“Nothing to say?” Evan taunted, stepping closer. “You should apologize, Claire. Maybe I’ll let you out if you do.”

But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. The words burned in my throat, unspoken, but they were the last thing I could control. I bit my tongue, waiting.

Evan’s patience snapped. He lunged forward, his hands clamping around my shoulders, shaking me as if it would jolt an apology free. Pain shot through my ribs, but I refused to cry out. I wouldn’t give him that, either.

Suddenly, a noise upstairs—a door slamming, heavy footsteps. Evan paused, confusion flickering across his face. It was the only warning he got before chaos erupted.

The basement door swung open with a bang, and there stood my father, flanked by two of his men. His gaze swept over me, taking in the bruises, the way I cradled my side, and something in his eyes hardened. “Evan,” my father said, his voice smooth and lethal. “You’ve made a mistake.”

Evan released me, stumbling back, his bravado wavering. “Mr. Russo, I—I didn’t mean—”

“Save it,” my father interrupted, stepping forward. The two men with him moved like shadows, pinning Evan against the wall. He struggled, but it was futile. My father’s presence seemed to drain the fight from him.

“Claire,” my father said, softer now, “Are you alright?”

I nodded, tears spilling over. Relief made me weak, loosened the tight coil of fear in my chest. “He…he broke my ribs,” I managed to say, each word a victory.

My father’s expression darkened. “We’ll take care of you,” he promised, then turned his attention back to Evan. “As for you, you’ve hurt my daughter. That’s unforgivable.”

Evan’s protests were cut off when my father’s men dragged him up the stairs. I didn’t care to know what would happen next. Justice, in my father’s world, was swift and ruthless.

“Come on, sweetheart,” my father said, helping me to my feet. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

With his arm around me, I climbed the basement steps, leaving the darkness behind. I knew I had a long road to recovery, but I wasn’t alone. I had my father, a man who, despite his faults, had always been there when it mattered most. In the silence of the night, as we left the house that had become a prison, I realized: I was free.