His jaw ticked.“To make sure you don’t jump out the window.It’s a steep drop.”
“Why?”
A long silence.His eyes locked on mine, steady and cold.“Because I don’t trust you not to do it.”
Trust?You want to talk to me about trust, buddy?I wouldn’t throw you any further than I could throw a dagger.
I pulled the blanket tighter around myself, suddenly hyperaware of every bruise, every cut, every weakness on display.The room felt too bright, too exposed.
“Stop staring at me,” I whispered.
“I can’t.”His words were simple, like it was a fact he didn’t enjoy admitting.
Before I could respond, a knock interrupted the quiet in the room.Atlas stiffened.A man walked into the room unannounced.He looked so much like Atlas that he could only have been his brother.He was younger.Rougher.A crueler kind of beautiful than Atlas, smirking like sin as soon as his eyes landed on me.
“Well, sleeping beauty is awake,” he commented.“Good.Saves us the guesswork.”
My throat tightened.“Guesswork about what?”
“That depends,” he replied, leaning against the wall.“On whether you’re planning to stab my brother through the chest the first chance you get.”
Atlas shot him a look.His brother only grinned wider.
I pulled myself upright, ignoring the pull in my ribs.“Give me a knife and I’ll be sure to aim right.”
The brother laughed, a harsh, delighted sound.“I like her.”
Atlas didn’t smile.He continued to stand there staring at me, tension radiating off him.
“Enough, Marcello,” he snapped.“Get out.”
Marcello shrugged.“Fine.Text me if she tries to kill you.”
He left as loudly as he had arrived, shutting the door too hard behind him.
Silence settled again.Heavy.Watching.
Atlas dragged a hand over his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose like the weight of everything was finally catching up to him.
“Don’t mind him.He’s an asshole.”
“So are you,” I pointed out.
His eyes lifted to mine.Cold.Tired.Unflinching.He didn’t contradict me.Instead, he took the hit like he deserved it.He stepped back, giving me a sliver of space.
“If you’re thinking of escaping, don’t try anything.”
My spine went rigid.
“The front door locks from the outside,” he revealed.“The elevator needs a key.And unless you want to gamble with a twelve-story fall…” He tilted his chin toward the wall of glass overlooking the city.“…that’s the only other exit you’ve got.”
I kept my gaze pinned to him, refusing to even glance at the window behind me.Refusing to let him see the flicker of fear tightening my throat.
“Why are you doing this?”My voice barely made it out.It felt scraped raw.
“It’s for your own good.”His tone was controlled, maddeningly steady.“Because out there?”He jerked his chin toward the skyline—toward a freedom that wasn’t real.“Isn’t any safer for you than in here.”
I swallowed hard, my throat constricting.“I thought you said Sokolov was dead.If he’s gone, what else is there to worry about?”