Vinny woke to a faint warmth pressed against his cheek.
It took him a moment to realize he was lying on soft sheets… alone. No heavy arms around him. No chains pulling at his ankles. No cuffs biting his wrists.
He blinked.
Then blinked again.
The moment the realization hit, a slow, satisfied smile stretched across his lips.
"Well, well…" he murmured to himself, flexing his fingers and rolling his wrists. "Looks like someone finally grew a conscience."
He sat up, stretching his back with a small groan. He was a bit sore—okay, a lot sore—but he wasn't going to melt into a puddle of feelings about it. He'd survived worse and still looked good doing it.
He glanced around the room.
Empty.
The spot where Matthew usually watched him like a hawk was cold.
For a second—just a second—Vinny frowned.
Matthew never left him alone this long. Especially not after last night.
Then—
"ARE YOU ALL INCOMPETENT OR JUST BRAIN-DEAD?!"
A furious roar echoed faintly through the hallway.
