Chapter 2

Arthur worked fast.

By the time he laid the file in front of me, I had already burned through two cigarettes.

It was just a few sheets of paper. Nothing more.

But in my hand, it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

"Miss, your old injury is flaring up again. You had it under control."

"This Damien of yours—he really has put you through hell."

Arthur bandaged my bleeding wrist and let out a heavy sigh.

I flipped through the documents, and a strange laugh tore out of me, slow and stunned.

Five years ago. To the very day. That was when Damien and Vivienne met.

He had been sent north to Ashbury by Grandfather on a high-risk job.

It was the first time he failed.

When we finally found him, he was being held in an abandoned chemical plant on Ashbury's docks.

The men who'd caught him thought he was worth something. They tortured him, but they didn't kill him.

Vivienne was the nurse they used to treat his wounds.

I led the team that stormed the plant. We got Damien out, but I took a hit from behind. It severed the tendons in my wrist. I would never hold a gun again.

I was afraid of what the family would do if they found out, so I hid the injury. Even from Damien.

I never imagined that after that night, he would have stayed in contact with Vivienne.

Vivienne had no family, nowhere to go.

So Damien hid her away in a property registered in my name.

The house Grandfather had prepared as our future home.

One date in the report jumped off the page.

The day I had my first miscarriage. It was the same day Vivienne's pregnancy test came back positive.

The words on the page were a thousand tiny knives, working over my heart.

When I reached the last line, I lit the pages on fire and laughed, helpless and hollow.

The flickering flames caught the wetness welling up in my eyes.

"Miss. Damien has rerouted your private blood supply. He's using it for the Ashford girl."

One of my men had come in to report.

I closed my eyes and said nothing.

When I opened them again, I was calm. The way I always was.

"If he wants her to have it, send her more. Let it drive the evil out."

I was selecting the candles for the memorial that evening when a man came back with footage.

On screen, Vivienne was screaming as someone doused her in a bucket of blood.

Damien had just rushed back with a doctor. He was caught off guard. Arthur had him pinned to the floor.

"Get off me! Let her go!"

He was raging like a wounded animal, roaring himself hoarse.

A second later, Arthur had Vivienne by the jaw. He backhanded her across the face. Left, right, left. Ten full slaps.

Her cheeks were swollen like ripe fruit before Arthur finally leaned down to Damien.

"Mr. Blackwood. The more you care for this woman, the faster she dies."

"If you don't show at tonight's memorial, I think you know exactly what happens."

Damien gasped for air, then slowly raised his head.

Those eyes stared straight into the camera.

The hate rolling off him was so thick, so black, that my hand froze on the candle.

The look was too familiar.

For a heartbeat, I was back ten years ago.

A skinny boy, covered in blood, dragging himself forward on nothing but willpower, all the way to my feet.

He had said several things to me that day, but I could only remember the last line.

"Miss Harrington. Pick me."

"I will never betray you..."

By the time Arthur returned with his men, I was already kneeling in the family chapel.

It was where I went when I needed to clear my head. But tonight, the noise in my mind wouldn't quiet down.

"Miss. It's almost time."

I brushed the dust off my dress and walked, step by measured step, to the crypt hall.

The annual memorial was the most important night of the year. Every member of the Harrington family was gathered there.

Grandfather sat in the central chair, his eyes sweeping the room.

"Where's Damien?"

Every head turned toward me.

Over the past decade, Damien had earned the family's acceptance on pure merit, outsider name or not.

Tonight, Grandfather had planned to announce our engagement.

I pressed my lips together, about to speak, when a commotion broke out at the door.