Page 122 of Dirty Game
"Then I'll stop her permanently." The way he says it, flat and final, I know he means it. Sienna’s days are numbered.
I try to sit up, and immediately regret it.
Pain flares everywhere—ribs, back, wrists, where the restraints cut deep.
Varrick is there instantly, hands gentle as he adjusts the bed, fixes my pillows, moves me like I'm made of glass.
"What did they do to me?" I ask, though I remember most of it.
When he broke my fingers. The waterboarding. The electricity. All the ways Mikhail wanted to make me miserable.
But there are blank spots, places where my mind has mercy-edited the memories.
"Nothing that won't heal," he says, but his eyes tell a different story. His eyes sayI almost lost you. His eyes sayI'll kill them all for this.
"How did you find me?"
"Doesn’t matter. The point is, I found you."
We sit in silence for a moment, his thumb tracing circles on my palm.
I look over my injuries, the bandages around my wrists, my ribs wrapped tight, something wrong with my left shoulder. But I'm alive.
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
"For what?"
"For making you choose. For being the weakness she could exploit. For not being able to fight them off."
His free hand comes up to cup my face, infinitely gentle over what feels like bruises. "You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. This is on me. On my past. On my failure to kill her when I had the chance."
"You couldn't. She was pregnant."
"I should have found another way." His thumb brushes my cheekbone. "I should have protected you better. I could have killed her and taken him after he was born. Fuck, I should’ve done that."
Before I can respond, there's a knock at the door. Soft, tentative. Not like medical staff.
"Come in," Varrick calls, his hand moving automatically to the gun I know is hidden under his jacket.
The door opens slowly, and my heart stops.
It's Dante.
"Hi," he says quietly, looking between us like he's not sure he's allowed to be here.
"Dante?" Varrick stands, confusion clear. "How did you?—"
"Mama sent me," the boy says, and we both freeze. "She... she brought me here. Told me to come up alone. Said I had to..." He pauses, bites his already injured lip. "Said I had to say goodbye properly this time. To the lady. And then come back downstairs."
My blood turns to ice.
Sienna is here. In the building.
She sent her little boy alone to—what? Traumatize him? Deliver a message? Make him watch me die?
"What else did she say?" Varrick's voice is controlled, but I can see the rage building underneath.
Dante shifts from foot to foot. "She said to tell the lady that some people don't deserve second chances. And that blood always wins." His voice is mechanical, like he's reciting lines he doesn't understand. "And that Daddy will understand when he has to choose again."
