I’d hiked around the island for hours, hoping physical exhaustion would help me figure out what I should do. As dusk turned to darkness and I approached the house, I still didn’t have a fucking clue.

Nerves gathered in my stomach as I paused to stare at the warm glow radiating from Natalie’s windows. Sickness threatened when I thought of telling her about my past, but I forced the nausea back, knowing if it came to that, I’d have to lay it all out on the line regardless of how it would destroy things between us. After today, there wasn’t a lot left to destroy, so it really shouldn’t matter. And if she wasn’t going to believe she was in danger, I had to make it glaringly obvious for her.

My head told me I was doing the right thing, but my heart begged me to turn around. Brushing a dusty hand over my hair, I muttered, “Enough,” and pushed my legs forward.

I bypassed the front door, followed the wraparound porch to the back of the house, and entered through the kitchen. Silence met my ears as I kicked the door closed. My gaze skipped over the pristine counters and empty room, landing on a note pinned to the fridge.

I frowned as I tugged the note off the fridge and read it again. I knew what Sela wanted me to talk to Natalie about, and I hated that I’d come around to her way of thinking. The only plus in this whole fucked-up situation was that Natalie had eaten today.

Dropping my bag on a kitchen chair, I tossed the note in the garbage, then took my time washing the dirt off my hands and splashing water on my face. The sweet scent of Sela’s lasagna floated in the room, and my stomach grumbled, but I didn’t reach for the dinner she’d left me. My stomach was still in too much of a knot, and I knew I’d never be able to eat until I did what I’d come here to do.

Bracing myself for the inevitable, I turned for the hall and told myself I was out of options, that I was doing the right thing. But still I clung to the hope that when I opened her door, the woman who’d adored me so completely in Italy would be the one staring back at me, not the one who hated me on this island with every fiber of her being.

Instinct told me to push the door open so she couldn’t turn me away, but I lifted my hand and knocked instead.

“Come in,” Natalie called.

For a split second, I froze, wanting that soft voice to be for me, knowing she was probably expecting Sela. Then I told myself to snap out of it, to stop being a pussy, and I stepped into the room.

She was perched on the window seat that had become her favorite spot in the room—back against the wall, feet flat on the cushions with her knees drawn in and pointed toward the ceiling. She’d changed into a black tank and pink pajama bottoms, and her dark curly hair fell around her face as she turned my way. Her features were void of makeup, and her pretty blue eyes looked tired, but to me, she’d never been more beautiful. And in a rush of agony that gripped my chest and squeezed with the force of a boa constrictor, I knew that I was probably going to regret this decision for the rest of my life.

“I see you made it back okay,” I forced myself to say.

“Yes.”

There was no bite to her voice as there’d been earlier, and as her wary gaze skipped over me, I wasn’t sure how to read her demeanor. All I knew for certain was that she had to be as emotionally drained as I was, so the sooner we got this over with, the better.

Leaving the door open, I moved farther into the room, stopping at the dresser so I could lean back against the solid surface in the hope it would keep my legs from buckling. “Look, for the record, I wasn’t intentionally trying to lie to you today. I knew you wouldn’t go on a hike with me if I asked, so I let you believe what you wanted so I could get you out of this room. As for the ruins”—I scrubbed a hand through my dusty hair, my whole body sweaty and sticky and in need of a serious shower—“I had no ulterior motive there. I just thought you’d like to see them. And the story I told you about the burning tree wasn’t meant to deceive you. It was the story I was told when I first moved to the islands.”

She didn’t answer. Only pursed her lips and looked down at her hands resting in her lap. I didn’t know if I was relieved or not by that fact, I only knew I had to go on.

“I’m done trying to tell you what I think you want you to hear, Natalie.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “It obviously hasn’t done any good. So now it’s your turn. I know you have questions, and I know I haven’t given you the chance to ask them. I’m doing that now. Ask, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

Her head came up, and when her blue eyes met mine, I didn’t miss the disbelief and even more wariness in her gaze. “Anything?”

Shit. This was definitely going to fuck me over, but there was no backing out now. “Anything.”

I could literally see the wheels spinning in her head as she pondered which of the multitude of questions she wanted to start with. After several seconds of silence, she said, “Is Covet a front business your House uses for sex trafficking?”

“No.”

The way her jaw clenched and her gaze darted down to her hands told me she didn’t believe me. She’d obviously done her research on my House in the short time between when she’d run from me in Italy and I’d found her in Idaho. Some of the information she’d uncovered wasn’t true. A lot of it was. But on this, I was telling the truth.

“It’s a legitimate fashion magazine,” I said. “A large percentage of the women who model for the magazine never do anything more than pose for pictures.”

“And the rest?”

I didn’t want to lay the ugliness out there, but I wasn’t going to lie to her anymore. “Some are recruited by my House for what they call their beta program.”

“Beta program,” she repeated, telling me loud and clear that, yep, she’d done her research. “You mean their beta kitten program. How they create—what did you call it when you were explaining it to me in Tuscany? Sex kittens. What the rest of the world calls sex slaves.”

“It’s not entirely that simple.”

“Oh, there’s more than one way to be a sex slave? I had no idea.”

I frowned at her sarcasm. “The women are not kidnapped and repeatedly raped. It’s not like the sex-trafficking stories you read about in the media or see on TV.”

“No, they’re seduced, manipulated, then trained to disassociate themselves so they’ll do whatever deviant acts they’re ordered to do by any number of men. Like in that ritual I saw. Sounds like the same thing to me, Luc.”

Fuck, I hated this. “I will admit that there are instances where some of the betas have been abused by their trainers or handlers.” The no-shit glare she sent my way made me shift uncomfortably against the dresser. “But they’re not all treated like that. Most of the kittens I encountered were taken care of. They were compensated well for their time and services. The majority consciously agreed to participate in the parties or private events they were asked to join.”

“And that makes it okay?”

No, it didn’t make it okay. And I didn’t want to argue about it with her because, at the end of the day, she was right. Many of the women targeted by my House were chosen because they were naïve or naturally submissive or without family or friends who would miss them. They were lured into my world by expensive gifts and promises of money and fame. And once they agreed, they were often drugged in their training. Some were physically abused to swap pleasure for pain. I’d even heard of a few who were so mentally broken by what they’d endured that they could flip a switch and take on a completely different personality that allowed them to become the perfect sex kitten with zero inhibitions.

Disgust spread across Natalie’s features as she shook her head, telling me she knew exactly what I was thinking. “How could you work for that magazine knowing they were preying on innocent girls?”

Sickness swirled in my stomach, but it was punctuated by the reality that she was once again lumping me in with the vile men of my House. “I didn’t have a choice. I was forced to New York and ordered to take over operations at Covet. It doesn’t mean I liked it. It doesn’t mean I approved of what was happening there. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean I participated in recruiting any of those girls. I was trying to change things. I know you can’t understand this because you’ve only seen a glimpse of my world, but change in an organization as old as my family’s doesn’t happen overnight. I hate what Covet stands for and what happens to the models who are too naïve to say no to the temptations they’re offered. As soon as I learned I was being sent to New York, my plan was always to try to make a difference at Covet.”

“So what stopped you?”

My chest contracted as I looked at her across the room. “You stopped me. That day in my office when you interviewed for that stupid internship, I knew you were going to be trouble. I knew you were there looking into what happened to your friend, and I knew I had to get you out of there before you learned too much.”

She stared at me in the heavy silence with unreadable eyes, and as I waited for her to say something, I tried to figure out what she was thinking. Only I couldn’t. This woman had always been a mystery to me, right from the start. A mystery that made me feel alive, even now when part of me wanted to die.

“Is that what happened to my friend Elena? Did someone”—she hesitated—“coerce her into becoming a beta kitten?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure, or you won’t tell me?”

“I’m not sure.”

“But you have a guess.”

I nodded. When she only stared at me, I sighed and said, “I wasn’t in New York when she died, so I didn’t know her personally. I wasn’t called in until after the scandal of her death and the connection to Covet hit the media. From what I gathered, she was seeing my cousin Benito. You never met him, but he was at that party at my parents’ estate in Tuscany when we were there.”

Her brow wrinkled. “Dark hair? About your size? He was with an older man.”

“Yes.” My stomach pitched, knowing she remembered. “My uncle Sal.” I’d freaked when I’d seen her walking toward me as I’d been talking to my depraved uncle and cousin in the courtyard. I hadn’t wanted her anywhere near the two degenerates. Thankfully, they’d left the party, but it still haunted me knowing they’d seen Natalie’s face.

I crossed one foot over the other and tightened my arms across my chest. “Benito can be charming as hell, but he’s into some twisted shit. It’s possible he forged a connection with your friend Elena and that they were simply dating.”

“But?” she said when it was clear I didn’t want to go on.

“But,” I forced myself to say, “it’s also possible he seduced her with the intention of training her to be his kitten. Some men in my House”—I rubbed a hand over my damp brow, hating this admission—“some keep kittens as personal mistresses. Some of the men get off training them in various ways and coercing them to service others.”

“That’s sick.” Natalie pressed a hand to her stomach, and a nauseated look passed over her face. One I felt in my own gut. “And did she…” She swallowed hard. “Did Elena figure that out? Is that why she was killed?”

“I don’t know. It’s possible.” When she looked up at me, I quietly added, “It’s the closest I could come to an explanation.”

She closed her eyes, and the look of misery that spread across her face nearly gutted me.

“I don’t know for sure it was Benito,” I said, knowing it didn’t help but needing her to understand. “I thought he was the one responsible for her death, but then I learned my brother Giovanni had also been in New York at the same time and that he’d expressed interest in her as well. Gio can be charming in his own way, as you know. It could have been either of them. I didn’t have time to figure out which one killed her before you arrived at my office.”

She drew a deep breath and opened her eyes, looking at me once again with that fire that marked her as a survivor. With that fire that gave me strength even though I didn’t deserve it. “But you never told the police that.”

“No.”

“And you covered up the connection to Covet.”

“My uncle Sal did. After he had his heart attack, I was called in to finish what he’d started.”

It wasn’t an out-and-out lie. I had come in after the cover up was already under way. But if Natalie asked me if I’d ever been in Elena’s apartment before that night I’d taken her home after that party on Long Island, I’d have to fess up.

She looked down at her hands again, and I waited for the question. Waited for her to ask just how far I’d go for my House. But instead, she said, “Is that why you took me to Italy? Because you were afraid I was going to find out about Benito and Gio and turn them in?”

“No,” I said softly, wishing she’d look at me so she could see the truth in my eyes. “I took you to Italy because the second I saw you with Gio the night of that party on Long Island, I knew he’d set his sights on you. I had to get you out of there before what happened to your friend happened to you.”

She twisted her hands in her lap. “And that’s the only reason?”

“No.” I watched her carefully, knowing I was stepping out on a rickety limb but unable to hold myself back. “I also took you to Italy because I was fascinated by you. From the first moment we met, I saw you were different. You have a fire inside you that makes you strong—stronger than most.”

She didn’t show any reaction—just continued to stare at her hands—and I didn’t know if that was the answer she’d wanted or not. But it was the truth. I’d been awed by her spirit and determination and her loyalty to her friend. And I’d been fascinated by the way she’d challenged me in that interview. Fascinated and intrigued and completely obsessed.

“So what happened between us in Italy wasn’t planned by your House to keep me from finding the truth about Elen—”

“No.” I hated that she even thought such a thing. And I felt like an ass for not realizing that had been going through her mind this last week. “What happened between you and me had absolutely nothing to do with my House or my family or your friend. I promise you that.”

Her eyes fell closed. But I couldn’t tell if that was because she was relieved or even more miserable.

Please be relieved...

“Did you…” She swallowed again but kept her eyes shut tight and her hands folded in her lap. “Did you participate in that ritual in Tuscany?”

“No.” Anguish clawed up my chest and tightened my throat, because this time, I did see misery in her tense features. So much misery, I should have realized she’d been tormenting herself with this question too. I’d been so concerned with keeping her safe and giving her time to adjust to our new normal that I hadn’t stopped to think about the emotional turmoil she was experiencing.

My arms ached to hold her. My body tightened with the need to comfort her. But I knew better than to try. And I knew now that she’d mentioned the ritual, if the conversation went in the direction I expected, in a few minutes, she’d never want me to touch her again.

I steeled myself for that moment. Told myself I was doing the right thing. Shut down my emotions and went numb like I’d done long ago. “I stopped participating in their so-called rituals when I was twenty. They can make me attend their gatherings when I’m home. They can make me watch. But they can’t force me to join them, and they know that.”

Her eyes drifted open, and when those blue gems looked my way, they were wet with emotion and filled with all the questions I didn’t want to answer but knew I could no longer avoid.

“So you have participated.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement, so I didn’t answer. But, God, I hated what she was imagining as she looked at me with those very focused eyes that had always been able to see right to the heart of me.

“What happened when you were twenty, Luc? You told me you left home for good then, but you never said why.”

And there it was.

I expected to feel sucker punched. I expected my knees to buckle. Neither happened. I’d gotten good at not feeling anything over the years, and that skill was clearly still available to me when I wanted it. But I had a hunch that skill was going to fail me rather soon. I might be able to get through the confession. I might be able to act like I didn’t give a shit. But Natalie knew the real me I never let anyone else see, and watching the light in her eyes die when she learned the truth was going to gut me right to the core.

I glanced away from her for the first time since coming into the room, choosing to focus on the toe of my dirty boot so I could get through this unscathed.

Like a bandage—rip it off.

“You have to understand that everything you see, everything that happens is carefully orchestrated. I’m not just talking about my House. I’m talking about the world. Countries, governments, they mean nothing. Our modern society is controlled by a select group of families who individually are each worth more than all the other people in the world combined. Money is power, and the ones who have the most money have the power to create and manipulate every economy, every government, each and every military on the planet.”

No surprise crossed her face, telling me she’d already uncovered a lot of this, but I forced myself to go on because what I told her about the Houses now would be important later in my story. “Originally, there were thirteen main families, or Houses, all linked to royalty in ancient Rome. When the Holy Roman Empire fell, the thirteen families decided to band together and use their power for greater things. They signed the Treaty of Entente in Venice, and for over a thousand years, they’ve been the masterminds directing everything from wars to famines to economic recessions, even industrialization. They control each major superpower, they can manipulate every religious leader, and they do it all because they are in charge of every single banking institution in the world.”

She was silent for several seconds, then said, “Thirteen? I thought there were only five.”

She had done her research. Part of me was relieved by that fact. Another part was sickened because I knew if she wasn’t scared after reading that research, it meant I was going to have to tell her everything so she would finally understand just how much danger she was really in.

“You’re right. Now there are only five. Over time, many of the Houses intermarried. Today, the five Houses that remain are in Italy, France, Spain, Germany, and England, and they’re not as friendly as they used to be. Each house is constantly wrestling for ultimate control. Each one is afraid another will eventually take them out. Even amongst themselves, they can’t be content sharing power.”

“Five families in Europe can’t manipulate everything. What about the United States?”

“Already controlled by the Entente. What was the US before it declared independence? Part of England. As far as the Entente Houses are concerned, the United States is still a territory of the English House, and your president answers to the head of House Merrick.”

I could tell from the look in her eyes she was still skeptical, so I said, “Everything can be traced back to when countries were discovered, who discovered them, and which Houses were in control at that time. Even places like the Middle East and Russia, whose monarchies were already established, are easily manipulated. Control the major superpowers on the planet and everything you manipulate within their economies eventually trickles down to the less-developed countries. Why do you think humanity as a whole is still so dependent on oil in the twenty-first century? Because the Entente wants it that way. There are researchers out there who have developed cleaner, cheaper forms of energy, but the Entente controls those governments and can easily suppress that technology. They also control the governments with the biggest oil reserves. Control the energy reserves, and you control the world’s ability to progress.”

She was silent for a moment, then said, “Assuming what you’re saying is true, how does all this relate to why you left Italy?”

This was the moment where everything changed. Though I wanted to rush right out of the room, I forced myself to stand still. “I told you before that nothing is as it seems. The rituals and parties are the same. They might look like orgies, but they’re really carefully orchestrated gatherings designed to intimidate and manipulate. There are still many world leaders who aren’t completely influenced by money. Some claim they have a conscience, others simply don’t want to give up their own miniscule power. Blackmail does the trick every time, though. Whenever a sex party is scheduled by my House, it’s because they’re actively targeting some government official or religious leader who doesn’t know about the Entente. They lure them in with the promise of sinful pleasure, record what’s happening, then they blackmail them after. There have been enough people over the years who have called the Entente’s bluff and been destroyed in the aftermath that now no one even questions the threat. Every single time, they get what they want.”

“Why not just kill those leaders who won’t go along with what they want? If these Houses are as powerful as you say, why don’t they just replace those leaders with their own people?”

“Because that would be noticed by the masses. What you have to understand is that the Entente might have the money, but it doesn’t have the numbers. If the people knew how the world was really run, they’d rise up against the Entente. The point of controlling from the shadows is that no one knows it’s being done. And they do it pretty damn well. The people are blind to the truth. The ugly reality is hiding in plain sight, but they refuse to see it.”

Disgust pulled at her lips. “There have to be some people who know.”

“There are. The ones smart enough to figure it all out are labeled conspiracy theorists and nuts. That’s usually enough to get them blackballed in society. The ones who have actual proof the Entente exists? Those are the ones who are assassinated.”

She stared at me for several beats, then looked back down at her hands. And in the silence, I knew she still didn’t completely believe me or understand what kind of danger she was really in.

Fuck. It was now or never.

I drew a deep breath. “As the oldest and the heir to the Salvatici House, I was indoctrinated by my father to the ways of our family early on. I was thirteen the first time he took me to an event like the one you saw in the woods in Tuscany. At thirteen, I didn’t know anything about the way the world worked or my House’s involvement. All I knew that night was that there were naked girls in the middle of the woods. The men in my family called them kittens. I didn’t understand what that meant, but when one of them came toward me and everyone encouraged me to touch her, yes, I participated. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but she was eager and willing, and when it was over, I wanted to do it again. I couldn’t wait for the next gathering to start.”

Silence met my ears, so I kept going. “I told you the gatherings are orchestrated. They don’t happen regularly, only when needed. Sometimes they’re not rituals but parties, like the one you saw with Gio on Long Island. It really depends on the depravity of the person being targeted as to which type of event is staged. I went to several when I was a teenager. Encouraged by my father and the men in our family, I participated in all of them. In some sick way, I thought it was a rite of passage, that it was part of becoming a man. It wasn’t until I went off to Oxford that I realized the rest of the world doesn’t agree.”

Natalie sat quietly on the window seat, and, unable to meet her eyes for fear of what I’d see when I did, I forced myself to keep talking. “My father directed me to attend the House Merrick parties in England while I was off at school, to create goodwill with the English House and to hopefully ease some of the tension between their House and ours. It was at one of these parties—in one of the tame, presentable gathering rooms where some wives and daughters are permitted—that I met a woman named Felicity. Her father, like mine, was head of his House. Our meeting was prearranged. Intermarriage between Houses is often encouraged. It forms alliances that come in handy during conflicts. Felicity knew that was why we were being set up, but unlike me, she also knew what her family was really all about, whereas I’d been in the dark most of my life. I stupidly thought my father was a winemaker, and that his empire was built on that alone.”

I was probably giving her too much detail, but I didn’t care. I wanted her to understand. I cleared my throat. “What my father didn’t plan for was that Felicity would educated me about the Entente, about our Houses, about their clandestine enterprises, and about the purpose of their parties. I didn’t want to believe her at first, but I instinctively knew there was more beneath the surface than my father had told me. I avoided going home that first year and took a job in London over the summer. To keep the peace with my father, I went to the House Merrick parties and made sure I was seen at those parties, but I began to lose my interest in attending. Something about them felt…forced. It wasn’t as exciting to me anymore.”

I didn’t tell her I still took part in the debauched revelries that went on behind closed doors. I didn’t tell her I fucked dozens of kittens because they were ready and willing and begging to be fucked. But I knew from her silence she didn’t need me to say the words. She already knew the truth.

“By the time I was twenty,” I said, forcing myself to finish what I’d started, “I could no longer ignore my father’s orders for a visit home. So I went, hoping that everything Felicity had told me would wind up being a lie. It wasn’t. I overheard my father discussing a shipping problem up the coastline with his brother—not of wine but of heroin, imported through Italy and our connections, and headed north into Europe. Italy is important to the Entente because it’s the main gateway between Africa, the Middle East, and Europe, and the drug trade is just one more thing the Entente controls to manipulate the masses. Keep the people dependent on drugs, and they won’t look too closely at what’s going on behind the scenes. It was the first time I realized just what kind of business actually funded our life. I wanted to have no part of it. I planned to leave for London and go back to my university that night, but my father wouldn’t let me go. He found me in the courtyard and told me there was a ritual being held that night to honor me home, and that I was required to attend. I knew it was a lie. I knew there was some other reason for the gathering, but I didn’t want to know more. I just wanted to go back to school. So I kept my mouth shut and I went.”

Images flashed in my brain—the torchlight, the flat slab of rock, the circle of men in black capes and white bauta masks, chanting. And the girl. Barely eighteen. Slim, gorgeous, with blonde hair down to the middle of her naked back as she was paraded into the circle and helped up on the altar.

She’d done all the right things, made all the right sounds as she’d lain back on the rock altar and three masked men had begun pleasuring her. And at twenty, even though I hadn’t wanted to be there, my dick had been hard and biology had taken over as I’d watched the scene unfold. I’d wanted to hear her scream when I penetrated her. I’d wanted to fuck her hard and deep. I’d wanted everyone in that circle to see her body shake when I made her come.

I stared at a spot on my boot because I knew right here was the point at which Natalie was going to hate me forever, but I couldn’t stop that from happening anymore, so I just had to get it done. “Since the ritual was held in my honor, I was the first. The girl was young and beautiful, and I told myself that she was there like all the others—because she wanted to be there. But halfway through, I looked into her eyes and saw that she was high. Not so much she didn’t know what was happening, but…enough to make me realize she wasn’t excited by it like all the men around her. She was just trying to get through it.”

The feelings—the guilt—that went with that memory tried to take hold, but I forced them back, focusing on the words instead of what they meant. “I couldn’t go on. I pretended to finish and pulled my cape around me as I retreated into the darkness. But I couldn’t watch as the ritual continued and the others used her. I couldn’t leave, though, either. I needed to know if I’d imagined what I’d seen in her eyes because of what Felicity had told me, or if it had really been there. So I waited until it was over, said my goodbyes to everyone, then pretended to leave. But I didn’t really. I lurked in the darkness and watched what they did with her. And when they dressed her and put her in a dark sedan, I followed.

“Two men took her to an apartment in Florence—not a great one, but not a total dive either. I waited in the shadows on the street and watched the windows to see which room they took her to. They didn’t stay with her long, and after the lights went dark and they reemerged on the street, got in their car, and drove off, I used the fire escape to climb up to her balcony.

“I went in through a window she’d left cracked. It was dark. I couldn’t see much more than her shape, lying still on her side on the bed. I didn’t know what they’d done to her, but I was relieved when I found her pulse strong and that she was just asleep. But I still needed answers. So I woke her.

“She was groggy. Worse than she’d been during the ritual, and I knew they’d given her something more after it was all over. I also knew from the way she looked at me that some part of her remembered me, only she couldn’t figure out how. I didn’t know what to do, so I sat on the bed next to her and asked her questions. Her name was Vittoria. Most of her words were slurred, but I learned she was a student in Florence. She was from a tiny town in the country. She wanted to be a model. And she’d had an interview with a photographer from Covet just that afternoon. She was waiting to find out if she’d gotten the job.

“I knew right then that she’d been coerced into that ritual, and that every man there had taken advantage of her. Me included. I also knew if I didn’t do something to help her, they’d do it to her again. So I found her passport in a drawer. I wrapped her in a blanket, and I took her down to my car. She drifted in and out of consciousness as I drove. I didn’t have a plan where I was going—just somewhere far away—and I didn’t stop until we crossed well into Switzerland.

“I was exhausted and couldn’t keep driving, so I found a hotel on the outskirts of Bern, checked us in, and took her up to a room. She barely made a sound as I tucked her under the covers on the bed, which I was thankful for because I didn’t know what I was going to say to her or how I was going to explain everything when she awoke. London seemed like the logical place to take her, but I was too tired to think about the details then. I fell asleep on the couch while she slept on the bed. I thought the danger was behind us because we were out of Italy, but I was wrong, just as I’d been wrong about everything else with regard to my family.”

Memories of what came next made my stomach clench in a way I couldn’t stop. “A noise woke me. At the time, I didn’t realize what it was, but when I opened my eyes and discovered she was gone, I knew it had been the door slamming. She’d come out of her drugged haze sometime in the night, awoken to find a strange man with her in a strange hotel room, and she’d run. I rushed to the balcony to see which way she’d headed and spotted her crossing the street. I went after her, but she heard me chasing her and darted down an alley. When I finally caught up with her, they already had her, two men I’d never met but with tattoos on their hands I recognized. A triskele between their thumb and first fingers, the signet of House Diedrich in Germany. One had her by the throat. The other held a gun pointed at me. There was a third I didn’t see. Before I could do anything to help her, he stabbed a needle into my neck and injected me with some kind of drug that made me black out.”

My stomach twisted tight, and I paused because a whole host of emotions pummeled me from every side. Even though I tried to fight them back, they were already worming their way through the cracks in my armor, and I knew I had to hurry the story along, to get it over with before those cracks split me into a million pieces.

“I woke to the sounds of her screams. I knew immediately we weren’t in Switzerland anymore. I recognized the stone walls and slate floor. It was an outbuilding on my father’s estate, one you didn’t visit when you were there, and one I wouldn’t have let you near. They…”

My voice wavered, and I cleared my throat to hide it, adjusted my feet, and stared down at the carpet in the hopes it would keep me focused on something solid and not the memories threatening to pull me in. “The three who captured us were taking turns raping her. I…I tried to help her, but I was chained to a chair, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get to her. They acted like I wasn’t even there, no matter how I struggled or screamed for them to stop or begged or threatened. And then I heard my father’s voice.

“He was behind me somewhere, watching it all. In my ear, he said this was my fault. That I’d sentenced her to this by thinking she was good for anything other than being a fucktoy. I knew then that what they were doing to her wasn’t about her. It was about me. It was my punishment for going against my House and trying to save her. I thought if I promised my father it wouldn’t happen again, they’d let her go. I thought if I shut my mouth and stayed quiet, they’d finish and she’d be okay. I was wrong. Before I even realized what was happening, one of the three pulled a knife and sliced her throat open.”

My chest contracted at the memory, and tears I hadn’t shed in years burned my eyes. I blinked rapidly to force them back, swiping a hand over my face so Natalie couldn’t see. I’d gotten through the worst part. I was almost done. I had to finish.

I had to tell her the rest.

I had to make her understand.

I cleared my throat again. “When it was over, when the three men had left, my father made me look at her lying still on the mattress in a pool of blood. And then he told me that the next time I chose to risk everything for a woman, it had best be one from the right bloodline and the right House, and that if she wasn’t, she’d end up exactly like Vittoria.”

Natalie didn’t respond. The room was utterly silent but for the roar of blood in my ears. I didn’t dare look at her. I couldn’t bear to see the revulsion in her eyes. I couldn’t face that even though I knew I deserved it.

I drew one last breath so I could get it all out. “My father unchained me. He told me they had me on video fucking her in the woods. That my fingerprints were already on the knife used to murder her. If I went to the police, if I alerted anyone to what had gone down that night, I’d take the blame for her death. The fact he had the support of House Dietrich told me I couldn’t even trust another House to back me, and that any alliance I’d formed with Felicity could get her killed as well. It also told me that gathering in the woods had been designed to blackmail me. So I’d fall in line with what my father wanted and never again question anything my House did.”

I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck, desperate now just to tell her the rest. “My father then told me to get my head in the right place and that we’d talk later. He left me there with her, and as I stared at what they’d done to her, I vowed then and there never to participate in any of their sick rituals again. I left Italy that night with only the money in my wallet. I didn’t go back to England. I didn’t talk to my mother or my siblings about what had happened. I walked away from my family and everything they stood for, and I didn’t look back. I knew they’d find me—I knew they could find me wherever I went—but I didn’t care.

“I finally heard from my mother about six months later. I was in Australia at the time, working for a shipbuilder, when I got a letter from her. I’m not sure how she tracked me down, but I called her back as she instructed, knowing I couldn’t stay silent. She told me she didn’t know what had happened between me and my father, but claimed he felt bad over it. I didn’t believe her. I also suspected she knew more than she was letting on and that she’d taken my father’s side. She asked me to come home. I said no. When she realized I wasn’t going to budge, she said that my father had agreed to let me take some time to deal with my issues, but that eventually, I’d have to return and take my place with the family. I didn’t answer her. I didn’t have an answer for her.

“They left me alone for about six years, then bit by bit forced me back into the family. They knew I’d started a business in Tahiti, and they sent a man to my warehouse to make that known to me. I’ve kept this island secret. It’s not on any maps or on any bills of sale. It’s also not in my name, so for now, it’s hidden. But I realized when that guy showed up that if I wanted it to continue to be hidden, I couldn’t go on ignoring them. And if I wanted to live, I couldn’t pretend they didn’t exist. That might sound selfish to you, but my life was the only thing I had left. So I did as little as possible. I went back to Italy now and then and made public appearances at Salvatici events so my name was once more associated with our House. Every time the winery expanded, I showed up at the festivities like the heir everyone expects me to be. I even showed up at Covet events during fashion weeks in Rome and Milan and Paris and let myself be photographed by the press just to keep my father off my back. But I avoided going home, and I never again attended any of my House’s depraved parties or rituals. That masquerade on Long Island was the first I’d been to in twelve years. And the gathering in the woods that night in Tuscany… The only reason I went to that was because I was afraid if I didn’t, they’d go after you.”

What came next was the most important thing I had to say, so I lifted my head, intending to look her in the eyes when I said it, but the best I could force myself to do was gaze at the dark window above her. “You have every reason to hate me. I hate myself for getting you wrapped up in all this. I shouldn’t have touched you in Italy. I should have stuck with my original plan and been such an ass, you couldn’t wait to run home to Idaho, but I didn’t. And when I realized you’d fled my parents’ estate, I knew I had to do whatever it took to make sure what happened to Vittoria never happened to you. So, yeah, I followed you. I drugged you so you wouldn’t make a scene they could find. I brought you to the South Pacific when you were unconscious, because I knew you’d never go anywhere willingly with me after what you’d seen. And I arranged for us to be married when you were barely lucid, because spouses in the Entente are protected against execution. Then I brought you to this island, where we’d be hidden for a while and where you couldn’t escape, so you’d have time to adjust to our new situation. And I did that because—and this part is important—spouses are only protected so long as they’re willing participants in the marriage. None of it was right, and all of it was wrong, but I’d make each and every choice exactly the same again without hesitation to keep you safe, because that’s all that matters to me now. Making sure no one ever hurts you again is my only focus.”

The last of my words echoed in the room like a doomed drumbeat. She didn’t respond, didn’t ask any questions, didn’t even look up at me. And as silence stretched between us like a vast ocean, the carefully constructed walls I’d built to protect myself started to crumble.

A rush of sickness flooded my belly and sent bile surging up my esophagus. I deserved disgust from her. I deserved way worse. Dropping my head, I rubbed my aching forehead, knowing if I didn’t get out of here soon, I was going to break in front of her. And that was something I couldn’t let her see, because more than anything, I needed to keep up the façade that I was strong and in total control so that she would believe I could keep her safe.

“So that’s it. That’s…everything. Who my House is, why I left Italy, the reason I hate my family, and why I did every single thing I’ve done since the moment I met you.”

When she still didn’t say a word, I pushed away from the dresser. “I’m sure you still have questions, but it’s late, and I think we’re both beat from today. I’ll check in with you tomorrow. If you have more questions then, I’ll answer them.”

She didn’t try to stop me, and somehow, I made it back to my room without collapsing. I tried to think about nothing as I moved. It was the only way I’d survived in the days and weeks after I’d left Italy. Thinking about the things I’d done and couldn’t change had the potential to send me into a dark, downward spiral that could take weeks—no, months—to pull myself out of. I didn’t have that kind of time now. I couldn’t give in to the haunting memories and self-deprecating disgust if I had any hope of keeping Natalie safe.

I didn’t bother with the lights, just moved through my bedroom into the master bath, peeled off my dusty clothes, and dropped them on the travertine floor. Leaning into the massive shower, I flipped on multiple showerheads—four on one side and three on the other—and didn’t bother to wait for the spray to heat. Ice-cold water stabbed at my skin like tiny knives striking from every direction, making me suck in a harsh breath, but as the water slowly warmed and steam rose around my head, I wished I’d left it cold. Wished I’d kept my mouth shut tonight. Wished I’d never looked twice at Natalie James.

Sickness swirled in my belly and rushed up my chest. A familiar sickness that told me if I didn’t shut this shit down right now, I wasn’t going to be able to in a few minutes. Leaning forward, I braced both hands on the tile wall and dropped my head. Water hit my belly, my back, doused my hair from the showerhead above. I closed my eyes and focused on that black, empty nothingness. Breathed in and out slowly through my nose to keep the sickness at bay. Listened to the rapid beat of my heart, the rush of water striking the tiles, the ebb and flow of air as it filled my lungs and left on a gentle whoosh.

My skin prickled. Tormented memories tried to push through my defenses. I knew better than to break my focus, but I couldn’t stop my head from lifting. Couldn’t keep my eyes from opening under the rush of water flowing over my face.

Pushing away from the wall, I swiped a hand over my hair to brush the water off my forehead as I stepped out from under the main showerhead and turned. Then froze when I spotted Natalie standing in my darkened bathroom, watching me from the shadows.

For a moment, everything came to a screeching halt. I didn’t hear the shower anymore. Didn’t feel the water striking my flesh. Wasn’t sure I even breathed.

All I saw was her, standing regally in the shadows, watching me with an unreadable expression. This amazing, incredible woman who made angry look beautiful and weak look invincible and who, even now, even after all the ugly things she’d said and heard and witnessed, was the most angelic thing I’d ever seen.

My angioletto. The only person in the world who had the power to once and truly break me. And who I was pretty sure would before all was said and done.