Thalia held Matt in her arms as the lights flickered on, the harsh brightness revealing the blood smeared across his shirt. Her hands trembled as she cradled his head, tears spilling freely down her face. "Matt… Matt, please," she whispered, her voice breaking. He didn't respond. His skin was pale, his breathing shallow, and the metallic scent of blood clung to the air.
Vicious stood a few feet away, his expression unreadable. With a flick of his hand, he signaled the guard. "Take him," he ordered flatly.
"No!" Thalia screamed, clinging to Matt tighter. One of the guards pried her away while another lifted Matt's limp body off the floor. She thrashed wildly, kicking and clawing. "Let me go! Don't touch him!"
They dragged Matt toward the exit, and a dark trail of blood followed him across the tiles. Thalia's sobs grew louder, raw and aching. Every time the guard tried to restrain her, she fought harder.
"Thalia," Vicious said coldly, stepping in front of her. She didn't hear him. She launched herself at him, fists flying at his chest, shoulders, even his legs. She beat at him with everything she had left.
"You are vicious!" she cried. "You are wicked! You have no heart! You're nothing but a monster!"
The guard tried to pull her back, but she kept swinging until her arms ached. Her voice cracked as she yelled, "You should've killed me too! You don't deserve to breathe the same air as anyone!"
Vicious gritted his teeth and grabbed her wrists, dragging her away from the hallway. She kicked at his shins, hitting his arm and trying to break free. He forced her toward the storeroom, ignoring the sting of her blows.
"I thought you just lost your husband," he muttered, his voice laced with anger and something else she couldn't name. "But here you are, throwing yourself at other men. Even kissing him. Who knows what else you've done? Maybe you even went to bed with him."
Thalia froze, disbelief flashing across her face before turning into fury. She tried to strike him again, but before her hand could land, her knees buckled. Her vision blurred. Her breaths came shallow. The room spun, and everything went silent.
She fainted in his grip.
For a second, Vicious just stared at her limp body, stunned. Then panic slammed into him. "Thalia?" he said sharply. He shook her shoulder once. No response. His heartbeat picked up speed. "Thalia!" He tapped her face gently, the anger gone from his voice. "Open your eyes. Come on."
Nothing.
He scooped her up quickly and carried her out of the storeroom, calling for the doctor. Even the guards exchanged surprised glances—they had never seen him like this.
Thalia blinked awake. Her eyes adjusted slowly to the familiar cream-colored walls and soft drapes of her bedroom. She was lying on the bed, her head resting on a pillow that smelled faintly of lavender.
She tried to sit up, but a hand pressed her back gently. "Don't move," Vicious said quietly.
She turned her face away from him instantly, refusing to meet his eyes. Disgust and exhaustion warred in her expression.
The doctor, who had been packing his bag at the foot of the bed, spoke calmly. "She needs rest. Exhaustion, stress, shock. She should avoid any sudden movements. I'll leave some medication downstairs."
"Thank you," Vicious said. The doctor nodded and left the room.
Silence lingered heavily.
After a long moment, Vicious spoke. "I was worried. You were out since yesterday. Honestly, it's a miracle you woke up . I thought you'd be unconscious for two days—"
"Don't call it a miracle," she snapped, finally looking at him with red, weary eyes. "You've already killed me. You killed everything in me. Maybe you should kill me too, so I don't have to keep breathing the same air as you."
Her voice trembled, but her glare burned.
"You know what?" she continued bitterly. "I'll get the money. Every last coin. I'll pay you back and leave this damned house—and you."
"You're not going anywhere," he said quietly, but firmly. "You stay until I say you can leave."
"You're not the boss of me!" she shot back. "One day, you're going to get paid back in your own coin. Every single thing you've done—you'll feel it."
He didn't argue. Instead, he just said, "Get some rest," and turned away slightly.
"No," she said sharply when she realized he was still sitting there. "Leave. Get out of my room."
"I'm not going anywhere," he replied. "I'm going to stay here. Whatever you need, I'll help with it. And for what happened earlier… dragging you like that… I shouldn't have. I didn't mean for it to go that way."
She scoffed. "Is that your idea of an apology? Seriously?"
She forced herself to stand despite the dizziness. "In a month and some days, I'll be out of your house. And out of your life."
"You're still under my terms," he said, watching her closely. "Whatever I decide—"
"It's not fair," she cut him off. "You're not even keeping your part of the deal!"
"Rules are rules," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "And sometimes they're meant to be broken."
She clenched her fists and lunged forward, grabbing his collar instead of striking him. "Just kill me already!" she shouted, pushing him weakly. The sudden movement made her lose her balance.
He caught her before she hit the ground, his hands steady on her arms. "Easy," he murmured, guiding her back to the bed. "I know you're angry at me, but at least be smart enough to get well first before starting your madness."
Thalia lay back, turning her face away again. Tears gathered in her lashes, but she blinked them back hard. Her chest rose and fell shakily.
Vicious watched her for a moment. She could feel his gaze but refused to look.
After a pause, his voice softened—almost hesitant. "Thalia," he said quietly. "I'm… sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm really sorry."
She slowly turned her head to him; eyes narrowed in surprise.
In her mind, one thought echoed sharply:
Did he just apologize?