Page 75 of Marriage of Revenge

Her story tears something open inside me - not pity, but recognition. Another life fucking shredded by fate and family. Wine burns down my throat but can't wash away how this changes everything. How it challenges every wall the Beast built.

"Why didn't they catch it?" The words come rough with rage I shouldn't feel.

Her inhale sounds like knives. "No one believed me at first." Raw truth bleeds from every word. "Then your precious father-in-law worried about having 'damaged goods.' Pretty sure that voids your warranty, Maestro. Can't return me now."

That bitter laugh, the way she wears her pain like armor - it's not what I expected from daddy's perfect princess. The hurt shadowing her eyes, the steel in her spine - fuck if it doesn't make me want to tear her father apart with my bare hands.

And isn't that just perfect?

She hands me more reason for revenge.

Right when I'm questioning if she deserves it.

Her story mirrors mine like a broken reflection - both of us forged in different fires. Every word she speaks digs up things I thought I'd burned away. Makes the Beast remember what empathy tastes like, how it feels to recognize someone else's battle scars. Makes me question every fucking plan I've carved into stone.

She picks at her food, that fierce light in her dimming. Something harder tries to break free. "I don't know if I can..." The words fade like smoke between us. Her fingers twist in silk, searching for anchor. "You know..."

When I don't rescue her - because the Beast doesn't rescue anymore - she forces it out: "The doctors say... early menopause. Might be permanent." Each word costs her something. "Might need... help. For intimacy." Her eyes won't meet mine now. "And kids..." Her voice breaks around possibilities already turning to ash. "Might not be possible anymore. My dad said it’s reversible. But he’s not a doctor and I think he just didn’t want me to blurt to everyone I couldn’t have kids. Even if all you want is that contract. And that protection my mom’s family name also brings."

Kids. One word, and it paints a picture I don't fucking want - some little dancer with her mother's eyes bringing light to these shadow-filled halls. Small feet learning ballet in rooms that have only known violence. Laughter echoing where there's only ever been screams.

I slam that door shut hard enough to rattle my own cage. Can't let myself think about futures that don't end in revenge. Can't let her vulnerability make the Beast remember what it felt like to protect instead of destroy.

But watching her sit there, carrying wars I never knew she fought...

Makes me wonder if a better man would realize there are some scars even monsters shouldn't touch.

Some broken pieces that deserve to heal instead of shatter.

Too bad for Isabella I’m not that man. I cannot be that man.

I’ll be the man who promises a fairytale only to shatter it.

"I'll make you forget everything but my touch." The promise rumbles from somewhere deeper than revenge. When I lean in, her scent hits like honey and fear mixed with want. My fingers find her pulse - quick and desperate under delicate skin. "I'll take care of you, Bell'cenda." Truth bleeds into words meant to be weapons, and fuck if that doesn't terrify me more than any battle.

The space between us carries voltage, every breath we share heavy with things we shouldn't want. This is supposed to be about power, about breaking her piece by piece. But watching her sit there, carrying scars I didn't give her...

Something in me wants to be gentle.

Wants to show her pleasure can burn brighter than pain.

Wants to make her forget about everything but how good monsters can feel.

And isn't that the most dangerous game of all?

CHAPTER 39—ISABELLA

Everything stops like thatmoment before music starts.

My breath.

My thoughts.

My heart.

Especially my heart - which was performing its own terrified ballet seconds ago, and now? Now it's hiding in the wings, waiting for its cue.

"I'll make sure you forget everything else," he said.

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