Lili grunted as her fingers curled into fists, her body trembling with the effort to push herself up. Every movement felt like it was pulling her apart, the pain a relentless wave crashing against her resolve. She had fought so hard to stand tall, to prove that she was more than just a pawn in Fosin’s and his father’s game. But now, her limbs refused to cooperate, betraying her every attempt to regain control. She cursed under her breath—not only for what Fosin had done, but for the crushing weight of her failure.
She had built a reputation, crafted an image of someone to be feared, someone untouchable. It had been a defense, a shield against the very punishment she knew Fosin enjoyed delivering. But now, in this broken moment, she could see it all crumbling. She had hoped to be more than just a tool to him, but the truth was undeniable—she was nothing more than that. His threats, his cold, calculated cruelty… it was all designed to remind her of her place. And she had fallen back into it, just like everyone else who had dared to challenge him…
With a desperate grunt, Lili dragged herself towards the stairs. Her vision blurred, tears threatening to spill from her furious, red-rimmed eyes. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her break. No, she still had one last fight in her. She would prove to them, to Fosin, to everyone who had ever doubted her, that she was still the same. She would hunt down those responsible for her failure. She would—
The thought evaporated in an instant as a wave of dizziness overtook her. The world tilted, and her knees buckled beneath her. She barely had time to gasp before her body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud. The sound that left her lips was more than just pain—it was the hollow echo of defeat.
Her body refused to move, her skin cold against the unforgiving floor. The moment she collapsed, all the anger, all the bitterness, seemed to bleed away into the quiet darkness closing in around her. She wanted nothing more than to rest.
Lili closed her eyes, her breath shallow as she struggled to regain some semblance of composure. The stairs were so close, her room just beyond, but it felt as though she were miles away from any sense of relief.
Her vision swam in and out of focus, the blurry outlines of the room around her slowly becoming sharper as she struggled to regain some control. She had always known that this was the path she’d walk—nothing but endless suffering, no way out but forward. She had never truly had a choice. From the very beginning, it had been carved into her. The moment Fosin had set his eyes on her, she had become a thing—something to be used, manipulated, broken, and rebuilt in his image. She had learned to survive, to swallow her pain and keep moving, because there was no other way. Every step she had taken in her life, every battle, every moment of misery, had been nothing but a crawl toward some form of release that never came. There was no escaping the truth now: this was all there was. Her entire existence had been a series of half-buried promises, hopes that died the moment she took her first breath.
Her breath hitched, a sob that she stifled with clenched teeth. No one cared about her suffering—not Fosin, not anyone. She was an instrument, a tool designed for a singular purpose. The only thing that kept her from completely crumbling was the raw, jagged will to keep going. Because what else was there?
Lili forced her hand to the floor, the movement shaky and painful. She dragged herself up, her fingers gripping the edges of the stairs with desperation. Each shift, each inch of progress, felt like a battle she was doomed to lose, but she had no other option. She didn’t deserve a break, a rest. She didn’t deserve a moment of respite from this misery…
The stairs were still so far away. Her limbs screamed in protest, but she ignored them, pushing herself, each inch an agonizing reminder of how little she truly mattered. Crawling had become second nature to her, and it had started long before this moment. She had crawled through every moment of her life, every terrible choice, every sacrifice she had been forced to make. She had never been allowed to walk freely, to stand tall without some invisible weight on her shoulders. She had crawled through her childhood, through the twisted games Fosin had played with her mind. She had crawled through the years of pain, of humiliation. And now, she crawled through the agony of failure—the crushing realization that she would never be free of this life.
The tears that had once threatened to spill now fell freely, streaking down her face as her body trembled with exhaustion. She didn’t have the strength to stand, to rise above this anymore. All she could do was drag herself up those damn stairs, just as she had dragged herself through every awful moment before.
One step forward, one pull of her battered body after another. The pain in her arms, her chest, her back, her very soul, was all she had now. The sharp ache in her limbs became a dull throb, a reminder that even this crawl was a form of defiance—against the life that had tried to crush her, against the man who had never seen her as anything more than a shadow of his own power. She crawled, not because she wanted to, but because it was the only thing left she could do. To ease the suffering of a life that had never been her own, to keep moving in the face of an ever-looming darkness. She would crawl her way to the top, the same way she had crawled through everything else. Because in the end, it was the only thing that would keep her alive. At least, she thought so—until everything around her blackened once more…
The void consumed her, and for a moment, there was nothing but the overwhelming emptiness. Time lost all meaning. Her body felt like it had been erased from existence, suspended in a dark and painful limbo. But ever so slowly, the world began to return. The warmth of the sun seeped through the living room windows, its golden rays gently caressing her battered skin. The heat was a reminder that she was still alive, but the warmth only deepened the ache in her bones, a cruel contrast to the hollowness inside her.
Then, the ringing. It cut through the fog of her consciousness, sharp and insistent. Her phone, tucked somewhere deep in her pocket, buzzed with a call—three times, and each time, she struggled to reach it. Her hands trembled with effort, her body heavy and unresponsive. The ringing felt like an eternity, the phone almost mocking her weakness. But finally, on the fourth try, her fingers found the device and she answered.
“Yes?” she rasped, the word barely leaving her lips. She bit her lower lip, wincing at how pathetic she sounded. She hated this—hated the weakness in her tone, the frailty of it. But there was no hiding it. The toll of the night, the strain on her body, was too much to bear.
“Oh. And just yesterday, before we said our goodbyes, you told me you hate people being late. Unfortunately, darling, it seems you’re the one who’s late,” came the teasing voice on the other end. Goran. His tone was light, almost playful, as if he were enjoying the game of poking at her. “Had too much to drink, did you?”
Lili’s breath hitched as she tried to push herself up again, the sharp pain in her chest making her gasp. Her body screamed in protest, and she clutched at the floor, struggling to steady herself. Her head spun, the world tilting in a dizzying blur.
“I’m not… I’m not drunk…” she managed to say through gritted teeth, each word a battle against the agony gnawing at her. Her mind felt hazy, but her resolve was still there, buried beneath the pain. She could still function, still fight. She just needed to keep going.
Goran’s teasing tone dropped as soon as he heard the strain in her voice. The usual playful edge was gone, replaced by a quiet seriousness that seemed to ripple through the air, even through the phone line. He frowned as he listened to her breathless, shaky words, the pain in her voice cutting deeper than he’d expected.
For a moment, he didn’t respond. His hand hovered over the phone, a flicker of uncertainty in his usual steely composure. It was strange. She sounded so… vulnerable. So fragile.
“You’re not drunk?” Goran repeated, but his voice was softer, quieter now, almost hesitant. “Lili…” He let the silence hang for a moment, his mind processing her words. “I’m not buying it. But I know you’re not the kind to ask for help. Still… You’ve gotta slow down.”
He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself before speaking again, his words laced with an edge of concern. “Look, I know you’re strong. But you’ve been pushing yourself too hard. I can’t… I can’t just let you fall apart on me, alright? We need you to be at your best. Torin—he doesn’t need to know. I’ll keep this between us.”
Goran hesitated, feeling his usual cold demeanor crack slightly as he fought the urge to offer more comfort. “Lili,” he started, keeping his voice steady despite the unease creeping in. “Tell me what’s going on. What did—”
“Goran… you don’t understand… Fosin…” Lili’s voice was barely more than a whisper, raw and broken. She tried to say more, to force the words past the weight pressing down on her chest, but nothing came. Her throat tightened, her body trembling from the effort of just keeping herself upright.
Goran’s fingers curled tighter around his phone, his jaw locking. The way Lili said it, the way her voice fractured at the mere mention of Fosin, sent a slow, burning anger curling through him.
“Lili,” he said, quieter this time, but there was an edge to it now. He was trying not to push, but his patience was running thin. “What did he do?”
She swallowed hard, the memory of Fosin’s hands, his voice, the sheer helplessness suffocating her all over again. Every time she clawed her way up, every time she thought she was proving herself, he reminded her how easy it was to take it all away. To remind her what she was—a pawn. A tool. Something to be disciplined and controlled.
“I can’t,” she muttered, barely aware she had spoken at all. “I just… I have to get up. I have to go.”
Goran exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to curse under his breath. He knew pushing her too hard would only make her shut down more. He had seen her fight, watched her take down enemies without hesitation, her sharp tongue always armed with something smug or vicious. But now? She sounded defeated. And that scared him more than he cared to admit.
“Lili,” he said again, softer now, careful. “You don’t have to tell me. But you’re not fooling me either. You need to stop for a second before you pass out.”
She let out a bitter, humorless laugh, a painful sound that barely even resembled amusement. “Stopping isn’t an option,” she murmured.
Goran heard how her breathing hitched, how she clenched the phone tighter, how she was desperately trying to hold on.
“Lili,” he tried again, and for once, the usual sharpness in his voice was gone. “Just tell me where you are.”
She didn’t answer. But she didn’t hang up either.
“Lili!” Goran repeated, his voice sharper this time, laced with frustration and something dangerously close to concern. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll ask Nick for the address.”
Lili clenched her jaw, fingers trembling around the phone. She hated how weak she sounded, how her body refused to obey her. But more than anything, she hated the idea of Goran showing up here, seeing her like this. Seeing just how badly she had failed.
“I don’t need your help,” she muttered, barely managing to form the words.
Goran didn’t respond right away, but she could hear his slow, steady breathing on the other end. “You sure about that?” His voice had dropped lower, and there was something unreadable in it.
Lili squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth. She didn’t owe him an explanation. She didn’t owe anyone an explanation. She just had to—
She pushed herself up again, forcing her weight onto her arms, her legs, anything that could hold her up. But the moment she tried to stand, the pain surged through her like fire, a cruel, agonizing force that swallowed her whole. A sharp gasp tore from her throat as her vision swam, her body betraying her once again.
Then—darkness. A void swallowing her whole, dragging her under.
Lili only woke up after feeling hands on her body, firm but careful. Panic flared instantly, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to move, to fight—
“Easy.” The voice was familiar.
She forced her eyes open, blinking against the light streaming through the windows. Confusion gripped her first, then recognition as her blurred vision cleared. Goran was crouched beside her, his sharp gaze scanning her face, his hands still supporting her.
Her body tensed beneath his touch. “What the—”
“You passed out,” he said flatly, but there was a hint of something else in his tone—something that didn’t quite match his usual indifference.
Lili swallowed hard, looking away. “How did you—” Lili started, her voice raw and barely audible.
“Doors were unlocked.” Goran cut in, his tone neutral, but there was something tight about the way he said it. Like he had expected the question. Like he had braced himself for whatever he was about to find.
Lili blinked up at him, her vision hazy, her body too weak to fully register his presence. The sunlight streaming in through the window made his silhouette glow at the edges, but it did nothing to warm the ice spreading through her veins. She wanted to sit up, to at least give herself the illusion of control, but the moment she tried, a sharp, punishing pain ripped through her ribs, stealing her breath.
Goran eyes narrowed as he took in the bruises, the way her fingers trembled as she clenched them into fists. His expression darkened, but his voice was steadier than she expected when he finally spoke.
“What the hell happened?” There was an edge to his words, a demand she wasn’t sure she had the strength to answer. “You mentioned Fosin. Was this his doing?”
Lili swallowed, but even that felt like too much effort. She let out a slow, uneven breath, trying to gather herself, to put on that same indifference she always wore like armor. But the weight of everything crushed against her chest, and when she finally spoke, her voice cracked beneath it.
“He… punished me for the failure,” she admitted, the words feeling like shattered glass against her throat. She exhaled shakily, fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt as if grounding herself would make it easier to say. “Because we went to the bar instead of—”
She stopped. The shame burned too hot, too deep.
Goran’s body went rigid. The air in the room shifted, thickening with something dark, something she wasn’t sure she had ever heard from him before.
“What!?” His voice rose, anger flaring like a spark catching fire. “But we haven’t even failed yet!”
Lili let out a hollow, bitter laugh, but it died almost immediately. She turned her head away, unwilling to meet his gaze. If she did, she might break apart completely.
“I did,” she whispered, her voice barely more than breath. The confession hung in the air, heavy, suffocating. “Why do you think… you were assigned to work with me?”
She could feel the shift in him, the realization settling like a weight in the space between them.
Lili let her head drop back against the floor, her body giving out before her mind was ready to surrender. “It wasn’t just a coincidence,” she murmured. “Torin didn’t assign you to me just because. Fosin made sure of it. He wanted to remind me that I wasn’t enough… That I needed someone watching over my shoulder. That no matter how hard I tried, I would never be enough.”
Her vision blurred again, but this time it wasn’t from pain.
Lili barely registered the sensation of being lifted, her body too weak to protest. A sharp sting of pain flared through her ribs, but she was too exhausted to react. The warmth of another body pressed against her as strong arms secured her in place, holding her as if she weighed nothing.
Goran moved stepping carefully up the stairs, his grip firm yet gentle. Through the haze clouding her vision, she realized something—he never looked away. His eyes stayed locked on hers, unwavering, as if he knew. As if he understood that the one thing she hated more than pain was feeling weak.
A lump formed in her throat, shame burning through her like acid. She wanted to push him away, to claw her way out of this moment, to deny the pathetic state she had been reduced to. But her body betrayed her. She couldn’t even muster the strength to lift a hand, let alone fight.
By the time Goran reached her room, her body was nothing but dead weight in his arms. He didn’t hesitate. He lowered her onto the bed carefully, as if he feared she might break apart completely if he handled her the wrong way. The moment her head hit the pillow, a shiver ran through her, and without a word, he grabbed the blanket, draping it over her
Lili stared at the ceiling, her breath shallow, her fingers gripping the fabric of the blanket as if it could hold her together. Her body was failing her, but that wasn’t what terrified her most. It was the realization that no matter how much she fought, no matter how many times she clawed her way back from the edge—there would come a day when she wouldn’t be able to. And Fosin would be the one to make sure of it.
She let out a slow, shuddering breath. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight of her words filled the space between them. “This time… Fosin will… kill me…”
Goran didn’t answer right away. But she felt it—the way the air shifted, the way his presence darkened. And then, finally, his voice cut through the stillness, low and edged with something she couldn’t quite name. “Not if I get to him first.”
Goran held her gaze, there was something simmering beneath the surface—something sharp, something dangerous.
Lili’s breath hitched. She wanted to believe it was just exhaustion clouding her judgment, that she was misreading the sudden shift in his demeanor. But no—there was something different. A tension in his jaw, a flicker in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“What is that supposed… to mean?” she asked, her voice hoarse, but laced with warning.
Goran didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face as if collecting his thoughts. His usual teasing, indifferent mask had cracked, revealing something raw beneath.
“Careful, Goran…” she murmured, forcing herself to breathe through the pain, to focus. “You never know… who listens.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “I know exactly who’s listening,” he said, his tone quieter now, but no less intense. “That’s why I’m still standing here.”
Lili felt her pulse spike. Something was wrong. Goran wasn’t just worried about her—he was calculating. Every word, every reaction. And yet… there was something undeniably real about the way he looked at her now. She wanted to ask, to push, to demand what the hell he was hiding. But she was too tired. Too broken to untangle whatever storm was brewing behind his eyes.
So instead, she did the only thing she could. She closed her eyes, whispering a final warning before the exhaustion finally pulled her under. “Then be smart… and don’t get yourself killed.”
She didn’t see his reaction. But she swore, just before the darkness swallowed her whole, she heard him mutter—
“I should be telling you that.”
When Lili woke again, the first thing she noticed was the absence of mind-numbing agony. The pain was still there, buried beneath the surface, a dull, throbbing ache that pulsed through her ribs and curled around her spine, but it was manageable—nothing like the raw, unbearable torment that had dragged her into unconsciousness before.
The second thing she noticed was the scent. Warm, rich, unmistakable. The kind of scent that wrapped around a person and lured them toward the kitchen, the kind that reminded her of something distant, something almost safe. For a fleeting second, she thought she was dreaming again, trapped in some cruel illusion of comfort before reality would tear it away. But when she shifted, the sharp sting beneath her skin reminded her that this was no dream.
She exhaled slowly, pushing herself upright, careful not to move too fast. The ache flared, but it didn’t knock her back down. Her fingers ghosted over her side, tracing the deepest bruises, feeling the uneven rise and fall of her own breath against injured ribs. Her back felt even worse—a tapestry of fresh wounds, each one a silent story of endurance, of suffering she had long since learned to swallow.
She forced herself to stand. Her legs held her weight, though not without protest.
The shower was a slow process, every movement a test of how much her body could take. The water was scalding, but it did little to ease the deep-seated pain curling beneath her skin. Each pass of her fingers over broken flesh sent jolts of discomfort through her nerves, a bitter reminder of how easily Fosin had torn through her defenses, how easily he had reduced her to this. Her body was a battlefield, and yet, somehow, she was still standing.
When she finished, she dressed carefully, each layer of clothing a fragile shield against the vulnerability creeping up her spine. But the moment she stepped out of the bathroom, the scent from downstairs hit her again—stronger now, undeniably real. She hesitated. It didn’t make sense. No one cooked here. Not for her. Not ever.
Frowning, she made her way downstairs, moving slowly, cautiously, her bare feet near-silent against the floor. The closer she got to the kitchen, the more her stomach twisted, anticipation and unease curling together into something tight and unfamiliar.
And then she saw him. Goran. Standing in the kitchen. Cooking.
For several seconds, Lili simply stood there, gripping the banister as if reality might shift beneath her feet at any moment. The image before her felt wrong in a way she couldn’t quite articulate. Goran, sleeves rolled up, moving around the kitchen with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before. Like this was normal. Like he was normal. Like any of this could ever be normal.
Her mouth parted slightly, but no words came.
He didn’t look at her immediately, too focused on whatever he was doing. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, casual—completely at odds with the storm raging inside her. “You’re awake,” he noted, barely sparing her a glance as he continued whatever it was he was preparing.
Lili’s fingers tightened around the wooden railing.
She struggled to find the words, to make sense of what she was seeing, of why she was seeing it. Finally, she forced out, “What the hell am I looking at?”
Goran, entirely unfazed, turned his head just enough to meet her eyes. “You’re looking at breakfast. Or lunch. Or whatever time it is now.” He gestured toward the plate he was putting together. “Figured you’d need something in your system before you go dropping dead again.”
Lili blinked. She could have handled walking into another fight. She could have handled waking up to another threat, another punishment, another reminder of what her life had become. But this—this quiet, unspoken act of something dangerously close to kindness—made her chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with the pain.
“You cooked?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would shatter the fragile moment.
“Yeah,” he replied simply, his attention already shifting back to the food.
A pause.
She swallowed. “I didn’t think you could.”
Goran smirked, though there was something restrained in the expression, something she couldn’t quite decipher. “And I didn’t think you could lay on the floor for hours, but here we are. Full of surprises today.”
She exhaled sharply, almost a laugh, almost something real. But the tension in her chest didn’t ease.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she said after a moment, watching him closely, searching for an answer she wasn’t sure she wanted.
Goran’s hands stilled for a fraction of a second before he continued. “Yeah, well…” He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “I don’t feel like dragging a corpse around today.”
Lili swallowed hard. Something about him—about this—felt different. And that terrified her more than anything.
Lili stared at him, trying to piece together the quiet storm swirling in the kitchen, in her mind. Every part of her wanted to push back, to reject this moment, to remind herself that nothing good came from this—not from Goran, not from anyone. It felt wrong. It felt like a trap, and yet there was a small, fragile part of her that wanted to believe otherwise.
She shook her head slightly, her thoughts as jumbled as the knot tightening in her stomach.
“I don’t know why you’re acting like this now.” Her eyes narrowed, trying to read him, to uncover the hidden motive beneath his calm, collected facade.
Goran didn’t answer immediately, though she could see a flicker of something behind his eyes. Regret? Maybe. Caution? Definitely. But he quickly masked it with his usual indifference.
“I’m not acting any differently,” he said flatly, still focused on the task at hand. But there was an edge to his voice now—a subtle crack in his tone. “And this,” he motioned toward the food, “is just… practicality. You’re not the only one who’s got shit to deal with. But you can’t keep running on empty. It’ll be a waste if you drop dead on me before we finish the mission.”
Lili’s chest tightened at his words, an unexpected rush of emotions flooding her senses. The bluntness, the lack of emotion—it was easier to deal with than this. Easier to maintain the cold distance she’d wrapped herself in for so long. But something about the way he said it, the care—even in the harshness—had her staring at him, unsure of how to respond. Was this pity? Was this concern?
She crossed her arms over her chest, shifting uneasily, not meeting his gaze as she tried to steady herself.
“Why do you care?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it held a weight of its own. The question had been gnawing at her for so long, and now, with the bizarre tenderness hanging in the air, it slipped free, unbidden.
Goran paused, the knife in his hand stilling for just a second. He didn’t look up at her. But his jaw tightened as if he was wrestling with something inside himself.
“I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice low, almost inaudible. Then he cleared his throat, as if trying to shake off the moment. “I guess… I don’t want to see anyone else dragged down by this mess. Not when there’s still a chance.”
Lili felt the air in the room shift, thickening, growing heavy with words unsaid. There was something in the way he spoke, something raw and unfiltered. It was a crack in the armor, an unfamiliar vulnerability.
For a heartbeat, the tension was unbearable. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to walk away from it, or if she wanted to tear through the veil of silence between them and demand the truth—demand to know what this was, what he wanted, why he was showing her this side of himself. But she didn’t.
Instead, she took a shaky breath and nodded, unable to voice the confusion and tangled emotions that were rapidly swirling inside her.
“If I die,” she said, her words hollow, “you won’t have to deal with me anymore. I guess that’s a win for you, huh?”
The words were bitter, sharp on her tongue. She didn’t know why she said them. Maybe it was because she had nothing left to give, maybe because she had no answers, no sense of purpose beyond survival. But as soon as they left her mouth, she regretted it.
Goran’s gaze finally lifted to meet hers. His eyes weren’t cold or calculating. They were… tired. Tired, and perhaps even more human than she had expected.
“You’re wrong,” he said quietly, his voice steady, but his expression carrying something deeper, something she wasn’t sure she was ready to confront. “I’m not looking for a way out.”
Lili held his gaze, and for a moment, the room seemed to stretch between them, silent, charged. Everything that had happened, everything she had tried to forget, all of it hung in the air like a weight, pressing them both down.
“You should be.” She managed, the bitterness coating her words. “Because I’m not worth your time.”
There was a long, uncomfortable pause as Goran stared at her, his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he set the plate down on the counter, his eyes still locked on hers.
“I disagree,” he said simply. “But that’s not something I can explain to you right now.”
Lili’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat as her pulse quickened. A sharp sting of anger flared inside her, and her eyes narrowed, focusing on Goran as if trying to unravel the meaning behind his words. She wasn’t sure if it was the growing tension between them, or the vulnerability she was unwilling to face, but something about his quiet statement unsettled her more than it should have.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her voice came out harsher than she intended, each word coated with a cold edge that belied the storm brewing inside her. She took a step forward, her hands clenched at her sides.
“Careful, Goran,” she warned, her gaze sharp, and her tone warning. “Some words can be twisted in the wrong way. And you know where my loyalties lay.” She met his eyes, her chest tightening with a mix of irritation and fear. The heat of her words felt like a release, but it only left her feeling exposed, the rawness of the emotion seeping through her.
She didn’t know why she was reacting like this. Maybe it was because of the unspoken tension between them, the space between the person she’d always been and the cracks in the armor she was trying so hard to keep intact. She had spent so long hiding behind a mask of indifference that the sudden slip—Goran’s unexpected words, the way he was looking at her—made her feel too much. Too vulnerable. Too unsure.
Goran’s expression remained neutral for a moment, but she could see a flicker of something—a spark of understanding, perhaps, or maybe something deeper, something more personal that he wasn’t ready to voice. He didn’t flinch at her words, didn’t seem taken aback by her anger. Instead, he simply stood there, watching her, as if weighing his next move carefully.
“I know exactly where your loyalties lie, Lili,” he said, his voice low but steady, the edge of his words still there, though it seemed to be tempered now with something else—something almost like acknowledgment. “And I also know that you’re not as detached as you want everyone to believe. You’ve been through hell, but that doesn’t mean you can shut everything out.” He paused, as if thinking better of pushing further.
For a moment, the silence between them stretched out, thick with the weight of unspoken truths. Lili could feel her breath coming faster, the words trapped behind her teeth, her defenses fighting against the words she wanted to throw at him. She wanted to tell him to stop. To remind him that she wasn’t someone who needed saving. But something about the way he said it, the way he saw her, made it harder to reject. It felt like a truth she wasn’t ready to hear, but perhaps one she could no longer deny…
***
Lili pulled the car to a stop in front of the beauty salon they had visited before. The neon sign above the entrance flickered slightly, casting a soft glow over the quiet street.
Goran shifted in his seat, eyeing the building with open skepticism. “I still can’t believe you trust Dotina,” he muttered. “I’m pretty sure we barely made it out last time because of her.”
Lili shot him a sharp look, her patience wearing thin. “I’ve worked with her long enough to know I can trust her,” she said, her tone clipped.
Goran scoffed. “Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that’s true. But showing up to her like this?” He gestured toward her face, his eyes dark with concern. “It won’t help your image, Lili. You already know how people like her work—weakness is an opportunity, not a reason for sympathy.”
Lili’s jaw tightened. “You know what?” she snapped, reaching for the door handle. “Do us both a favor and stay in the damn car.”
Before Goran could respond, she shoved the door open and stepped out, slamming it shut behind her with enough force to rattle the frame. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he watched her storm toward the salon.
“Yeah. Sure. That’ll go well,” he muttered under his breath, but he stayed where he was, watching her disappear inside.
Dotina’s office was dimly lit, the scent of expensive perfume and faint traces of cigarette smoke lingering in the air. She was seated behind her glass desk, manicured fingers drumming idly against its surface. But the moment Lili stepped inside, Dotina’s expression shifted from mild curiosity to something sharper—surprise, then intrigue.
“You really don’t like that mask, do you?” Dotina mused, arching a brow. “Twice in two days. I should feel special.”
Lili ignored the comment, closing the door behind her. She knew Dotina well enough to expect this reaction—but what she hadn’t anticipated was the flicker of something else in the woman’s eyes when she took in Lili’s bruised face. Concern? No. Dotina wasn’t sentimental. But she was perceptive, and Lili knew she was already calculating what this meant.
Lili smirked, though the motion pulled at the split in her lip. “You look surprised.”
“I am.” Dotina leaned back in her chair, scrutinizing her. “Not just because you’re walking in here looking like someone’s punching bag—but because you still came at all. Though, I suppose, you always finish the job.”
Lili crossed her arms, ignoring the ache that flared across her ribs. “And you always get me the information I need. That’s how this works, right?”
Dotina exhaled, tilting her head as she reached into a drawer. “Of course. Business as usual.” She retrieved a slim folder, sliding it across the desk. “As promised.”
Lili stepped forward, picking it up and flipping it open. But she barely glanced at the contents before her gaze flickered back to Dotina. “That’s it?”
Dotina smiled, a slow, knowing curve of her lips. “What else were you expecting?”
Lili wasn’t sure. Maybe something more. Maybe something she didn’t have a name for yet. But she didn’t press. Instead, she looked down at the paper in front of her. The address of Joyce’s home. Another for her parents.
“This should lead you somewhere useful,” Dotina added, her voice light. “If you’re lucky.”
Lili closed the folder. “I don’t believe in luck.”
Dotina smirked. “No. You believe in results.”
Lili nodded, tucking the folder under her arm. “And I always get them.”
Lili hesitated for a fraction of a second before speaking again. “Can you give me back that necklace I gave you?”
Dotina’s smirk didn’t falter, but something flickered in her eyes—something guarded. She leaned back in her chair, as if weighing the request, her fingers tapping lightly against the desk.
“That’s an odd thing to ask,” she mused. “You handed it over without hesitation. What changed?”
Lili’s grip on the folder tightened. “I just want it back.”
Dotina let out a soft hum, as if considering. “Funny, I was under the impression that you didn’t care about sentimental things.”
Lili’s jaw clenched. She wasn’t in the mood for Dotina’s games. “Do you have it or not?”
Dotina studied her for a long moment before slowly shaking her head. “Afraid not,” she said smoothly. “Once something is in my possession, it tends to get… misplaced. You know how it is.”
Lili’s stomach twisted, though she kept her expression unreadable. She knew Dotina was lying. The woman never misplaced anything.
Dotina watched her carefully, gauging her reaction. “But let me ask you something, Lili,” she continued, her voice deceptively casual. “Why does it matter now? Was it just a trinket, or did you finally realize its value?”
Lili held her gaze, unblinking. She wasn’t sure what answer Dotina was fishing for, but she wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing her react. Instead, she exhaled slowly and forced a smirk. “I don’t like leaving loose ends.”
Dotina chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, Lili. If only that were true.”
The smirk vanished from Lili’s lips, replaced by a cold, sharp glare. Her fingers twitched slightly at her side, a subtle sign of the restraint she was forcing upon herself.
“You know well, Dotina,” she said, her voice dropping to a warning tone, “that you’re playing with fire. Be careful where you step, because next time, it might be you who burns.”
Dotina didn’t flinch. If anything, her smirk deepened, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Oh, Lili,” she purred, tilting her head as if studying a puzzle. “You say that like I don’t already know.”
The tension between them thickened, the air humming with an unspoken challenge. Lili could see it now—the way Dotina was testing her, pushing just enough to see how far she’d bend before she snapped.
Dotina leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping just above a whisper. “But the thing about fire, darling, is that it’s only dangerous to those who don’t know how to control it.”
Lili’s eyes darkened, the crimson hue bleeding into her irises like ink in water. Her dagger flew from its holster, hovering in the air between them, tilting ever so slightly as if testing its own sharpness. It wasn’t a threat. Not yet.
Dotina’s gaze flicked to the weapon before returning to Lili’s face, something unreadable lurking beneath her amusement. “Impressive,” she murmured, tilting her head. “But unnecessary. You and I both know you won’t use it.”
Lili didn’t blink. “You’d be surprised.”
Dotina exhaled a quiet laugh, unbothered. “No, darling. I wouldn’t.” She leaned back, crossing her legs with deliberate ease. “Because if you were going to do something, you wouldn’t be warning me first.”
The dagger tilted just a little more, a fraction closer to her.
“Are you so sure about that?” Lili’s voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it—something dangerous curling beneath the surface.
Dotina held her gaze, something flickering in her eyes. Not fear. But awareness. A silent recognition that, for all her confidence, she was still standing on a razor’s edge.
Then, just as suddenly, Lili pulled her power back. The dagger stilled, then dropped cleanly back into its holster, the red in her eyes fading as quickly as it had appeared.
Lili turned away before she did something she’d regret. “Enjoy your fire, Dotina,” she murmured as she strode toward the door. “I hope you’re as immune as you think.”
And with that, she was gone, leaving the room colder than it had been before…
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