It was so hard to accept that Charli was really gone.

There was no trace left behind. Not a hint of my sister. The only one that remembered, the only one that cared, was me.

I struggled with the memories of her, struggled with the guilt I felt for never understanding her and not having that sisterly connection she was so desperately working for. She’d done everything for me, and I’d been ungrateful and jealous of everything she had that I didn’t. Before she disappeared, I never understood how much I loved her. How much I cared. But now, it was too late.

I remembered standing at the grave Beau had set up in her honor. A beautiful statue of a marble angel watched over the empty patch of grass, and flowers and candles decorated the would-be place of rest as if they could make up for the way I’d treated my sister. Feelings of guilt plagued me, and I wondered if I’d ever be able to get rid of them. If I’d ever be able to think of Charlotte Rousseau and feel anything but gut-wrenching guilt.

Beau did his very best to make sure I forgot and moved on. The ring that sparkled on my finger was joined by a wedding band, and he bought a house in a quieter part of the city to start a new life with me. Beau was a changed man. He loved deeply, and he cared deeper. I knew since the day he put that engagement ring on my finger that he would take care of me. That I was his first priority, and he would always make sure I was alright. He hated with passion, but he loved with his whole heart. And he was dead set on making my life better and letting me live a fairytale.

As the days passed, my anger and guilt slowly eased and ebbed into a numb, tired feeling that was ever-present in the pit of my stomach. There wasn’t a day that went by without me laughing about something, and guilt hitting me in the most tender spot possible, reminding me I’d betrayed my sister. She was gone. Presumed dead, her body decaying God fucking knows where, kidnapped by the Georgians she owed money to.

I tried to console myself with the knowledge that we’d gotten revenge for her. Beau and I had successfully broken up the Georgian’s human trafficking ring. After several investigations and our testimony in court, the mob was no longer. Grigori was dead, killed by his own for a crime we still didn’t understand. Sandro was dead, and so was Silovan. With the three leaders gone, the remaining players were caught and imprisoned, and the rest scattered like rats into sewers.

We waited for weeks, months, to hear from the girls Beau had rescued.

The police gave us their word that they wouldn’t be prosecuted, and we never revealed what truly happened in the alley where Silovan died. But the girls never resurfaced.

Sometimes, I sat by the bay window of our new house, of our new beginning. My eyes scanned the beautiful landscape of our home, and I kept hoping somebody would appear. A girl, a gang of young women, headed by my sister. I still hoped she was okay, even though every fact spoke otherwise. Charli was gone. The night she disappeared, she probably met her fate. And I was the only one left of our fucked-up family.

I thought of my envy often. Of how jealous I was of Charli for no fucking reason, how I resented her for reasons she couldn’t affect. I ruined our relationship with my jealousy and hatred, and I vowed never to do it again.

I found myself as I fell deeply in love with Beau.

His gentleness compared to the cruel way he fucked my body like it was a toy.

His sweet whispers just before I fell asleep and the way he cursed and ordered me around when I was on my knees.

His wounded personality.

And last but not least, his scarred, handsome, beautiful face.

The face I was never scared of, even when he wanted me to be. The face I loved, the lines of his past now blending in with laugh lines of his present with me.

That morning, we woke up at the same time, and his hand found my swollen stomach. He stroked it with great care, his hands caressing the stretched skin and my belly button that was already starting to stick out in what I thought was the most unattractive way possible. Feeling self-conscious, I pushed his hand off and tried to turn to the side, but he wouldn’t let me.

“Let me fucking look, babydoll,” he said, and I gave him a weak smile. “Let me look at my beautiful fucking woman pregnant with my boy.”

“You know you’re going to have to stop cursing so much once the baby is born, right?” I asked him with raised eyebrows.

“I don’t give a shit,” he grinned at me wickedly. “My boy can take it.”

“We don’t know it’s a boy,” I reminded him. We’d decided not to find out the gender. Partly because it didn’t matter to us, and partly because Beau was absolutely convinced the child I was carrying was a boy. We’d had a huge fight only a few days prior when I walked into the nursery and found it painted in shades of blue and white. He didn’t care. He was totally convinced it was a boy, and no amount of banter could convince him otherwise.

“It’s a boy,” he said firmly. “I know it is.”

He stroked my belly and I relaxed against his touch. I felt troubled that morning, more so than I usually did. As the days passed and my tummy grew, I’d started to accept my new life and slowly settle into the role Beau had created for me. But there was something missing. A part of our relationship I’d loved so much, the thrill, the excitement I was beginning to associate with Beau.

But now that I was pregnant, he watched me like a hawk. He didn’t fuck me as roughly and he didn’t let me do anything exciting. Now that I was almost in my ninth month of pregnancy, I was getting really sick of it.

My body ached for more, but I couldn’t tell him. He would never agree to anything like that, not with his child growing inside me.

“I have a surprise for you,” Beau muttered, kissing a line down my stomach.

This excited me, and I pushed myself up on my elbows and gave him a curious look.

“What is it?” I asked, and he grinned.

He got up from the bed and dug in his wallet, bringing something towards me.

A playing card.

I turned it over in my hand and stared at the Queen of Hearts.

“What’s this?” I asked curiously, my eyes finding Beau’s. I tried not to get too excited, but I believed it was a promise.

“Something exciting,” he laughed. “For when you have the baby. There’s another present that goes with it. Close your eyes so I can give it to you.”

I did, and I felt him sneaking around the room. I didn’t dare peek, and the next second, I felt something cool wrap around my throat.

“Open your eyes,” Beau told me roughly, and I did.

There was a beautiful diamond necklace around my throat. Tight like a choker, with a longer part hanging down between my swollen tits, illuminating my complexion with the shine of the diamonds.

The loose end was in Beau’s hand.

“This is beautiful,” I breathed. “So beautiful… What did I do to deserve something like this?”

“You agreed to be mine,” he told me simply. “It’s a leash, babydoll. And the card… I found a gambling ring I want to take you to.”

My eyes widened as he rushed to explain.

“Don’t be scared,” he begged. “It’s not like the Georgians. Not as dangerous. But it’s high stakes, and it’s very private. It’s run by Empire Sin, and they are looking for someone to be the head of it. A couple. And they chose us.”

My eyes widened.

Empire Sin.

So long since I’d heard those two words. So long since I’d thought about its members, about Rhys, who took Beau’s first love and gave him his fortune.

This could be the beginning of something new. This could be exciting.

“Don’t be upset,” Beau said. “We don’t have to do it, babydoll. Not if you don’t want to. I thought you might like it, but–”

“I do,” I interrupted him. “I want to do it.”

His eyes lit up with silent fire.

“You sure?”

I nodded. I was sure. This was it. The thrill I was looking for. The excitement that filled the hole in my heart. The thing that would make me whole again.

“I love you,” I told Beau, and he grinned his crooked smile.

“I love you, babydoll.”

It was a promise, and this time, when he kissed me, I felt it in my bones.

He was my beast, and I was his Belle. Bonnie and Clyde. Romeo and Juliet. We were the new, twisted yet beautiful fairytale. The fucked-up kind.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

THE END