Page 105

I elbow the light on and swing the door closed behind us. The room we step into is small and drafty. In the center is a set of brick stairs that lead to the top of the lighthouse. No one ever goes up there because there’s no reason to. It’s the rooms on this level that matter. There are several of them, and I go to the one directly to the right of us.
When the door swings open and I step inside, I set Savina on her feet. I hate that her feet are only covered in stockings, but her heels were her only other option, and those will never touch her feet again.
“Why are we here?” she asks, her voice laced with confusion and a hint of fear.
The room is dark, which is the reason she asked. She hasn’t yet seen what’s inside the room. There’s a rustling sound, and I choose that moment to flip on the light. My Vicious sucks in abreath when she gets her first view of what’s across the room. Or rather, who.
“Who is that?”
“Joseph Brooks.”
Confusion lines her face. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”
The tendons in my jaw tighten when I enlighten her. “He’s the man who stole you from your bed and delivered you to Henry.”
She sucks in a sharp breath and her eyes dart back to the man strapped down on a low table. He’s naked except for a pair of dingy boxers. Several leather straps hold him down on the table, including one across his neck. There’s a ball gag in his mouth that’s stretching his lips open wide. He’s dirty since he hasn’t bathed in a year, and he smells like old rotten fish, but there’s not a mark on him.
“He’s been in my basement for a year,” I inform her, and her head jerks around, her shocked gaze meeting mine. “I wanted to kill him a thousand different times and in a thousand different ways, but I kept him for you.”
Her lips are pressed into a firm line, and there’s no mistaking the anger lighting her eyes. This man tormented her by stealing her from her bed and delivered her to a madman, and as far as she believes, then later sent her threatening letters to torture her some more.
“Are you the reason he stopped sending those notes and pictures?”
“He didn’t send those letters. I did.”
The color leeches from her cheeks, and she takes a step back from me. “Y-you sent those letters?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed a reason for your father to hire a bodyguard.”
“But you said you weren’t behind the attack.”
The muscles in my right eye twitch. “I wasn’t. That attack was random, and the person behind it has long since been dealt with.” He’s actually one of my first victims in regard to Savina.
She grabs a chunk of her dress, lifting it a few inches so she can fully face me. The color has returned to her face, and her eyes narrow. “Do you have any fucking clue what those letters did to me? How terrified I was. I wouldn’t leave my house for a week after that first letter.”
Her eyes slide closed, and it’s like her body is too weak to hold itself up anymore. Her shoulders slump, and her head falls forward.
I go to her, wrapping my arms around her middle. She stiffens against me, but doesn’t pull away.
“Baby.”
She peels her eyes open and looks up at me. Fire burns in their dark depths, anger at me for orchestrating those letters. I don’t blame her for feeling the way she does. I’d hate me too if I were in her shoes. I fabricated a situation without regard to her well-being. It wasn’t my finest idea, but it still led us to where we are today, so I can’t force myself to regret it.
It’s what’s behind that anger that brings forth my own rage. Lingering fear. Not from the letters I sent, but what was done to her in that basement.
“You will never feel that kind of fear again. I’d destroy the fucking world for you and every single person in it. I am your wrath and the protective steel wall that surrounds you.”
I’ll eradicate every fucking threat, no matter how big or small, before it has a chance to come near her.
She pulls in a shaky breath and gives Joseph a brief glance over her shoulder. “Why keep him alive this long?”
“He’s my wedding present to you.”
“And what am I supposed to do with him?”