It was a busy day, filled with mindless tasks I didn't want to do, but someone had to.

My thoughts were once again on Ginger and on a way to get her back to me. The PI had discovered something, but he wanted to meet me in the city to discuss it. 

I decided to meet up with Alberti at my favorite restaurant so we could go over what he’d found. "I think I found the town," he told me when we shook his hand, almost too excited to hold the information in. "It's called Hollyhock."

"Hollyhock," I repeated. "It does sound familiar."

"It has to be her. But you'll be shocked when you see everything I've found."

We sat at my regular table and pored over his findings together.

"She is part of a family, a big one," he went on. "Three girls. Twins, and Ginger, the oldest girl."

"I never knew she still had a family. I thought they were estranger. She never spoke of any sisters, or of her parents."

"Might be a good reason for that," Alberti muttered, pulling out a newspaper clipping. "Look at this. It's from a newspaper when she was seventeen years old."

I took the piece of paper in my hands, reading over the text.

"Her family died in a house fire? How tragic."

"Not all of them. She survived, along with one sister. Except as it turns out, the sister was the one who set fire to the house."

"What?" I furrowed my brows. "She killed her own parents? Her twin sister?"

"Seems that way." Alberti nodded solemnly. "Ginger was questioned about her."

"And what happened? Did the sister get away with it?"

"No, She was put in Hollyhock's local asylum."

"The one Ginger told me about." I nodded. "Was she unstable?"

"According to the police, yes. But here's the real catch. They questioned Ginger about it time and time again, and she always insisted her sister was innocent. That she hadn't meant to hurt anyone, that it was an accident."

"And then?"

"Tthen, on the day of the hearing, something changed." Alberti shrugged. "Because she testified against the girl. And it was her conviction of her sister's actions that sent the girl to the asylum."

"Wow," I muttered. "Something, or someone, must have convinced her the sister had really done it."

"Maybe. But there might be more to the story than we think."

"What happened after that?"

"It looks like Kain found her afterward. And this is the point where she came to work for him, just when she turned eighteen."

"She must have been struggling. Her testimony landed her sister in the asylum. But what changed her mind? What convinced her that she'd really done it?"

"I still don't know. But maybe you can ask her yourself."

I glared at him, my words barely a whisper as I said, "You found her?"

"I might as well have," Alberti informed me triumphantly. "All trace of her was lost after she worked for Kain. But she made an appearance in Hollyhock again."

"When?"

"Just last week. She visited an old family friend by the name of Jonathan Smith. I spoke to him on the phone. Nice chap."

"And?" I growled, demanding more information and soliciting a worried, almost scared look from Alberti.

Fucking good. Better to be feared than forgotten.

"And he gave her money to make a trip," he said. 

"Where?"

"That's the real kicker," Alberti laughed. "I couldn't believe it—-"

I was up on my feet in seconds, grabbing him by the shirt as he huffed and puffed, drawing him closer over the table. His face reddened, and I could feel everybody's eyes on us.

"Where?" I growled again.

"H-Here," he stuttered. "She's here, in Venice."

"What?" My eyes widened. "Did she find me? Does she want to see me?"

"I don't th-think so," Alberti replied, and I let go of him, making him cough and sputter and glare at me as if I were the criminal.

We sat back down and I stared at him while he cleared his throat, pretending nothing happened.

"What then?" I demanded.

"I think," he said, leaning forward, " she's here to see her sister."

"The murderer? Who is it?"

He hesitated, but my look of warning seemed to be enough to convince him he didn't want a repeat of the previous scenario.

"Sir," he said regretfully. "I'm afraid… I…."

I kept glaring.

"It's Astor," he finally blurted.

"Astor?" I repeated. "My assistant? My…."

"Yes," Alberti answered after an uncomfortable silence. "I don't know if she knows of your connection to Ginger, but yes, it's her."

"Fuck," I muttered. "Where is she staying?"

"A dingy hotel outside the city. I can take you there after we eat—"

I didn't wait, just threw some hundred-euro bills on the table and stalked out of the room.

With a sigh, Alberti followed.

Hours later, we'd searched the dingy hotel from top to bottom. No one knew a thing, not until the manager came to work and informed us Miss Adley's things had been moved to the Palazzo.

The Palazzo, where Astor was staying. My girl could be in danger.

With my heart still pounding from all the new information, Alberti and I made our way to the fancy hotel, where the staff informed us she wasn't there. They also said Astor was out.

My blood fucking chilled. Was she going to hurt Ginger? I could never let that happen.

Just then I received a call from my assistant, Vittorio.

"Hello, sir," he said. "You have a visitor here at the house."

"Astor?" I barked.

"No. She says she's her sister. They do look alike."

Adrenaline pumped through my body.

"Don't let her go anywhere," I instructed. "And keep your eyes on her. Someone needs to guard her, watch her. I swear to God, Vittorio, if something happens to that girl, I will fucking kill you."

"Y-yes, sir," he responded shakily. "When can we expect you?"

"As soon as I can get there."

I ended the call and explained things to Alberti. We said a brusque goodbye in front of the Palazzo, after which I called the driver of my boat. The motorboat was faster, and I was hoping to reach the house in less than thirty minutes. 

As we drove, the boat crashing into wave after wave, I let my mind wander for the first time in years. There was so much Ginger hadn't told me. She'd been hiding things from me, but I suspected as much from the moment I'd met her.

I couldn't imagine what it had been like to condemn her sister to a life in the Hollyhock Asylum. That must've wreaked havoc on Ginger. How was she coping with it? Did she know who I was?

I called my assistant to check if she knew about me, but reception was shit on the boat and the call wouldn't go through.

My thoughts filled with Astor next. The little snake I'd fed while she grew stronger and stronger. Did she know about Ginger? Did she know about our past? Was this her little fucked-up idea of revenge?

I needed to make sure Ginger was all right, but Astor was next on my list. If she really was the psychopath Alberti's research had showed her to be, I needed to get her as far away from her sister as possible.

Guilt racked my brain as I thought of Astor. I'd fucked Ginger's sister, and I already knew she would never forgive me for that.

I needed to find out if she already knew, then find the perfect moment to tell her. I only had one goal in mind, only one outcome from all of this, and it involved Ginger and me together, with Astor locked up.

I stood up as we approached the property and was off the boat before we'd even docked properly. I ran toward the house, my heart beating faster than ever as I tracked down Vittorio.

"Where is she?" I barked at him. "Are you keeping a fucking eye on her?"

"Y-yes," he stuttered. "The maid, Carlotta, is with her."

"Where?"

"The sitting room. She asked about you a few times. I don't think she knows your name."

A smile found its way to my lips.

My little treasure had no idea what she'd stumbled upon. What the fuck was she doing here, then? It had to do something with her sister. I was sure of it.

I took a deep breath, standing outside the sitting room. I could almost feel her presence, and it was fucking electrifying. I'd never wanted her more.

I rounded my shoulders and entered the room with a confident smile.

And there she was, standing right in front of me, every bit as beautiful as she had been seven years ago. Except now there was more—so much more that I couldn't look away. My eyes remained glued to her, drinking in every single one of her features, committing them to memory in case she disappeared from my life again.  

"R-Ryker?" she stuttered, and at the sound of her voice, my cock jumped to attention.

I was thick in seconds, swollen with the thought of her. How I'd taken her sweet virgin pussy while Ophelia watched. How tight, wet, fucking needy she'd been for me. What a little whore she turned into every time I was near her after that. She wasn't an innocent little virgin, oh no. She was a slut for me, and she couldn't fucking stay away.

"Ginger."

It wasn't a question but a statement, declaring her presence to the world.

I half hoped she'd notice my sizeable erection, that the thick precum leaking off my tip made a stain on my trousers. God, I wanted to pull her on top of me, let my hands explore her sinful body. I wanted to listen to her moaning, her bee-stung lips wrapped around my lobe while she moaned in my ear. 

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"What the fuck do you mean?" I growled, incapable of much else.

Her mere presence filled me with need, the simple, primal instinct to fuck her making me hyper-aware of everything around us. 

The way her hard nipples struggled against her tight little top.

The scent of her pussy. I fucking knew she was wet for me.

She reached up to her collarbone, her fingers enticing me by tracing her shoulder.

"I live here," I told her. "This is my place. What are you doing here, lost little lamb?"

I could see she was hurting, and the pang of regret hit a second too late. When she shrank back, I felt guilty as hell. Instead of addressing it, I cleared my throat and stared at her with my eyebrows knitted together.

"Well?" I demanded.

"I-I'm looking for someone," she managed to get out. "They call him L'Imperatore. Maybe you've heard of him?"

I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Come on," I said, motioning for her to join me. "We need to talk."