Chapter 38

The ride in Pietro’s limo was a whisper against the chaos of the last few days. I sat there, sandwiched between Jin and Pietro, the leather seats cool against my skin. The city lights danced across the windows, a kaleidoscope of freedom that I’d only just begun to taste. Pietro’s hand found mine, a silent promise of safety as we navigated through the maze of steel and concrete.

When the limo pulled up to a monolithic apartment building next to Central Park, I couldn’t help but do the math in my head. The penthouse we were about to enter? It had to be worth more than I could fathom. The fact that Pietro was willing to share his slice of luxury with all of us spoke volumes of his commitment.

Inside the elevator, Pietro’s thumb pressed against a sleek panel, the doors closing with a soft hiss as we ascended. Biometric security—a reminder that the world outside was still fraught with danger, despite the sanctuary Pietro was providing.

The penthouse was a testament to modern design, all clean lines and minimalist decor. But it was the windows that caught my attention, towering panes of glass that framed the city in a way that made it seem almost peaceful. I expected to feel exposed, but instead, I felt a sense of liberation. It was as if the city itself was cradling me in its vast, open arms.

Pietro led us through the space, his voice a low rumble as he pointed out various amenities. “This is just temporary,” he assured me, handing me a tablet with a screen that glowed like a promise. “We’ll get you everything you need to make a proper nest. For now, consider this a starting point.”

I scrolled through the tablet, the array of options overwhelming yet comforting. I could choose anything—anything at all—and it would be mine. The concept was as dizzying as the view from the penthouse windows.

The nest Pietro had prepared was a study in contrasts. Windowless and draped in the softest fabrics, it was a cocoon designed to soothe an omega’s senses. Fairy lights twinkled like distant stars, casting a warm glow over the plush textures. It was perfect, really. So why did it feel so wrong?

I caught Jin’s eye, and he gave me a small, knowing smile. He understood my need for freedom, my aversion to being caged—even if it was a gilded cage lined with silk and down.

Pietro watched me, his dark eyes searching mine. “Is everything to your liking?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. The truth was, I didn’t know what I liked anymore. My life had been a series of expectations and obligations, leaving little room for personal desires. But here, in this penthouse, I had the chance to discover what truly made me feel at home.

Jin’s hand brushed against mine, a silent show of support. “We can change anything you don’t like,” he said quietly. “This is your space, Darcy. Your sanctuary.”

I smiled at him, gratitude welling up within me. “Thank you,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. “Both of you. For everything.”

Pietro’s hand found the small of my back, a gentle pressure that grounded me. “You don’t have to thank us,” he said firmly. “We’re yours. Everything that we have is yours to do with what you like.”

The penthouse was a world unto itself, perched high above the city that had become my hunting ground. I had traded the gilded cage of my father’s mansion for this luxurious sanctuary, but the weight of freedom was a complex thing. I was no longer under my father’s thumb, yet I remained a bird with clipped wings, hunted by his relentless goons.

I stood at the edge of the nest Pietro had so thoughtfully prepared for me. It was a beautiful space, designed to be a haven for an omega in need of comfort and security. But as I traced the soft edges of the plush fabrics, I felt a pang of longing for the familiar textures of my own handiwork. The blankets I had crocheted myself, the small nuances that spoke of years of solitude and the careful crafting of my own sanctuary—all gone, destroyed by my own hands to keep my father’s prying eyes from ever understanding the depth of my need for escape.

Jin, ever observant, saw through the veil of my composure. “You miss your nest,” he stated more than asked, his voice a soft murmur that filled the space between us.

I met his gaze, the understanding in his eyes a balm to my aching heart. “I do,” I admitted, the words heavy with the loss of something deeply personal. “There was a comfort in the familiar, in the things I made with my own hands.”

Jin nodded, his mind already whirring with the promise of action. “I’ll get you a crocheting kit and yarn,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Whatever colors and textures you need.”

My heart swelled with gratitude, and I offered him a small, genuine smile. “Thank you, Jin. It means more than you know.”

Pietro, who had been watching our exchange with a quiet intensity, stepped forward. His presence was commanding, yet he moved with a careful reverence within the confines of my nest. “We want you to feel at home here, Darcy,” he said, his voice a low thrum that resonated with sincerity. “If there’s anything else you need, anything at all, you must tell us.”

I looked up at him, at the man who had taken on the role of protector and provider with an ease that both intimidated and comforted me. “I will,” I promised, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. “And I appreciate it more than I can say.”

I watch Jin as he steps away, his fingers already moving over his phone to order the supplies I’ll need to create a semblance of home within this sterile luxury. I can’t help but marvel at how effortlessly he reads me, at how he anticipates my needs before I’ve even voiced them. It’s both disconcerting and deeply touching.