Noa didn’t speak for an hour.

Not to Ivy.

Not to Alessio.

Not even to himself.

He just stared at the classified page. That name Sabine Hartmann burned itself into his skull like a brand.

Biological mother.

What a joke.

He’d spent years wondering who made him. Years pretending it didn’t matter. Years trying to claw his way out of the monster pit he’d been born into.

Turns out, the bitch who made the monsters was the one who made him too.

“I need air,” he muttered.

Alessio blocked the ...