Lucio's POV

The early morning haze blurred my thoughts as I sat at the small desk in the corner of the room, staring at my laptop screen but accomplishing nothing. The events of the past night replayed like a broken record. Kate's trembling, her soft cries, and the way she clung to me as though I was her lifeline—it all stuck with me in a way I couldn't ignore.

Her vulnerability was something I wasn't used to. I was accustomed to strength, defiance, and control—things that Kate displayed in abundance most days. But last night, she was broken, fragile, and afraid. Whoever had hurt her had left scars that weren't just physical.

The faint sound of her stirring pulled me out of my thoughts. I glanced over my shoulder to see her waking, her face still bearing traces of the tears she'd shed. Her eyes met mine briefly, but she quickly looked away, as if embarrassed by her breakdown.

"Morning," I said softly, but the tension in the room was palpable.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes like a child, and stretched before noticing my presence fully. "Morning," she replied quietly, her voice hoarse.

The moment felt heavy with unspoken words. I wanted to ask her about the nightmare, to demand answers about who or what had caused her so much pain. But I also didn't want to push her away.

As she climbed out of bed, she muttered something about needing to go to the bathroom. I noticed her wince slightly as she walked, and I cursed under my breath. Last night's panic had taken a toll on her physically, too.

"Kate," I said, my voice firmer now. "About last night—"

"I don't want to talk about it," she cut me off, not even turning to face me.

I stood, my frustration bubbling over. "You can't keep brushing things off like this. Whoever or whatever is haunting you, it's not going to just disappear because you ignore it."

Her steps faltered, but she didn't respond. Instead, she headed for the door, brushing past me without another word.

Kate's POV

I hated that he had seen me so vulnerable. The man who had bought me, who treated me like a piece of property, was the last person I wanted to witness my breakdown. But in that moment, I couldn't control it. The memories had consumed me, pulling me into a darkness I couldn't escape.

Now, as I walked down the hallway toward the bathroom, his words echoed in my mind. You can't keep brushing things off like this.

He was right, but admitting that would mean confronting things I wasn't ready to face. My body still ached from the tension of the nightmare, and my mind felt raw. I wanted to scream, cry, and lash out, but I was too drained to do any of it.

By the time I returned to the room, Lucio was gone. Good. I wasn't ready to deal with him yet.

The two-hour car ride back to the house was unbearable. The silence between us was suffocating, but I refused to be the one to break it. Lucio occasionally glanced my way, but I kept my gaze fixed out the window, watching the scenery blur past.

When we finally arrived, I bolted from the car without a word, ignoring the greetings from the guys as I ran upstairs. I needed to be alone.

Once inside my room, I locked the door and collapsed onto the floor. The tears I had held back since morning came flooding out. The sobs racked my body, each one more painful than the last.

"Why?" I whispered to no one. "Why does it never end?"

My hands trembled as I pressed them to my face, trying to muffle my cries. I felt like I was unraveling, the weight of my past crushing me.

"Dad, why did you leave me?" My voice cracked as I spoke to the empty room. "Why couldn't you stay? I needed you."

The memories of my father, the one person who had ever made me feel safe, collided with the haunting images of the people who had hurt me. It was too much.

I didn't hear the knocking at first, but when it grew louder, I lifted my head. "Kate, open the door," Michen called from the other side.

"I'm fine. Just go away," I managed to choke out, my voice shaky.

"But Kate—"

"I said go away!" I shouted, cutting him off.

The knocking stopped, but I didn't move from my spot on the floor. I felt empty, drained of every ounce of strength I had left.

I crawled toward the closet, needing to do something, anything, to distract myself. I grabbed the first set of clothes I could find and began to change, but halfway through, the exhaustion caught up to me. I slumped to the floor, the world fading to black as my body gave in to the weight of it all.

Lucio's POV

The guys had told me she locked herself in her room, but I didn't need them to tell me that. I could hear her screams from downstairs, the sound tearing through the house and straight into my chest.

By the time I reached her door, it was silent again. "Kate," I called, but there was no answer.

I tried the handle, but it was locked. "Open the door," I demanded, but still, nothing.

"Michen, get me the key," I ordered, my patience wearing thin.

When the door finally swung open, the sight of her crumpled on the floor made my heart stop. She looked so small, so broken, and for a moment, I was frozen.

"Kate," I said softly, kneeling beside her.

Her eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused. "Go away," she murmured weakly.

"No," I said firmly. "I'm not leaving you like this."

She tried to push me away, but her strength was gone. I lifted her into my arms, her body limp against mine, and carried her to the bed.

She didn't fight me as I laid her down and pulled the blanket over her. For the first time, she didn't resist my presence, and that scared me more than anything.

As I sat beside her, watching her drift into an uneasy sleep, I made a silent vow. Whoever had hurt her, whoever had broken this girl who was too strong for her own good, would pay. And I wouldn't rest until they did.

Kate's POV:

The haze of sleep clung to me like a heavy fog, but I was aware of warmth nearby. It was Lucio. His presence was unmistakable, a strange mix of comfort and unease. My heart thudded against my ribs as the memories of the day washed over me in waves.

I blinked up at him, his green eyes searching mine. "Why are you still here?" I whispered, my voice raw from crying.

"Because you need someone," he replied simply, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "And whether you like it or not, I'm that someone."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "You think you can fix this? You think you can make it better? Lucio, you're part of the problem."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't look away. "Maybe I am. But that doesn't mean I'm walking away."

I sat up slowly, the ache in my chest matched only by the dull throb of my limbs. "You don't understand," I said, shaking my head. "You don't know what it's like to carry this... this weight."

"Then tell me," he said, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Tell me, Kate. I'm here."

The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard. I opened my mouth to respond, but the words got caught in my throat. How could I explain it? How could I make him see the scars no one else saw?

"I don't even know where to start," I admitted, my hands twisting in the fabric of the blanket.

He reached out, his hand covering mine, grounding me. "Start anywhere. Just... talk to me."

I took a shaky breath, the silence between us heavy with expectation. "When I was younger," I began, my voice trembling, "I thought the world was a good place. I thought people were kind, and love was unconditional. But then my dad left, and everything fell apart."

Lucio didn't interrupt, his grip on my hand firm but gentle. It gave me the strength to continue.

"My mom... she changed after he left. She wasn't the same. She didn't care about me anymore. She brought men into our home—men who weren't kind." My voice broke, and I looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

"What did they do?" His voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but the anger simmering beneath the surface was palpable.

I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. "I can't. I just can't."

"You don't have to," he said quickly, moving closer. "Kate, you don't have to say anything you're not ready to."

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me. "But I want to," I admitted. "I want to, but it's like... the words won't come out. They're stuck."

"Take your time," he said, his voice steady. "I'm not going anywhere."

We sat there in silence for what felt like an eternity, the weight of my memories pressing down on me. Finally, I managed to whisper, "They made me feel like I was nothing. Like I didn't matter."

"You matter, Kate," he said, his voice firm. "You matter more than you know."

I looked up at him, my tears blurring his face. "Why do you care? Why do you even care, Lucio?"

He hesitated, his jaw clenching as if he were debating whether to answer. "Because I see you, Kate. I see someone who's been through hell and is still standing. Someone who's stronger than they realize. And because... I care about you."

The admission took the air out of the room. I stared at him, stunned. "You... care about me?"

"Yes," he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I do."

My chest tightened, the vulnerability in his voice stripping away the walls I'd built around myself. For the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't alone.

I leaned into him, my head resting on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around me, holding me close as I let the tears fall freely. It wasn't a solution, but it was a start.

And for now, that was enough.