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Chapter Thirty-Two

D amian

The safe house reminds me of the hidden rooms beneath the Colosseum where injured gladiators sometimes hid from their masters—low ceilings, the musty scent of earth, and secrets pressed into every shadow. Maya’s friend Kane, a scarred giant who moves with a fighter’s grace despite his limp, leads us through the concealed entrance behind his auto repair shop.

“Two days. Max,” he says, his voice rough as arena sand. “Any longer draws attention.” His eyes linger on me with professional assessment. “Nice build. Bit too perfect, though. Guy like that stands out.”

Maya slips her fingers into mine in the dim light. “We just need rest and transportation, then we’re gone.”

Kane grunts, gesturing toward a narrow hallway. “Bedroom’s through there. Bathroom’s got medical supplies if you need ‘em. TV picks up basic channels.”

“I can’t pay you. The cash I had stashed will barely pay for food and gas. But I’m good for it, Kane. I’ll get it to you.”

“That’s not the first time I’ve heard something like that.” He shrugs, not voicing the end of his sentence, which I suspect goes something like, “And those promises are seldom fulfilled.”

The space feels both foreign and familiar—like the gladiator barracks but filled with strange machines. A “microwave” like the one in Maya’s apartment. A small “television” that shows moving pictures. Even the bed is too soft, too perfect compared to the straw pallets I knew.

“Get cleaned up if you want,” Maya says softly after Kane leaves. “I’ll check the news.”

The modern bathroom still confuses me, but I’ve learned to appreciate its efficiency. Hot water flows at the turn of a handle—a luxury even wealthy Romans would envy. As I wash away desert dust and memories of the meat processing plant, I hear Maya’s sharp intake of breath from the other room.

“Damian!” The rest of her words I don’t understand, but her tone is clear. This is urgent.

After wrapping a towel around my waist, I insert the translator into my ear and emerge to find her staring at her cell phone. She holds it up to me with what must be her latest text.

“Here’s the last message that came through. ‘Varro says to trust no one. These people have infiltrated local law enforcement, hospitals, even some government agencies. They’ll never stop hunting him. The potential value of his preserved DNA is too high’. They’ve tried to breach the gladiator compound twice, but now their efforts are focused on… you.”

The warning strikes me with renewed force, like a gladiator’s unexpected blow. I’ve known about these pharmaceutical hunters since the warehouse, seen their hungry eyes at the fight, but Laura’s message sharpens the threat into something immediate and vast. Not just Tony and his underground fights, but an organized network of powerful people with seemingly limitless resources—all fixated on capturing me, studying me, reducing me to a specimen for their research.

The abstract danger we’ve discussed for days suddenly materializes into something more concrete and inescapable. Even the undefeated Thracian I once faced in the arena feels like a simpler threat than this invisible web closing around us.

Maya sends Laura our current location then deletes the messages and powers down the phone. Her gaze meets mine, fierce with protective fury. “We need a better plan. Somewhere they’d never think to look while we plan our next steps. We can’t stay here. Kane has been generous enough.”

Moving behind her, I wrap my arms around her trembling form. “First, we rest. Gather strength. Then forge our path.”

She leans back against my chest, her warmth anchoring me to this moment, this place, this woman who risks everything to shield me from those who would use me.

“I won’t let them have you,” she says. “Not Tony, not these companies with their private armies. No one .”

Her words carry the weight of a gladiator’s oath—deeper than any formal vow, because it springs from choice rather than compulsion. Drawing her closer, I let my lips brush her temple.

“We fight as one,” I murmur. “Two blades, one purpose.”

She sighs, leaning against me as though it’s only in my arms that she allows herself to relax.

“Rest,” I tell her as exhaustion finally claims her. “I will keep watch.”

But she tugs me down beside her on the too-soft bed. “We’ll guard each other’s sleep.”

Part of me wants to bury myself in her warm body, give her pleasure, and take some of my own. But we’re both fatigued and need our rest. I tuck her close and press kisses to her hair as my hand possessively spans her waist. This is my woman. I will do what it takes to protect her.

As she drifts off in my arms, I realize how far we’ve come from those first days of pretense and lies. Now truth flows between us like a river finding its natural course. Our enemies are legion—Tony’s thugs, corporate mercenaries, corrupted officials. But they hunt a slave, a specimen, a prize to be claimed.

Let them search. What they’ll find is something else entirely—two warriors bound by choice and trust, protecting each other with the fierce devotion that once made gladiators brothers beyond blood.