Page 100 of The Freedom in Captivity

But wait—here. Nico saidhere. As in…he’s back? With forces? But Nico wouldn’t be standing in his office, hugging his wife after only leaving for ten minutes if Dad’s arrived with an army.

“H-here? How?” I tread toward him and Della, needing to be closer, to ensure I heard him correctly. My legs feel heavy, my attention sliding from Nico to the door at his back. I hadn’t considered this part of my plan. Handing over Dad’s location—fine. Butseeing—

“The Seven. Guess they were tired of his shit too and they brought him here.”

Della opens her mouth, likely with a million questions, but he rests a finger against her parted lips, shaking his head. He’ll probably wait till they’re alone to say more. Or at the very least, until I’m gone.

“Come.” He tips his head toward the door, and when I step by him, so does Della. “Not you,” he tells her. “You don’t need to see what’s next.”

“You told me I wouldn’t be shielded.”

“You don’t need to see a man’s death,” he argues, that statement lodging in my chest.

I know Dad’s dying today. Hell, Iwantit to happen—made it happen. But hearing his blatant fact is…I don’t know. Striking. Makes my stomach ache with the unknown, my heart beat differently as reality comes crashing around me.

“In case you’ve forgotten,” Della continues, stepping by her husband and toward me, “I’ve already seen death when I hopped in front of itfor you.” She meets my eyes, nods, and somehow, some fucking how, we’re united. “I’m getting answers from the bastard, whether you like it or not, Nico Corsetti.”

With a final grumble, she loops her arm through mine, making me jolt with her touch. The comradeship is unexpected but welcome and she pulls me toward the door, only pausing to glance back at her sister, who shakes her head.

“Stay here, ‘kay,” Rafael murmurs to Isabelle. “He’ll pay for what he’s done to you and your family.”

“I’ll sit with her,” Aurora offers. “Tell Rosen I’m here.”

While the three of them remain behind, Nico takes the lead with Della and me behind him. Lorenzo and Caterina follow us, with Rafael beside them. No one talks as I’m led through the various hallways and toward a room I haven’t seen yet. A literal ballroom.

But it’s not the grand room that draws my awe, but the grim vision in the centre of it. Amidst the shiny flooring, the expensive art hanging on the walls, and the arched entranceways, there’s a blot of black in the centre.

Death.

Or, soon to be, anyway.

Dad is tied to a chair in the centre of the room, his wrists bound to the armrests, and his ankles to the chair’s legs. His head is slumped forward, clearly passed out. He looks sicker than I’ve ever seen him, like he’s lost twenty pounds. His cheeks hollowed in, dark marks beneath his eyes.

Rosen is standing behind him, glaring, while Flynn’s positioned in front. He glances up at our entry, his eyes immediately finding me, and I spot an apology there.

Nico stops beside Flynn as his parents head to the other side and Della leads me closer to Dad.

“Start,” Nico commands, and Flynn lifts a bucket of water I didn’t previously notice. Water spills from the edges with his jerky movements, but he quickly angles it and tosses the pail’s worth of water onto Dad. His body jolts, but he doesn’t waken, and water flows off him, creating a large puddle at our feet. The edges greet my toes, but I don’t shy away, my attention on the scene.

Flynn walks through the water and bends slightly, tapping his palm against Dad’s wet cheek. Once, twice. “Wake up.” Three times, and then Dad’s lashes flutter.

My breath rattles through my lungs. Holding it in until he woke, and now that he has…

“Thanks, Flynn.” Nico’s words must hold a different meaning because Flynn nods and paces away, his eyes immediately finding mine, that apology still there.

I want to go to him, but I don’t budge from Della’s side. I want his arms around me. Why, for what reason…I don’t know. But I do. To feel a partnership through this.

But then Della squeezes my hand and it’s enough of a band-aid for the moment.

Dad coughs and slowly lifts his head, blinking rapidly to wake himself quicker than what’s natural. “What the fuck?” His voice is hoarse, and I wonder what was done to him to get him across the country in this state. He scans the room, an awareness settling in with every person he spots.

Lorenzo—shock. His throat moves in a rough swallow.

Rafael—fear. His face whitens.

Nico—acceptance. He rolls his neck and meets Nico’s glare head-on.

When he finds me beside Della—anger. The paleness of his fear flushes a deep red of rage. His teeth press together and he jerks in the impossible binds that prevent him from moving.

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