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August 23 - August 31, 2025
His entire body is covered in scars. Not just his wrists, but his everything. His chest is littered with bruises in various stages of healing. I swallow when my eyes land on the marred skin where his heart is.
“Elena,” I say as I knock on the glass. It earns me no reaction. I lie with my masked cheek flat against the floor to try and get level with her eyes and line myself up with her blank stare. I put my hand against the glass. “Angel, come on, look up.” I pound my fist against the glass. “Elena look at me!” I shout, and her eyes finally snap to me. Her face twists into a look so full of hopelessness that it makes my own chest feel like it’s being ripped open. Big tears fall out of her eyes as she reaches for the glass, the very edges of her fingertips grazing the barrier between us. I shake my
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Valenti bends down and begins to unbutton his pants. I bang on the glass with my fist, over and over again. I reload my pistol and shoot it. Throw a chair at it. Pull an emergency axe off the wall and began beating at the stupid glass that won’t fucking break. It won’t break and Elena’s in there with him, her hips lifted into the air as he fucking rapes her in front of me.
He’s completely naked, exposing his mutilated body to the elements and the world. I removed his dick. It’s shoved into his asshole. That was the first thing I did to him. Everything that followed was more sickening than the previous. There’s a big gash along his belly where I sliced him open, his insides dangling out of him. I wanted to tie a noose around his neck by his own entrails, but I didn’t think it would hold, so I just used a rope. He’s still got that tape around his mouth. I take a sick pleasure in claiming my kills like that, especially this one.
She’s crying for me. I hear her shouting my name over and over and over again. My heart begins to beat erratically against my ribcage as I harshly bodycheck my way through the crowd of staff members, breaking through the sea of people, only to have my heart shatter when I get a glimpse at her.
“Neil is already dead,” Christian interjects, pulling my dad’s attention to him, as well as my mother’s. Christian’s gaze flickers to me and then back to my dad. He takes the TV remote from the table next to me and flicks it onto a local news channel. It’s an interview from a police officer. In the background, the Hellfire Lounge can be seen engulfed in flames. On the ground behind him, Neil’s body is covered in a white sheet. The police officer describes the scene using words like ‘brutal’ and ‘inhumane’ and ‘the most disturbing thing he’s seen on the job’.
Bethany is sitting up front with me, and Elena’s in the back with her father. She hasn’t said a word to me and won’t even spare a look in my direction. Bethany, however, is bouncing in her seat as we cruise down the driveway. She makes small gasps of awe as she takes it all in.
Elena made me taste happiness. Loving her was a drug I got addicted to after a single hit, and if I thought I’ve ever known what it was like to feel empty before, I was so wrong. This is what it feels like to be empty. To see my future so clearly and then watch it crumble. She saved my life, but I’ve ruined hers.
“Fuck.” I look like shit. It’s been three days and I look like I’ve lost ten pounds. I guess that’s not surprising considering I’ve put nothing in my body except black coffee and a bottle of water. My eyes are sunken into their sockets and my cheeks are hollow. Shaking my head at how pathetic I am, I roll up the left sleeve of my hoodie and hold my arm over the sink. Flipping open the knife, I take a deep breath and run the sharp edge along my wrist, slowly, forcing myself to feel every millimeter of the cut.
I don’t think I’ve ever been in so much pain. I want to be there when you leave, to say goodbye and tell you I’m sorry and beg you to stay. But I’m weak, so instead, I’m writing this letter and committing your sleeping face to memory. I couldn’t bear it if the last memory I had of you was the way you look at me now, after discovering the kind of monster I am. You look disappointed. Scared. Angry. But you’re angelic when you sleep. The perfect embodiment of the endearing nickname I’ve given you. I wish I wasn’t the root cause of the burdens you bear.
I never believed in love at first sight. I never believed in soulmates. I made peace with the idea of being alone, and I had even made peace with death. And then I met you. I remember looking into your scared, tear-filled, honey-brown eyes the night we met and feeling an ache in my chest I had never felt before. I didn’t immediately realize it, but that ache was my soul latching on to yours, intertwining itself so deeply that no force on heaven or Earth could ever truly separate us again.
That ache was my heart’s way of telling me that you would be the first and only woman I would ever love. You became my guardian angel. I will never let that sentiment go. If I wasn’t meant to love you, then fate would have let me pull that...
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My heart has been yours ever since. I don’t just mean my love. I mean the actual, functional, beating heart in my chest is yours. You’re taking it with you when you leave, and I’ll be nothing more than an empty shell with a gaping ...
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I know it’s not healthy, and it sure as hell isn’t fair to put this kind of pressure on you—to make you the essential anchor of my mortal life. To make you the tethe...
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I made you a goddess, Elena, and I worship you. You are my religion and my whole life is dedicated to loving you. That’s what the most loyal disciples do, right? Dedicate their lives to their divine savior. If you never find it in your heart to trust me again—if you never believe another word I say—believe that I love you. My love isn’t perfect, and it isn’...
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I would do anything for you. If you ask me to move the sun out of your eyes, I will push it with my bare hands. If you ask me for the moon, I will wrap it in a purple ribbon and hand it to you. If you ask me for all the stars in the sky, I will create an entire galaxy, just for you.
“Listen to me,” I plead. “I love you. I will love you forever. Even when we’re nothing but bones in the ground, I will find you in the afterlife and cherish you like I always have. I will hold you and kiss you and fall asleep with you wrapped in my arms. I will spoil you and give you a wedding ring with my last name to match. I will buy you yachts and islands and mansions all over the world so you can feel safe. I will do all of this even if you fight me because you know better than anyone that boundaries have never stopped me. One day, only when you’re ready, I will fill you with my love
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A short while later, we pull into the driveway of the estate. Elena lets herself into the front door without waiting for me. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. She doesn’t like me right now. In fact, I’m probably one of her least favorite people on the planet.
With that, he turns on the bike and revs the engine a few times before slowly pulling out of the garage. It is a painstakingly slow pace. He drives in steady circles in the driveway until I get used to it, and then I experimentally wrap my arms around him. The solid feel of his muscles flexing under my touch sends a comforting sense of security through me. With me now less likely to fall off the bike, Christian drives a bit faster, testing my comfort level.
Christian asked me why I was crying the morning I got my period. When I told him, he hugged me, and I felt him try to hide his tears from me as he silently sobbed into my neck. I didn’t realize it would be such a relief for him, too.
An unknown amount of time passes before Christian steps back into the bathroom, in one hand, fuzzy socks, a pair of panties, and my favorite sleep shorts. Thrown over his shoulder, one of his sweaters. I know it’s his because it’s way bigger than I am, and it’s a deep, ruby red. I have no such color in my entire wardrobe. He places the clothes on the counter and lets me get dressed alone. When I pull the sweater over my head, the familiar scent of him warms not only the chill in my bones, but the emptiness in my soul.
As much as I hate to think about Edwin dying, he’s fucking old. He’s eighty-seven and has about eight hundred different health issues. Just about the only thing he can do is take a lap around the mansion once a day for exercise. He uses a walker, and it takes him about half a century to get from his bed to his bedroom door, but the last time I tried to get him a wheelchair he threw his dentures at me. Took them right out of his mouth and hit me in the forehead with them.
Edwin nods, languidly pointing in the direction of the newspaper on his bedside table. I point at it for confirmation, and he nods again. I hand it to him, and he rolls it up into a tight tube and then hits me over the head with it before laughing like an old prospector.
Her shaky hands unhook the bralette from the back, and she pauses for a long time before letting it fall to the floor. Her arms fall slack at her side, and she watches me intently, like she’s waiting for me to become predatory at the sight of her body. But I don’t. She’s a beautiful woman and I love her body, but this isn’t about me and my desires. This is about making her feel wanted.
I’m sitting outside for an hour and on my fourth cigarette when I hear the door open behind me. I turn to look. Elliot walks out with a strange combination of things in his hands. Two glasses of scotch. A pistol. A manila file folder. He sets it all down on the small table between us and slumps into the other rocker. Then he hands me one of the glasses.
I take a deep breath, sagging my shoulders. This entire situation is so fucked. Not only did I just find out that murder runs in my veins, but the man who killed my parents is the father of the love of my fucking life.
I know one thing is certain: if my father hadn’t killed Diana, then Elliot would have never met Bethany, and then I would have never met Elena. And honestly? I think that would be more tragic.
“Give me time. I’m not going anywhere. Let our love be simple and let it be complicated too. Let me see all of you, the parts of you that you keep hidden under your scars. Make me fall even more deeply in love with all the dark parts of you. The parts you think are unlovable. Then one day, ask me properly, and I’ll say yes.” I gently tug the ring off my finger and hold it up for him to take.
“A man like Christian Reeves will get tired of you eventually. When you stop giving him what he wants.” Seething, I grab my father’s scotch glass, throw the amber liquid into his face, and then slam it back down to the table so hard it cracks. Hot, angry, embarrassed tears fall out of my eyes and soak the collar of my shirt. “Funny. That sounds like the same thing Neil Hayden said before he raped me,” I croak out, and then I turn, pushing past everyone else and running out the front door.
She really is the embodiment of simple elegance. She doesn’t turn heads because she’s beautiful, she turns heads because she’s regal and sophisticated. She’s the exact opposite of me. The real me, at least. I can put on a suit and fake the charm all day long. But take off the suit and strip away the smile, and what’s left?
“It’s an illusion,” he whispers against my quivering lips. Then, he moves his finger over mine on the trigger of the gun, and he makes me pull it. I shriek in fear and shock, but he’s still staring at me, his artificial green eyes sparkling with adoration and pride. The gun wasn’t loaded. He knew that. He let me believe I had the power, and it’s liberating.
This is the man I fell in love with. The man who takes what he wants. The man who doesn’t respect my boundaries because he knows them better than I do. The man who pushes me because he knows my strengths even more intimately than he knows how to exploit my weaknesses. The man who would burn the world for me without so much as a second thought if I asked him to. His love and his devotion have corrupted me.
“Nothing. You just admitted I wear the pants in this relationship, is all.” He spins me in a circle and then pulls me tight to his chest. “It sounds nice, you know. My name with your last name.” His fingers trace down my body to rest on my waist. His large hands feel massive against my small frame.
Elena and I sneak back into the reception hall after our rendezvous in the groom’s suite. She’s so fucking proud of herself and I’m over here feeling like a damn teenager that just saw a pair of tits for the first time. My boxers are sticky with my cum, despite my attempts to clean up in the bathroom as Elena fixed her smeared makeup.
I lean my back against the stone wall of the venue and sink down to the floor, taking deep breaths to try and calm myself down. Goddamn it. Elliot is clearly exhibiting symptoms of extreme PTSD for what my father did to his family. My relationship with his daughter triggered it. It’s so bad that he can’t even tell us apart.
“Family’s First Christmas” I clutch the small ornament carefully in my fist and take two long strides across the room to Bethany, pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you,” I whisper to her, quiet enough that only she can hear it, and when I finally let her go, I place the ornament right in the center of the tree, so that every time I walk by, I’ll remember what it feels like to have a family.
She yelps as I lean down to pick her up bridal style. She is my bride, after all. I carry her through the mansion, to the garage. Parked directly in the middle of the room is a pearlescent white McLaren 720S, and a custom license plate that simply says, ‘ANGEL’.
Jesus fuck, this woman is going to be the death of me. I fall to my knees in front of her and then I spoil my angel with my mouth and hands, right there on the hood of the car, all damn night. Best Christmas ever.
I suppose it makes sense. She was always glued to Kelly’s side at the orphanage, most likely because she was the most consistent adult in her life at the time. She had a penchant for wandering off to look for candy, so now I keep stashes of Tootsie Rolls hidden around the house for her.
“I can’t believe you’d let me go without a goodbye kiss, angel.” My eyes fly open, and I go stiff in complete shock. Christian’s eyes are open. He’s smiling at me, with that same charming smile I fell in love with and those icy blue eyes full of life.
She bites down on her molars so hard I think she’s on the verge of chipping her teeth. I wet my bottom lip as she stares up at me with that defiance that always gets me hard as a rock. As the blood rushes to my groin, I stop caring about all of it. Valenti, Kate, the assassin, her father. Everything that causes tension in our relationship melts away until I’m nothing but a beast lusting after her.
Christian lets out a pained grunt, and then digs his hands into my ass, holding me tight against him while he paints my wet, velvet walls with his release. I moan into his mouth, having forgotten how erotic it is to have the man that loves me cum deep inside me. To claim me. To mark me as his and only his, like I’ve always been.
Christian has been more active over the last few days. He can shower on his own now, which instantly brightened his mood. I laughed so hard I snorted when he told me to, quote, ‘get the fuck out so I can wash my nutsack in peace’. He’s been in the gym trying to get his range of motion back in his arms after not being able to lift them above his head for weeks.
He pauses and something dark and sexy flickers across his eyes. My body responds by clenching around nothing and growing wetter. I put the mask on him, and this is the first time I’ve ever understood what he means when he says Christian Reeves and the Silencer are two different people.
Bethany recoils as if I’ve just slapped her across the face, because she knows I’m right. I take a deep breath and nuzzle my cheek against Caroline’s head. “Take her,” I instruct, my eyes a silent warning that if she leaves the property with my daughter, I will violently dismember her.
Helicopter footage shows the unprecedented carnage Christian has inflicted on the city in the few hours I’ve been gone. It looks like an active war zone. Black smoke rises from the streets and skyscrapers in thick plumes. Police cruisers are upside down and smashed in. Looters are running around with crowbars. Traffic is backed up, circling the entire island. Three of the four bridges leading off the island are disintegrated. He blew them up. God, I love it when he’s unhinged.
Elena’s question has Elliot’s eyes flickering to me and then back down to her hand. He chuckles, cutting himself off with a wince that sounds painful. “Sweetheart, I’ve been a surgeon longer than you’ve been alive. I know what a laceration from glass looks like.” He throws his arm around her shoulders and leads her to his guest bedroom. He sits Elena down at the small desk against the far wall, and I grab a chair and sit next to her, placing my hand gently on her thigh in a gesture of comfort.
My entire world goes red. My body goes numb with rage. I’ve gone deaf. My only working sense is sight, and I watch in horror, unable to move as Elliot lets Elena go, and her lifeless body slumps directly into my lap.
I let out a heavy sigh followed by a loud, unhinged, blood-curdling scream. I catch my breath, and then crawl back to Elena’s body, sitting in a pool of her blood. I pull her body into my lap and kiss her forehead, and then I reach for my gun.
“Okay, baby. Just…turn around and count to one hundred, and I’ll get you some pancakes, okay?” “But daddy, I don’t know how to count to one hundred.” “That’s okay, babygirl, just turn around and count as high as you can.” I’ve been hanging on by a thread named Elena, and now she’s gone. I hold my angel to my chest and wait for Caroline to reach ten before I put the gun to my head. And like I was always meant to, I pull the trigger.
