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“Still am. Well, Oscar and Zaire. Their uncle, not so much.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips before fading. “It's complicated.”

"We're sharing a cell in some psychopath's private dungeon. I think we're past complicated."

“We’ve been protecting her.”

"We?"

“The Petrov Twins, Talon St. James, and I. We call ourselves The Second Sons.”

“That a stupid fucking name,” I blurt out.

Alex's mouth quirks up in the barest hint of a smile. “Not my choice.”

A moment of silence stretches between us, filled with the hum of the ventilation system and distant footsteps in the corridor. I take the opportunity to really look at Alex, not just his injuries, but the man himself. He's changed since St. Jude's. The lanky teenager has been replaced by lean muscle, his once-boyish features hardened into something more vicious.

Alex had always been attractive, even during those awkward years when we were both still figuring ourselves out, all sharp edges and restless energy. Back then, I told myself it was just admiration. Normal. Harmless.

But now...

Now there’s nothing boyish about him. There’s a calm brutality in the way he moves, a quiet strength that draws the eye before I can think to look away. My gaze lingers longer than it should on the cut of his jaw, the line of his throat, the way his shirt clings.

I shift, jaw tight, willing the heat under my skin to settle. It’s stupid. I don’t even know if he’s into?—

No. Doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter.

But I still can't stop looking.

And worse, I think he notices.

Shit.

I lean back against the wall, studying him. There's something different about him from what I remember. Back then, he was always hunched over a laptop, avoiding eye contact, speaking only when absolutely necessary. This Alex carries himself differently, like a weapon at rest.

“So my sister..." I begin, unsure how to phrase the question burning in my mind. “You've been what, her guardians?”

“It started that way. Your grandfather sold her to the highest bidder once he was done with her. We got her out.”

The implication hangs in the air between us. I feel my jaw tighten. “You bought my sister?”

“Yes?”

“Let me get this straight. My apparently long lost grandfather kidnapped my sister, and then sold her to you?” I seethe through gritted teeth. “Is that what you are telling me?”

“That about sums it up,” Alex shrugs. “Some details and context are missing, but pretty spot on to where we find ourselves now.”

“Details and context,” I echo, feeling my hands ball into fists. “I'd fucking love to hear those. You bought my fucking sister.”

“We saved her life. An alternative buyer would have used her as a broodmare to stake a claim to your family’s legacy. So yes, we bought her. And then we gave her back her freedom.”

“That's a convenient story.”

“It's the truth. You can ask her when you see her in a few days.”

“You mean when she kills Victor Petrov and his family?" The words taste bitter on my tongue.

“He deserves it,” Alex shrugs. “But, I think she’ll enjoy killing your cousin Bianca more, considering she is passing off Vesper’s son as her own.

I feel like I've been sucker-punched. "Vesper has a son?"