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The promise in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. This is a side of Alex I've never seen before—commanding, certain, almost carnal. It's intoxicating.

“And how will you know when that time comes?” I challenge, refusing to back down despite the way my heart hammers against my ribs.

Because you’ll tell me.”

His finger trails along my jawline, barely a whisper of contact, but it sends a pulse of heat straight through me.

“I want to hear you say it,” he murmurs, voice low and intimate. “When your mind is clear. When there’s nothing left but the truth.”

I swallow hard and give a small nod.

He steps back, creating the space we both need, but his gaze stays locked on me. The tension between us crackles like a live wire, sharp and electric.

“We should finish this,” he says, gesturing to the computer screen. “If you're up for it.”

I take a steadying breath and return to the chair. “I need to see it all.”

Alex sits beside me again, careful not to touch me as I continue through the remaining photos. The last images show me being moved, presumably in preparation for the exchange that never happened thanks to the guy’s intervention.

When the final photo fades from the screen, I lean back, emotionally drained but somehow lighter. Knowledge is power, and now I know exactly what I'm fighting against.

“Thank you,” I say quietly, turning to Alex. “For showing me. For staying.”

He nods, his expression unreadable. “Are you okay?”

“No,” I answer honestly. “But I will be.”

The pictures of me strapped to that table make my skin crawl even after Alex closes the files on his computer. I feel dirty,exposed, like I need to scrub my soul with bleach and steel wool. Seeing myself like that, seeing what I experienced in that fucking torture chamber for two years like someone observing a caged animal at the zoo will haunt me. The only consolation prize is if they stir something from the dark recesses of my mind. The images flash behind my eyelids every time I blink—me unconscious, vulnerable, being prepped like a lamb for slaughter.

“I’ll keep looking, Vesper. I haven’t even scratched the surface of my capabilities yet. This won’t have been for nothing.”

God, I hope he’s right.

VESPER

A loud crashcomes from the living room, followed by arguing. “We might want to head back out there,” Alex suggests as he shifts from his spot next to me. “I’m pretty sure Zaire is about a minute away from kicking down my door, and you’re the only person who can diffuse that powder keg.”

Another crash, this one followed by a string of Russian curses I recognize all too well.

“Z does sound pissed,” I mutter, forcing myself to move toward the door.

“Can you blame him?” Alex smirks. “You didn’t kick me out when you looked at the photos.”

I shoot him a glare. “I asked you to stay.”

“Tell that to your Russian bodyguard out there. Both of them. My conversational Russian is a bit rusty, but I’m almost positive he mentioned something about my dick, and a knife.”

“Have they always been like that?”

“As long as I’ve known them," he shrugs. “But they’re worse now. I think we both know what the common denominator is in that volatile equation.”

“Me.”

I sigh before following Alex through his bedroom door and back out into the hallway.

The others are waiting in the living room, tension thick enough to choke on permeating the air. Zaire's eyes lock onto mine immediately, something primal flickering in those silver depths. Before I can choose my own seat, he reaches out, pulling me onto his lap, like I'm his personal property. His arms wrap around my waist, holding me firmly against his chest.

“Really?”