I carefully unlock the basement door and open it before descending the wooden stairs. Stepping onto the concrete, I look inside the cell and meet Natasha's eyes. She stares at me, as if sizing me up for a fight, as I slowly walk towards the cell. I frown, though inside I'm smiling.

Five years later, I'm finally in front of Natasha, with her at my complete mercy. A shiver runs down my spine, but I don't let the emotion show on my face.

She's covered in dust and grime, but she's still the most stunning woman I've ever seen. I could kiss her right now... Make her mine right here on the cement, and it would be as good as in any bed.

That's still not an option.

I force myself to focus my thoughts and look at her as if she were any other girl. "Hi," I say, making sure my frown remains.

"What the hell do you want?" she asks, squinting.

I try to guess if she recognizes me, but I don't know. From what I've heard, she directs her hatred toward anyone who sets foot in here, so this may be her norm.

I pull the granola bar out of my pocket and hold it up for him to see. His eyes widen for an instant, but he recovers quickly and stares at me again.

"I thought you might be hungry."

"Go to hell."

I put down the granola bar and glance at the water pitchers in the corner next to her. "I hear your name is Ivy." I look at her again. "Is it true?"

No answer.

‘’I'm going to take that as a yes. I understand that you want to keep your pride, Ivy. I get it. You've been stripped of your freedom and you feel that to behave yourself would be to give in, and maybe you're right. So I won't ask. You owe me nothing.’’ I bend down and stretch my arm between the bars, laying the meager offering on the floor before standing up, turning and forcing myself to walk away.

"Wait," he says when I'm halfway down the stairs. Her voice is barely audible, and I wonder if I've heard her. I glance over my shoulder and see that she hasn't moved from her seat. The granola bar is where I left it.

We look into each other's eyes, and in her I see so much desperation that the frown on my lips is genuine this time. I turn around completely, but I don't go down the steps.

"Yes?" I shout.

"Is Naomi okay?"

"Naomi?", I ask, though I know exactly who she means. Her new name is April, and she's one of the women who came with Natasha. Apparently she was quite resistant the first few days, but she's up and cooperating now.

‘’April," Natasha corrects. She clears her throat, "Is April okay?’’

I slowly walk downstairs and make my way to the cell. I lean against the bars and look inside. "Is she your friend?"

No answer. No surprise.

‘’I don't know any April.’’ That's a half-truth. I've never met her. -But I could find out who she is and if she's okay. If she's important to you.

Natasha's eyes roam my face as she watches me, frowning slightly. I wonder what she sees. I'm sure it's another monster.

"Who are you?" she asks. She narrows her eyes skeptically, as if preparing for a lie or a truth she doesn't want to hear.

I take a moment to think about what to say. She's told me virtually nothing, so I'd like to leave her curious.

‘’Mr. A," I reply, "I am a resident of the island.

There's a pause while she digests that, her pretty eyes searching for more information from me. "What are you doing down here?"

I shrug slightly, as if even I don't know the answer. "I heard you were having a hard time."

Before he can ask another question, I turn and walk away. This time he doesn't ask me to wait, and when I emerge from the basement, I find Lucian waiting for me with a smirk.

‘’Better luck next time, buddy.’’ He pats me on the shoulder and turns to wrap the chain around the door handle. He looks over his shoulder before speaking again. Although I have to hand it to him... The fact that he didn't try to attack you is impressive.

He needs patience. Be gentle and he'll stop biting.''

He laughs. "If you say so."

He awkwardly handles the lock, still giggling slyly, as if this is funny. As if we're not talking about a woman's life.

‘’Give him time," I say, my tone so serious that it takes the humor out of it. He'll change his mind.

He closes the lock and turns to me. "You think?"

I nod and pat him on the shoulder before walking past him. "I'll be back tomorrow."