Page 44 of Infamous
“I thought you understood you’re not part of my life anymore,” I say. “Leave me alone.”
Something cracks behind his eyes. His charm drops an inch.
“You think you can just…”
“Yes.” I step closer. “And I did. Now walk away, Michael, before I call security.”
The air tightens. His temper flickers, but I don’t back down. He wants my fear, but all I give him is silence.
I turn and walk, steady, deliberate. Before the darkness swallows him, I stop and turn back to look at him.
“You never did return your key to my place,” I remind him. “It’s useless now. Toss it.”
He doesn’t answer. I keep walking. Each step cuts a thread. Each breath feels like my first. Behind me, the night swallows him whole. And for the first time in years, the air belongs to me again.
27
LUCIAN
Every cell in my body thrums with violence, vibrating with the need to take the man apart. Piece by fucking piece. Scream by scream. To carve him down until there’s nothing left but silence and a bloody stain in the dirt. My fists ache for it, my blood surges with it, but silence coils around my throat like a bloody noose.
The Gatti brothers don’t ask for much. But when they do, their word is iron. Iron I can’t bend, no matter how it burns.Keep your bloodlust on a leash. Don’t attract attention. Stay in the shadows.
So I stay. In the dark. Watching.
Nadia walks away from the man, her chin high, shoulders squared, fire in every deliberate step. For one terrible, beautiful moment, I’m flooded with pride.That’s my girl.Fierce. Untouchable. Unbreakable even in the face of a man who doesn’t understand when to walk away.
But then my gaze slides back to him. To the twitch in his jaw, the storm rolling in his eyes. I know men like him. Hell, I’m the one they call when it’s time to bury his type. He’s the kind who appears civil yet hides underneath layers of fake charm.
The kind who won’t let go.
He’ll take her defiance as a challenge, not a line in the sand. He’ll twist her fire into fuel for his obsession. And that’s what makes me furious—that fury is tighter than the leash around my throat, more furious than the oath I made to the Gattis to stay out of trouble.
Nadia thinks she’s safe. She thinks changing her locks, rejecting him, cutting him loose is enough. It isn’t. Men like him don’t take “no” for an answer. They don’t stop. They keep coming back, again and again, circling closer each time. Until one night, it isn’t words he throws at her. It’s fists.
And when that night comes, no oath in the world will stop me.
I step deeper into the shadows of the alley, every muscle coiled so tight I can hear the strain in my bones. My fists clench until my knuckles crack, sharp and loud in the silence. The urge to break my word burns through me like acid. I want to rip him off the street right now, grind him into the concrete, and show her she’ll never have to fear him again.
But I don’t. I can’t. The promise to the Gattis rides me harder than any chain ever could. Not steel, not concrete walls, not the weight of a life sentence - this oath is heavier. Because I chose it. Because I swore it. Because it brought me my freedom, and I’m no good to Nadia if I’m not here to protect her.
So I bite back the fury. I grind my teeth against the need to act now, to strike first. It feels wrong in my bones. Every instinct screams for violence, for swift and brutal correction.
Nadia keeps walking, her shoes striking the pavement in a steady rhythm. Not rushed. Not cowering. Brave. God, she’s so goddamn brave. I match her stride for stride, silent, my shadow mapped to hers. My eyes rake the street, sweeping faces, corners, the cut of every shadow - waiting for the man to step out, to make the mistake Iknowis coming.
And then she pauses. Stops dead under the pale cone of a streetlamp. Her head tilts, her shoulders stiffen. Slowly, she glances back over her shoulder, her gaze sweeping the darkness like she’s searching for something.
For me. She feels me. She always did. Even now, after years and oceans of silence, she feelssomething.
My breath catches as I press myself deeper into the dark, fighting the magnetic pull that wants me to step into the light, to let her see me. My heart pounds harder than it has in a decade, battering my ribs like it wants to break out and spill itself at her feet.
Her eyes linger, cutting through shadow like she could peel me out of it if she stares hard enough. But then she shakes her head, dismissing the thought, and keeps walking. The moment breaks, but I know - deep down, the kind of knowledge that can’t be unlearned - that she senses me.
She always will. Because I’ll always be there, orbiting her, tethered to her soul, whether she wants me or not.
I track her steps until she disappears into the warm glow of her building’s entrance. Only when the door swings shut behind her do I finally let myself breathe. My hand flexes open, blood rushing back into my fingers, my nails leaving crescents carved deep into my palm.
The promise to the Gattis sits heavier than chains. Heavier than bars.
