Alberto

You don't remember how many steps you took before your knees gave way. Somewhere behind you, you can still hear screams - they're looking for you. The dirty basement where they kept you all these months is behind you, but you can still taste blood on your lips and hear the creaking of chains. Your body is shaking, your eyes are darkening...

And suddenly - strong hands grab you, not letting you fall. The smell of expensive perfume mixed with cigar smoke. You slowly raise your eyes...

And you see him.

His face, which used to make you tremble, now seems like salvation. But in his eyes, there is not the usual cold fury, but... shock?

• Darling... - his voice, always so confident, now trembled. He runs his finger over your emaciated face, removing dirt. His gaze slides over the bruises, the marks of the ropes on your wrists... And suddenly - his eyes darken.

• Who. Not a question. An order.

You open your mouth, but only a wheeze comes out of your chest. He doesn't wait for an answer - with a sharp movement he tears off his cloak and wraps you in it, pressing you to his chest.

• It's over, angelo mio. You're home.

Somewhere in the distance, the footsteps of his men are heard. He turns to them, and his voice is now a blade, ready to kill:

— Find them. All of them. Leave only one alive — the one who will tell us who organized this.

And then he looks at you again, and there's no longer shock or anger in his eyes, but something far more dangerous. Something that makes him hold your bloody body tighter to him.

• They will pay. With every drop of blood. With every cry.

He picks you up in his arms like a jewel and whispers goodbye:

• And then... then we'll talk about why you didn't shout my name. After all, they knew... they knew whose you were.