Chapter 100 -
They sat in silence while Nia mechanically worked her way through a few bites of food. Not enough to satisfy Rosa probably, but more than she had eaten in days. Micheal watched her carefully, his usual humor dimmed to something more serious.
“Can I ask you something?” Nia said after a while.
“Sure,” Micheal said.
“If someone does come after me,” Nia started, then stopped. The question felt too big, too frightening to say out loud.
“If someone comes after you, they will have to go through Matteo first,” Micheal said. “And me. And Christian. And Leo. And every other person in this house who has decided they give a damn about you staying alive.”
“Leo does not care about me,” Nia said quietly.
Micheal’s expression softened. “He cares. He is just terrible at showing it. The DeSanto family curse, remember? We are all emotionally stunted idiots who do not know how to express feelings without making everything worse.”
“That is not reassuring,” Nia said.
“It was not meant to be reassuring,” Micheal said. “It was meant to be honest.” He stood, stretching his arms over his head. “I am going to leave the tray here. Try to eat more when you can. And Nia?”
“Yeah?”
“Do not give up yet,” Micheal said. His face was grim, all traces of his usual easy smile gone. “I know things look bad. I know you are scared. But we are going to figure this out. We are going to find whoever is responsible and we are going to end this. You just have to hold on a little longer.”
“How much longer?” Nia asked.
“Four more days,” Micheal said. “Until the Don’s deadline. Four more days for Leo to find answers or for everything to fall apart.”
He moved toward the door, his hand on the knob. Before he left, he looked back at Nia one more time.
“You are not alone in this,” he said. “Whatever happens, whatever comes next, you have people who care about you. People who will fight for you. Remember that.”
Nia sat on the bed, staring at the tray of food, processing everything Micheal had said.
She was not just a prisoner anymore. She was a target. Someone out there might be planning to kill her, and she had no way to stop them except to trust the very people who had taken her captive in the first place.
Four more days.
Four more days until the deadline.
Four more days until everything changed.
Nia pulled her knees to her chest and stared at the wall where shadows moved in the afternoon light.
And for the first time since this whole nightmare began, she was not sure she would survive to see what came after.
Micheal did not leave after his grim warning. Instead, he moved back to the chair and sat down like he was settling in for a long conversation. He reached for the water pitcher on the tray Rosa had sent up and poured a glass, the liquid making soft splashing sounds as it filled the crystal.
“Drink this,” he said, holding it out to Nia.
She took it automatically, her fingers wrapping around the cold glass. “I thought you were leaving.”
“Changed my mind,” Micheal said. He leaned back in the chair, one ankle crossed over his knee in a pose that looked casual but Nia could see the tension in his shoulders. “You need more than food and warnings. You need a reality check.”
“I think I have had enough reality lately,” Nia said. She took a sip of water, feeling it cool her raw throat.
“No,” Micheal said. “You have had trauma. You have had fear. You have had your world turned upside down and shaken until nothing makes sense anymore. But you have not had reality. Not the real reality of what it means to survive in this world.”
Nia set the glass down on the nightstand with more force than necessary. “And you are going to give me a lecture? Is that what this is? Because I am really not in the mood for the youngest DeSanto brother to explain to me how I should be handling my captivity.”
“Good,” Micheal said, and there was approval in his voice. “That anger? Hold onto it. Use it. Because anger will keep you alive better than fear ever will.”
“I am not afraid,” Nia lied.
Micheal raised an eyebrow. “You have been hiding in this room for three days. You have not eaten. You have not slept properly. You look like you are one bad news delivery away from completely shattering. So yeah, Nia, you are afraid. And that is okay. Fear is normal. But staying afraid? That will get you killed.”
“So what?” Nia demanded. “I should just stop being scared? Just decide to be brave and everything will be fine?”
“No,” Micheal said. He leaned forward now, his elbows on his knees, his eyes intense in a way Nia had never seen from him before. Usually Micheal was all jokes and easy smiles, but right now he looked like a completely different person. Harder. More dangerous. “I am saying you need to stop being a victim. You need to stop waiting for someone to save you and start saving yourself.”
“How?” Nia asked. “I am locked in this room. I am surrounded by guards. I am trapped in a house full of people who could kill me without thinking twice. How exactly am I supposed to save myself?”
“By being smarter than they expect,” Micheal said. “By being stronger than they think you are. By refusing to break even when they are trying their hardest to make you.”
He stood suddenly, starting to pace the room. Nia watched him move, watched the way his hands gestured as he talked, the way his whole body seemed charged with energy he needed to burn off.
“Let me tell you something about this world,” Micheal said. “The Cimmera, the families, all of it. It operates on power. Not money, not connections, not even violence, though that is part of it. Power. Who has it, who wants it, who is willing to do whatever it takes to get it.”
“I do not have power,” Nia said quietly.
“Wrong,” Micheal said. He spun to face her, pointing at her with one hand. “You have more power than you realize. You are the connection to Alex. You are the person Leo is fighting to protect. You are the reason the Don has not already sent his men to tear this house apart looking for answers. You have power, Nia. You just have not figured out how to use it yet.”
“That is not power,” Nia argued. “That is just being useful. Being leverage. Being a pawn.”
“Pawns can become queens,” Micheal said. “In chess. In life. In this family. But only if they survive long enough to cross the board.”
He came back to the chair, sitting down again and fixing Nia with a look that made her want to squirm. “You want to know why I am really here? Why I am taking time out of my day to sit in your room and give you this speech?”
“Why?” Nia asked.
“Because I like you,” Micheal said simply. “And I do not like very many people. Most people in this world are either trying to use you or kill you, and sometimes both at the same time. But you? You are different. You are real. You are honest. You are someone worth protecting.”
“So protect me,” Nia said. “You and Leo and Christian and all the guards and guns and walls. Protect me and let me go back to hiding until this is over.”
“No,” Micheal said firmly. “Because that is not how you survive this. Hiding makes you weak. Hiding makes you prey. And in this world, Nia, prey gets eaten.”