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A smile pulls at a corner of my lips. She will need time to heal and a safe space to hide to constantly run back to, but she is a fighter, and one day, she will walk these halls with the confidenceof a queen.

“Never to me,” I say, and she glances up at me, a quick widening of surprise before her eyes dart low again.

“Luckily for you we’re already married because that was awful.” She mumbles the words so low I barely make them out, but when I do, my grin spreads unhindered.

“A woman withoutan interest in flattery?”I tease.

“I would rather the truth.”

“The truth is,sweet girl,I have waited thirty years for you to wake up. Every time I fed you with my telekinesis, every time I cleaned you or just satatyour bedsideand talked, I hoped you’d open those pretty green eyes of yoursand smile at me like you did on our wedding day. The truth is, Sau.” I tilt her chin up so she can meet my gaze. “I will never seek distance from your company.”

Her cheeks and neckturnaprettyshade of pink, but she doesn’t duck her head, doesn’t hide from me in any way. She just stares, seeking the truth, so much fragility in her eyes. So much fear that it is just flattery.

It isn’t.

And eventually shemust realizethatforher muscles finally relax against mine.

She drops her head backagainstmy neck, but it isn’t a retreat. It’s a seeking of comfort, and I tighten my arms around her.

We sit likethisuntil there’s a knock on my door that causes her to jump. She jerks around in my lap, already moving to disappear beneath the desk.I wait until she is fully settled, her body pressed against my legs, her knees pulled in close to her chest before I call out, “Come in.”

Leonstrides in to stand in front of me, speckled and sprayed in flesh blood that stains his gray button-up shirt, his sleeves rolled up to show red crusted hairs on thick forearms. The severed head of ChristianGalehangs from short black locks twirled in my son’s fingers. Helays the traitor on the stretch of dark-red vinyl inlaid into the front of my mahogany desk –the wipeable fabricmakes itso mucheasier to clean.

“And the boss’ name?” I ask, my lips flattening at the sight of my son’s frustration.

“He didn’t talk.”

“Not a single word?” I glance at the dead man’s mouth, seeing if his tongue is still there; I wouldn’t be surprised if the mastermind behind this all had cursed it to explode if he so much uttered a word. “He still has his tongue. You killed him too quickly.”

His jaw tics. “He tried to kill me.”

“I see no wounds on you.”

“Because I killed him first.”

“Clearly.Leave me.” When he reaches for the head, I shake mine. “Leave it.”

He hesitates, then turns, and I watch him as he walks from my office until the door clicks shut behind him.Sau looks up at me as I push my chair back and gesture for her to climb back onto my lap.

My wife does so slowly, her muscles too weak to move much faster. She sucks in a breath when she turns to settle comfortably on my thighs, her head in the direction of the one on my desk. “Who is that?”

“ChristianGale.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know him.”

“Hewas acapo.”A man I personally gave orders to and trusted to make sure they were followed. I expected Christian Boyle to be the head on my desk this morning. Heisa falcon –one of the eyes and ears of the streets– but heisalso only an associate, not a full member. His true loyaltyishis and no one else’s.

But Christian Gale… I would have trusted him with my life.

“What did he do?” she asks, and I hesitate, finding my words carefully.But there isn’t a nice way to tell her she’s been raped an unknown amount of times by an unknown amount of people in a place she should feel safe.

There’s a knock at the door, giving me an out, but I don’t take it. As much as I wish to protect her from the cruelty of the world she lives in,my hunt is not ending with Christian Gale. When I castrate all the men who hurt her, she and everyone else in this Familywill heartheir screams.There will be no protecting her then.

“The man you woke up to… Christian was an associate of his.”

She sucks in a breath, a choked sob.“Did hetouch metoo?” she asks, her voiceraw and shaky.

“I don’t know.”