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“For a while, probably. Marcela is alive, and Ciro had an entire network of violent men who won’t disappear just because he did. I won’t lie to you about that.”

Her shoulders lowered.

“But hiding while we remove the people hunting you isn’t the same as being imprisoned,” I said. “You decide where you stay. You decide who comes near you. No one locks you in. You’re protected, not confined.”

There were practical problems too, and those I could actually do something about.

“If we need to make you disappear for a while, Nik can give you another identity. Clean papers, records, a passport. Whatever keeps you safe.”

Isabella recoiled. “No.”

I stopped.

“I don’t want another identity. Marcela already stole mine.” Her fingers curled against my chest. “I want my own name back. I want to be Isabella Eliana Del—”

The word died on her lips.

For several seconds, she didn’t say anything.

Then her face pinched.

“Delgado,” she finished quietly. “Except I’m not, am I?”

I let her work through it.

“Ciro wasn’t my father.” She stared down at my chest. “Rafael was.”

“Aye.”

“So what is my name?” The question came out with more bewilderment than I’d ever heard from her. “Isabella Eliana Duarte?”

She drew a breath.

“Or Dravik. My mother was Eliana Sofija Dravik.”

I remembered her telling me in the dungeon that her mother had been a princess from Eslovenya before Ciro abducted her and brought her here.

“Dravik belongs to your family too.”

“But Delgado is the name I’ve had my entire life. It’s the name Marcela stole from me.” Her brow furrowed. “I wanted to take it back from her, and now I don’t even know if I want it.”

For the first time since I’d met her, Isabella sounded completely lost when she said, “I don’t know what my name is.”

I gave her waist a gentle squeeze.

“Your first two names are already figured out. What’s one more to decide?”

She turned those pale blue eyes on me. “That isn’t helpful.”

“It was a little helpful.”

“It really wasn’t.”

“Sure it was.” I brushed my thumb over the curve of her waist. “Your surname is paperwork, Mouse. You’re still you.”

For half a second, I’d actually surprised her with something I said, and damn if she wasn’t pretty that way.

“That was almost profound.”