“I look forward to it. I’m sure we’ll have a lot to discuss. Starting with those cash deposits into your wife’s account,” I whisper the last part.

That wipes anything resembling satisfaction off his face, and he gestures to the cops to take me away.

31

BASTIAN

“You’re a mess, Dandelion. Remind me not to fuck with you.”

Vittoria sits in the tub looking straight ahead as I scrub blood and dirt off her. I take each of her fingers and clean the gunk of Lucien’s eyes and skin out from under her broken nails. I drain the tub once, twice, three times and refill it and all the while she sits there staring straight at nothing, almost catatonic.

Someone brings a steaming mug of tea. I thank them and set it aside to cool a little while I wash her hair then put conditioner in it to comb it through, taking my time. I like doing it. She finally closes her eyes and lets her head drop back. I watch her face, soft and relaxed, and I think about all the shit she’s been through. The things that have been done to her. And I make a vow at that moment. I will not allow anyone to harm her again. I will never let anything happen to our Dandelion ever again.

I rinse the conditioner out of her hair, then crouch down beside the tub. “Vittoria, drink this.” She doesn’t stir. I bring the cup of tea to her lips. “Dandelion.”

She turns to me, finally looks at me with soft, yielding eyes. They’re so expressive, those eyes.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” She blinks, giving me the smallest smile. I brush a strand of wet hair back from her face. “Drink this.”

I hold it to her mouth, and she takes a sip, then another, then brings handfuls of water to her face and rubs her eyes. I watch her, wondering if she’s crying again. I don’t even think it’s conscious, that crying. Just years’ worth of locked up emotion.

“Come on. You’re going to get cold,” I say, unplugging the drain and getting an oversized towel to wrap her in. She stands, water falling off her too-thin body. The stress of it all, I imagine. She lets me wrap her in the towel, and when I lift her out of the tub, she puts her arms around my neck and watches me in that way she has as I carry her into the bedroom. It’s a little unsettling, I admit, but this is her. This is Dandelion. A little weird. Damaged. But ours.

Ours.

At that, my mind wanders to Amadeo. I don’t know where they’ve taken him.