CHAPTER 19

Jamie woke to silk.

Not the scratchy cot of the cell. Not stone or iron or cold. This bed was wide and soft, sheets tucked so tightly they felt intentional, almost gentle. For half a second—just half—his body relaxed on instinct.

Then he sat up.

The room was elegant in a way that made his stomach drop. High ceilings. Dark wood floors. Heavy curtains framing tall windows that looked out over the sea.

He swung his legs off the bed and crossed the room in three quick strides.

“Please don’t,” he muttered to himself, already raising his hands to hit the windows.

The glass didn’t even crack.

He hit it again, harder. Nothing. Not a tremor. Not a sound.

Unbreakable.

His breath started to come too fast. Hyperventilating.

The door clicked behind him.

Jamie spun.

Matteo stood there, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable. He looked… composed. Too composed. Like he’d already made peace with something Jamie hadn’t even been told yet.

“You moved me,” Jamie said hoarsely.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“This is more humane,” Matteo replied. “And more secure.”

Jamie laughed weakly. “You’re joking.”

Matteo didn’t smile.

Jamie’s chest tightened. “Where’s Lucas?”

Matteo closed the door behind him and leaned against it, gaze never leaving Jamie’s face. “He woke up again this morning.”

Jamie’s knees nearly gave out. “Is he okay?”

“He’s alive,” Matteo said carefully. “Physically stable.”

Jamie rushed forward. “I need to see him. Please. He must be terrified. He probably thinks I—”

“He doesn’t remember the night,” Matteo interrupted.

Jamie froze.

“What?”

“He remembers the beach. The pain. Waking up back here.” Matteo paused. “But the cove, the water, you being taken away—it’s fractured. Disoriented.”

Jamie swallowed. “Then let me talk to him. I can explain.”

Matteo’s eyes hardened. “No.”

Jamie’s voice cracked. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because,” Matteo said quietly, “Lucas believes you’re in a mental institution.”

The words landed like a physical blow.

Jamie staggered back. “What?”

“You’ve been… unstable,” Matteo continued, his tone clinical now. “Paranoia. Insomnia. Emotional volatility. From Lucas’s perspective, it explains everything.”

Jamie shook his head violently. “That’s a lie.”

“It’s a narrative,” Matteo corrected. “One that keeps him calm. Safe.”

“You’re gaslighting him,” Jamie whispered.

Matteo didn’t deny it.

“You won’t see him,” Matteo said, pushing off the door, “unless you cooperate.”

Jamie’s hands curled into fists. “Cooperate how?”

“By listening,” Matteo said. “By behaving. By not trying to escape again.”

Jamie laughed, hysterical and broken. “You’re imprisoning me. you- you monster!”

“I’m containing a volatile person who can not be trusted alone,” Matteo replied.

Tears blurred Jamie’s vision. “He’s my best friend. I have been with him through half his life. You don’t get to erase me.”

Matteo’s jaw tightened. “You erased yourself when you drugged me.”

Jamie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I did it because I was scared. Dont you get it!”

“And now,” Matteo said softly, “you’re going to learn what fear actually is.”

He turned to leave.

“Matteo,” Jamie said desperately. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just let me see him. Just once.”

Matteo paused with his hand on the handle.

“You will,” he said without looking back. “When I’m certain you won’t poison his reality the way you tried to poison me.”

The door shut.

The lock slid home.

Jamie collapsed onto the bed, clutching the sheets like they might tether him to something real.

Lucas thought he was crazy.

Lucas thought he had been taken away.

Lucas was healing—without him.

For the first time since arriving in Italy, Jamie didn’t feel hunted.

He felt erased.

And somewhere deep in the mansion, Matteo stood alone in the hallway, jaw clenched, wondering when exactly control had started to feel like cruelty—and why it still hadn’t been enough to make him let Jamie go.