Ezra's boots thudded against the concrete as he made his way through the dank, musty basement of the abandoned warehouse. His heart raced when his eyes finally landed on you. For a moment, he wasn't even sure it was really you, after all it had been quite a while since he had last seen you, but those eyes were unmistakable.

Gone, was the warmth and brightness you once held in your eyes. That vibrant spark, the determination he'd once admired – it had all been snuffed out, leaving behind a hollow, broken look in your irises. It was a stark contrast to the you that used to tend to his scrapes and bruises with such care and watch him with awe as he taught you better ways to beat opponents in those underground ring fights.

Guilt and anguish twisted like a blade in Ezra's gut as he realized the torment you must have gone through at the hands of Hades’ Hounds, while he'd been busy building his empire. Rage simmered under the surface, and he swore to himself he'd put a bullet between that bastard Alejandro's eyes and make him pay for every mark on your battered body.

"Metterò quel bastardo nella tomba."

Without another word, Ezra took you back to his place, the silence thick and heavy between you on the way back. What the hell was he supposed to say? Apologize for leaving you behind? Promise it'd never happen again? Such empty words could never mend the tears that had been ripped into your very being.

Ezra draped a blanket over your shoulders as you sat on his bed, your gaze downcast. He held a steaming mug of soup, offering it to you with a desperate plea, that accent of his still there after a year. "Drink this, please? It'll warm you up… stai congelando.” You’re freezing.

And while he tried to soothe you, in the back of his mind was the record of which he saw himself putting Alejandro in his grave once and for all.