to say thank you. You didn’t have to, but you did anyway. And that matters.”
He’s quiet, and I can see his wheels turning, trying to figure out if I’m being sincere. Then, finally, he lets out a breath, his shoulders relaxing as he leans back.
“Don’t confuse it with kindness,” he says. “It’s just what needed to be done.”
“Maybe,” I refuse to break eye contact. “But even necessary things don’t always get done. You made sure they did.”
He says nothing, and I get it. Compliments are far and few in his world, and I gave him one. Now he doesn’t know what to do with it.
“Anything else?” he asks.
“No,” I say, stepping back toward the door. “That’s all. For now.” I don’t bother to mention anything about seeing the staff come and go because it’s a moot point now. And as I turn to leave, I feel his eyes on me.
As I walk out the door, the realization hits me like a ton of bricks. Sophie wasn’t the only one. She wasn’t alone, not in the way she was pulled from whatever hell she came from. This house held more than just her story. Nico’s choices weren’t impulsive. They were persistent.
How many more women were there? How many had passed through the cellar, terrified and trapped, and somehow found themselves plucked from that nightmare by Nico’s hand? Andwhat happened to them? Did they move on? Did they leave this place behind forever, or were they still here?
I try to piece together the fragments of his generosity. For all his power, for all his cold, clinical way of dealing with the world, he chose to intervene. But why? What drove him to carry the weight of their survival? And why does he keep it so tightly hidden?
The questions won’t let up, circling in my mind, pressing for answers I’m not sure I’ll ever find. Because the truth about Nico—who he is, what he’s capable of—is more complicated than I ever wanted to admit. And the more I dig, the more I realize I’ve barely begun to scratch the surface.
The memory of the cellar still clings to me. I hadn’t expected the rooms to be so spacious, enough to comfortably fit multiple women without feeling crowded or confined. The beds, though simple, offered comfort, and it was clear that care had gone into their arrangement so every woman could have a bit of privacy.
The kitchen’s not extravagant, but functional. The bathrooms are clean and cared for. But the infirmary is impressive. It’s not an afterthought. It’s been maintained for years, always ready and prepared to bring in the medical team immediately. They couldn’t say enough about Nico. And one thing was certain: no one who came here had to suffer without help.
This isn’t just an old wine cellar. It’s a fortress to keep its victims safe. To protect them from the dangers that lurk just outside of these walls. And from wicked men like my dead husband, and a world that looks the other way on trafficking men and women.
I’m uneasy with the thought that Nico defied Giovanni to build this sanctuary for victims too sick to be sold to nefarious men for sex. With that sudden thought, I have more questionsthan when I thanked him for his kindness. Did he allow them to leave, or did he heal them only to sell them as intended?
The thought unsettles me. Not because I doubt what I’ve seen, but because I don’t know what will come next.
For them.
For me.
And for him.
For a moment, I stare at the ornate door leading to Nico’s office. Wondering how long I’ve let my thoughts wander. I’ve lived in this house long enough to know the man who commands this space. And yet, standing here now, the questions I didn’t dare ask earlier are tucked in the back of my mind. Did he save lives, or did he only rearrange their chains?
My reflection in the mirror on the far wall gives me the courage to anchor myself to the floor. Whatever answers await, I’m done waiting for them to find me. It’s time I decide what role I’ll play in Nico’s world, and what role he’ll play in mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
