Run With The Devil

Revealing Shadows

I had just turned my back, about to check on our supplies, when I felt a sudden gust of wind. Before I could react, Lyra was in front of me, gripping my arm tightly. Her movements were so fast that even I, someone used to staying on edge, barely registered it. Her speed-I'd seen it before, but feeling it up close was something else entirely.

Her eyes, wide and intense, locked onto mine. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice firm but laced with uncertainty. "Like seriously? You seem to hold a lot of power. Those people-the men-they listened to what you said and didn't even question you. Should I be worried?"

There it was, the question I knew would come eventually. Lyra wasn't stupid, far from it. She'd been observant, putting together the pieces in her own way. Her instincts were sharp-probably sharpened by the years of survival in that lab.

For a moment, I stood there, thinking through my response. Could I really tell her who I was? The Mafia Don? The man who controlled an empire built on fear, loyalty, and power? I didn't know how much she understood about the world outside the lab, let alone the concept of a Mafia. Did she even know what that was?

But I could see in her eyes that she needed an answer, and not a vague one. She needed to trust me, or at least know where she stood.

I kept my voice calm, composed. "Just know I'm someone you can rely on."

Her grip tightened. "That's not an answer." Her gaze sharpened, as if she could read between my words. "You don't just 'rely' on someone who commands that much respect. You control things, don't you? Who are you really?"

Her persistence was admirable, and I couldn't help but respect it. She deserved to know something, but not everything. Not yet.

I sighed, keeping my voice steady, meeting her gaze without flinching. "Lyra, I'm not someone who can be easily explained. Yes, I have power. Yes, people listen to me without question. But that power comes with responsibility. The men you saw follow me because I've earned their respect-and because I protect what's mine."

Her expression softened slightly, but she still held on, not ready to let the moment go. "Am I... something to protect?" she asked cautiously.

"You are now," I replied without hesitation.

Her hand slowly released my arm, but her eyes didn't waver from mine. She was studying me, trying to figure out if she could trust my words. I couldn't blame her-she had every right to be wary after everything she'd been through.

"I know this all feels... confusing," I continued, choosing my words carefully. "But my goal is simple: to keep you safe. To make sure no one uses you like they did back in that lab. Whatever you are-whatever they did to you-that doesn't define you. You deserve a chance at a life outside of all that."

Lyra's eyes flickered with uncertainty, and then something else-determination, maybe? It was hard to tell. She took a step back, her arms folding over her chest as she processed everything.

"And I can trust you?" she asked, quieter now.

I nodded. "You can. I'm not a good man, Lyra. But I'm someone who keeps my word. If I say I'll protect you, I mean it."

She stayed silent for a moment longer, then nodded slowly. "Okay. For now, I'll trust you. But I need answers at some point. I need to know who I'm running with."

I gave her a slight smirk. "Fair enough. You'll get your answers when the time's right."

With that, the tension between us eased. Lyra still had her suspicions, but for now, she seemed willing to let things play out. She stepped back to the bed, sitting down, though her eyes stayed on me. She was cautious, and I respected that.