Franco always looked at me with f**king respect; now it bordered on friendship and pity. Even after everything we’d done in the warehouse, he thought I was weak.

I f**king hated it. I hate everything. I hate everyone. Tess did this. Tess cut out my soul and left me with nothing.

“Tell him to go. I don’t need him.” If I died of a migraine so be it. Then at last I might find peace.

“Are you sure?”

I glowered. “Don’t, Franco. Don’t ever forget your place.”

He dropped his eyes, taking a step back. “Didn’t mean to piss you off.” He left without another word, and I ploughed through the house that was no longer a private sanctuary but a convalescent home for over twenty women whom we’d flown over from Rio. I slammed the front door behind me.

Five were due to leave today. And two left the moment they arrived. A few were sick and four suffered withdrawals like Tess, but none of them had been hurt as much as her. It made no sense to butcher items bound for sale. The only casualty had been found by one of the mercenaries: a blonde in a shallow grave with a gunshot to the head.

I had no purpose as I paced around the exterior of the large manor. I had no compass or direction anymore. I needed to go for a run, or beat the shit out of some gym equipment. But all I could think about was Tess.

I didn’t have the balls to go back to see her. I couldn’t stand looking into her empty soulless eyes. I couldn’t be told to leave again. I might strike her. I might hit her and then I’d be no better than the bastards who stole her.

Hit her. Whip her. Force her to face whatever it is she’s blocked.

But instead of pawing at me, encouraging me to race back to tie Tess up, the beast curled deeper into the corner, hanging its pitiful head. It wanted to bolt. To leave and never come back.

The urge to sprint filled my limbs and I took off. I wasn’t dressed for a run—in jeans and a black T-shirt—but I couldn’t stand the angst anymore.

I took off toward the manicured fields, running from thoughts of Tess.

I charged under ancient trees, sucking in lungfuls of air as I outran my demons. Outran the memories of her hallucinations and fretful mumbling. I tried to forget that she talked to Brax in her sleep, her parents, too.

My hands curled and I slammed them into a tree as I darted past. Bark lodged into my knuckles, but I didn’t care.

I didn’t care about anything but running.

*****

Two hours later, I could barely move and smashed the library door behind me. Throwing myself into a wingback, I tried to calm my breathing, wiping my sweaty face with the hem of my T-shirt.

I needed a shower, but I couldn’t face going upstairs to my room yet. The thought of seeing Tess hurt like a motherfucker.

Scowling at the library, I remembered why I’d avoided coming in here. Too many memories existed: Tess standing up to the police when she thought they’d come to arrest me; Tess coming back to offer her love.

And now that f**king love was fading. If not already disappeared.

I picked up a heavy candlestick from the side table, hurling it at the fireplace. It bent and smashed against the bricks. The violence awakened the need in me, and I wanted to wring somebody’s neck for stealing something so precious from me.

My jaw ground until my teeth almost turned to dust. I needed a fight. I needed to kill to purge myself of this...this…foreign emotion. This mind-twisting confusion.

Everything inside no longer made sense. When Tess woke up coughing and fighting her dreams, I called her my love. I called her the sweetest endearment I’d ever called anyone in my life, and she didn’t react.

I willingly opened my heart to her and finally f**king admitted that I no longer merely cared for her. I no longer even fell for her. I’d hit rock bottom and loved her with every inch of my f**king soul.

And nothing.

Her fragility and sickness activated another part of me. The part that stood up to be a protector and provider. My need to wipe her brow and hold her while she healed encouraged dormant sides of me to grow.

I felt myself distancing, retreating from a harsh lover who wanted to hurt, to something softer. A man who would lay down his body, who would flay himself alive if it meant Tess would heal. But those caring needs crippled the beast and I no longer saw Tess as a fighter.

By her own words she was forcing me away.

She looked at me with no emotion, not as her lover who’d drawn her blood and been so deep inside her, I bruised both of us. She looked at me as if she’d said goodbye already.

I stood up, unable to sit any longer. Grabbing a pair of bookends, I threw them against the desk. The loud bangs as they dented the wood encouraged me to reap more anarchy.

Turning myself over to the beast, I brought an apocalypse on the room.

I tore off bookshelves.

It’s over.

I shredded limited editions.

I’ve fallen in love only for it to end so fast.

I hurled figurines and kicked priceless artefacts.

She’ll never be my strong esclave again.

When the room was in complete disarray, I threw myself into the chair.

Sitting forward, I massaged my temples, trying to dislodge the migraine.

Tess shot into my mind. How her head threw back when I licked her pu**y. How she moaned when I f**ked her. How her skin flushed when I whipped her.

I waited for the beast to snarl and demand I do worse things. To go up there and become her entire world while I hurt her.

But my c**k shrivelled and I skated away from such things. All I could see was a woman I would die for, a woman who paid for my sins with her agony, and all I wanted to do was wrap her in silk and finery and never go near her again.

*****

“Um, wow. I suppose I’ll need a bit of help cleaning tomorrow.”

My eyes snapped open, and the sharp swell of a headache welcomed me back to the world of unhappiness and horror.

Suzette moved through the dark room, stepping over rubble, dodging broken lamps.

“Are you okay, master? Can I get you anything?” She smoothed her pinafore, refusing to look at the mess around us. She probably thought I’d completely gone insane.

I sat straighter, dragging a hand over my face, trying to dispel the headache’s grip on me. My clothes were crusty from sweat; I felt ancient. “Is she okay?” My voice was a growl. I cleared my throat.

Suzette bit her lip before answering, “She’ll be fine. She just needs time.”

I tensed at her tone. She lied. “Qu’est ce qu’il y a, Suzette?” What is it?

Her eyes darted away before she inched closer. “She asked me if you’d let her use a laptop and internet.”

I exploded upright. “Does she still think I won’t let her talk to the outside world! She isn’t my f**king prisoner. Of course she can have a laptop.” I stalked toward my desk and grabbed the spare I always kept there.

If Tess showed an interest in something, perhaps she would find her way back. I couldn’t crush the hope building in me—even though I knew it would probably end up hurting me more.

“Here.” I shoved it toward Suzette.

She took it, but didn’t move. Finally, she glanced up and my heart swooped to my feet. “What else?”

“It’s not my place, but I don’t think you should let her have it.” She tried to give the laptop back, but I moved away. “I don’t think it’s going to help her recovery.”

“What do you mean it won’t help? I’ll do anything if it means she’ll find herself again.” I shivered, remembering the cold blankness in her eyes. “If it’s what she wants, give her the laptop, Suzette.”

She bit her lip. “I’d like to give you hope. Say that the same thing happened to me and that time will heal, but… in this instance, I’m not so sure. I think something drastic needs to be done, before you lose her.”

Suzette and I had always had a close bond. She got away with talking to me about things I shouldn’t discuss, but as much as I wanted to problem solve Tess, to talk about what the f**k I lived with, I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t discuss my feelings for Tess, or the desperation I felt.

With a small sigh, Suzette left, taking the laptop with her. The moment she’d gone, I panicked. What if she was right? What if I did the wrong thing by letting Tess have access to the outside world?

You have no f**king choice, she isn’t your slave.

Not for the first time, I wished she truly was. Then none of this would’ve happened as she would never have left my house. I could beat the shit out of her for being so distant. I could teach her to come back to me—her owner. She wouldn’t have a choice.

But she wasn’t my slave.

She was the one who stole my heart, and I doubted I’d ever get it back.

*****

The migraine decided not to kill me when I called it quits a few hours later. I tried to work. To add some input on upcoming mergers with Frederick via the phone, but all I could think about was Tess upstairs in my bed on the internet, talking to who the f**k knows.

I wasn’t a jealous ass**le, but I was petrified she’d block me out even more. I had no power over her and I wasn’t used to such a weakness.

The house rested in silence as I crept up the stairs. I didn’t know what the time was; everyone had gone to bed.

When I arrived outside the door to my room, I suffered a horrible pang of loss. I may have Tess back but her heart had gone. I’d lost the woman I wanted to fight and whip and love for the rest of my days, and I didn’t know how to act around the broken stranger in my bed.

I’d yelled at her before. Did she care? I wanted her to scream at me—to have a fight with her—anything to draw emotion from her dead soul.

My hand rested on the doorknob and I took forever to turn and enter.

Stop being a coward.

Stop my heart from hurting.

Go kill something, then you’ll feel better.

Shadows swallowed the room as I opened the door and tiptoed across the carpet. Like a f**king spineless coward, I waited until Tess drifted off to sleep before returning.

I lurked in the darkness, not turning on any lights. She slept with her mouth slightly parted and hair tangled on the pillow. The matted curls were now nice and clean. Her body smelling faintly of my orange soap from the shower.

She no longer looked like a mental patient who needed serious drugs to cope. She looked so innocent. Yet beneath that porcelain skin and golden hair lurked a demoness, a temptress who I wanted so badly to see alive again. Did she still exist in this shell of a girl?

Could I draw the real Tess free? Show her what she was giving up by shutting me out?

At least watching her while she slept, I could pretend she still belonged to me.

The fiery passion she used to possess was gone. It cut me to my black soul and beyond into forever.

My hands clenched, wishing I hadn’t buried the ringleader’s nasty heart under one of the rosebushes outside. I wanted to tear it from his chest all over again. It was the only piece of him I kept. If Tess ever asked for it, I would be prepared to give it to her.

Maybe it would bring back her fight—the passion I needed to see.

It was late. I’d had a hell of time the last few weeks, and all I wanted to do was topple into bed beside Tess. But the mental strain compounding my headache guaranteed I wouldn’t sleep.

My hands went to my belt, automatically undressing for bed. The leather was warm in my hands and I fondled it like I would an old friend. This was the same belt that welcomed Tess back into my world. Maybe it could do it all over again.

I froze. The animal inside rose its head, contemplating this sudden development.

If I woke Tess up with the bite of pain I doubted my esclave would welcome me. The broken girl who didn’t know me might crumble even worse. I would be detrimental to her healing.

There’s nothing worse than the emptiness she lives in already.

Maybe it was time for me to sleep elsewhere. To remove myself, just like she’d asked. But if I did that, I’d never get her back. I didn’t want to admit defeat.

I’ve never been so confused.

Sighing heavily, I let go of the belt, removing the feel of tempting leather in my grip. Images of Tess in the gaming room spread over the countertop roared to mind. The sound of her skin being slapped by my belt echoed in my ears. I swallowed hard, watching the silhouette of the woman who made me live in constant agony—a tripwire of desire and repulsion.

Then the urge for that sort of kink flew away, leaving me cold and hating myself for being such a f**ked-up ass**le.

Tess was no longer strong enough for that sort of shit, and it shut me down until every last need filtered away.

I forced myself to look at her—really look at her, and I didn’t like what I saw. The weight loss, the sense of sadness shadowing her even in sleep. Every inch of me wanted to climb beside her and hold her. To curl around her, offer the protection of my body, but I stood stiff instead.

My hands didn’t unclench as I fought so many urges, not all of them making sense. I’d never been so vulnerable. So tamed. I hated the lack of control over the last weeks. I hated the fact that this delicate woman had a power over me like no other. She could break me in half if I failed to keep her alive. She’d already broken me into pieces by being so remote.

The beast inside, the one who craved her blood and screams, breathed heavy with perplexity. It still wanted to tear into her, to claim her and make her cry, but at the same time it wanted to run far away whimpering and forget she ever existed.

I want to hurt you, Tess, but now the very idea of hearing you scream makes me sick to my f**king stomach.

Q, you’re changing. You never cared about repercussions before. Only the chase, the hunt, the pleasure.

Was this what love was? This soppy weakness? This mind-altering reality that left me lost and confounded?