This is it. I’ll see Dario. We’ll breathe the same air in the same space.

Do I even know who I’ll be trapped in a jail cell with?

I do. It’s my husband. Finally.

Deep breath.

I push open the door and step in.

It slaps shut behind me.

Having seen him through glass, I expect him to look the same—like a caged animal. I expect to feel fear from him and for him. So many expectations, all exceeded by his naked torso, beaten but flexing, tightened with ever-expanding strength, loosened for the next battle.

My first thought is that he’s too big for the cell. Not that the room is too small, because the meat around any skeleton of any man would fit inside it. He’s too expansive for not just this cage, but a cathedral. His energy presses against the concrete walls and domes the glass into a convex bulb. The sky couldn’t hold him.

Neither can I. With just his voice, he is in my body—a rattling core from the hollow of my throat, through my heart, to the floor of my pelvis.

It’s physically impossible for him to be contained in here, yet here he is.

We stare at each other for a precious minute before he speaks.

“You found her.” He’s trying to read me, but I’ve had my emotions buried for so long, I don’t even know what I feel anymore.

“Why?” My voice creaks. “Why did you let me think she was alive?”

He scoffs. Shakes his head slowly. Takes a single step closer. I’m drawn to him by a gravity I can’t explain, moving to the side as if I need to orbit him like a planet.

“Turn around.”

We circle each other, getting closer with each step.

“Tell me,” I insist.

“I told you to turn around.”

Before I can ask again, he takes me by the shoulders and spins me to face the empty hallway behind the window.

“Why, Dario?”

“Put your hands on the glass.”

I ball my hands into fists and make my arms rigid. “First—”

The rest of the sentence leaves me as he pushes me forward. I have to use the glass to steady myself.

“You come in here asking questions while they watch.” He reaches around to my breasts, squeezing them through the fabric. “Show them what a faithful Colonia servant you are.” He pushes his erection against me, grabbing between my legs, through the fabric, stimulating me with hooked fingers.

“Tell me.” I jab my elbow back and start to turn to face him, but he holds me.

“You’re going to try to fight me so they don’t know how bad you want it. But you’re going to lose.”