Page 65 of Duchess

Duchess

“Did you kill him, Caleb?"

He looked at me, and he didn't even have to say it. I just knew.

His coal black eyes were full of pain. But not for what he had committed. His pain came from the possibility of losing me. After Alan, I never thought about love. I engaged with the Harlots, built the empire that is now the Violent Delights, and I ignored every man who thought they could have me at their beck and call, like some sort of trophy. But Caleb’s confession meant something. Because he had everything, and he was about to give it all up for me. Because that’s what loving me would do to him. It would strip him of everything he’d built.

"Was it because of me?"

"No," he reached out and slid his hand to the back of my neck, pulling my forehead against his. "No, my love. You had nothing to do with that decision."

"Then why? Why did you kill him?"

He clenched his eyes tight as he struggled with the answer. He gripped me tighter. "It was an order given by my grandfather. Alan had committed the worst of betrayals and had stolen fromthe family. There was nothing I could do to save him. It was him or me."

"But why you?"

He turned away from me, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the rail. His head bent low; he took a moment to respond. When he did, his voice was filled with genuine pain.

"Because I needed to be punished. My grandfather has a brutal way of teaching a lesson."

"Do you regret it?" I whispered, holding my breath as I waited for that cold response.

"No. I do not. He was a traitor. He was hurting my family and you. I have no remorse for what I did. The only regret I have is not telling you the truth."

His response was defensive, as expected, but there was this genuine regret when he mentioned my name.

“Why didn’t you tell me you felt this way about me?”

“What for? To have to reject me? To have you laugh at me?”

“I wouldn’t have… “

“You forget how much you hated me, my Duchess.”

“Is this why you were so relentless in chasing me?” I asked carefully.

“At first, it was an order. I was truly angry with you. You had betrayed me, my family… But then I realized that my family was just an excuse. I needed to know you were alive, that you were well. I need to have you close, Stephanie. I truly missed you all those years.”

I took a step back, realizing this man had truly spent the last ten years of his life searching for me.

“If you loved me, why hurt me?”

“Why not? You were slowly killing me,” he seethed.

“And Jinx. What about her? She was innocent in all this.”

“That was my grandfather’s doing. When I found out, I was livid. I wanted to kill him but… “

“He was your grandfather.” I finished his thought. “Blood is heavier than anything else. I get that.”

“DO you?” He looked at me then, his features with an inner turmoil I could never understand.

I should have feared him. A man who was this obsessed was dangerous. He was a man who would kill me before I could leave him. But I suddenly didn't want to leave him. Maybe it was because I'd always been attracted to assholes, or maybe a part of his dark soul called out to mine, but I suddenly didn't want to leave. I had no urge to run or hide. All I wanted was to stay by his side and ease that turmoil in his eyes.

All these questions fluttered through my mind in a whirlwind, yet the most prominent of them was, could a Duchess love a murderer?

Instinct.

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