I shudder at the thought and focus on adding some therapy salts to the bath. I choose the eucalyptus-scented one. It’s a new package, left by whoever stocks my bathroom. I used to think it was the staff. Now, I’m not so sure.
Lately, I’ve actually started to wonder if the person who leaves me the books is also the one who puts all the healing lotions and bath products under my sink.
Whoever they are, I love them. Or him.
Master Kaiden flashes in my mind again, his smoldering gaze from tonight sending a prickle of renewed heat through my veins. He never smiles. He rarely talks. But he oozes possession.
My arm tingles with the memory of him brushing by me on his way out of the party. He does that sometimes, ensuring I feel his presence.
Then Warren ruined it by calling me over to “entertain” his friends.
All three of them at once.
And they all wanted anal tonight.
I shiver, my thighs still drenched in the aftermath of their fun and my agony.
Bath, I remind myself. It’ll help.
With a rough swallow, I hoist myself up and over the edge. My lower body burns as I slide into the tub, my sore ass throbbing from the things they inserted into me.
The blood will forever stain the ruined sheets. Fortunately, I know they’ll be replaced by the time I leave the sanctuary of my bath. Warren’s staff are always thorough, especially when cleaning up my husband’s sins, and those of his friends.
I shiver, and another tear escapes my eye. Go to your happy place, I remind myself. Solitude. Peace. The scent of the sea.
It’s so natural to me now. I often fall into this fantasyland inside my mind when trying to escape during the act. The relief was short-lived when I tried to do this earlier tonight. Warren and his three friends knew exactly how to yank me back into the present. However, they’re no longer here now.
I sink deeper into the tub and close my eyes.
And allow myself to float away to a place of peace and quiet.
Everything is white for miles. Sand.
The sound of waves churns in the distance. Ocean.
Warmth blankets my skin. Sun.
I sigh, content with the thoughts of the only place that has ever truly pleased me. Home.
I rarely visited as a girl, the bridal program consuming most of my life. It was essentially a fancy boarding school for girls. The program started with a variety of foreign language classes, political science and government courses, and an assortment of other core educational lessons, like math and literature.
But when I turned eighteen, the focus of my training shifted to the sexual arts.
Starting with an elite member taking my virginity, then another being assigned as my personal trainer.
I knew from a young age that my purpose was solely to please a male member of society.
However, nothing could have prepared me for the trials of my eighteenth year.
And none of that compared to what Warren did to me on our wedding night.
I groan, the memories flooding my thoughts and drowning out the happy place of my youth. No. Not now. I push them away, fighting to the surface and yearning to return to the beach home my father allowed me to share with my mother for two weeks a year.
She used the time to drink her weight in wine. I merely sat on the porch and watched the waves.
They tumbled across the sand, over and over again.
So soothing.
I yawn, relaxing more into the tub, my skin ignoring the cooling liquid around me. I’ll stay here all night, just as I have many times before.
The lip of the bath cradles my head, lulling me into a relaxed state.
Hours pass.
The water is chilly now, cooled by the air conditioner.
It’s a warmer time of year, causing the systems to work harder to keep the estate temperate. A few minutes out on my balcony will cure me of the chill streaming through my veins. I just need to manifest the will to move.
After several attempts, I finally manage to force myself out of the tub. But rather than go outside, I just wrap myself up in a robe and go to the bed.
It’s freshly cleaned, the maids having silently come in while I bathed to strip the soiled linens and replace them with new sheets. The blood on the floor is gone, too. However, the memories are not. And the bruises are only just starting to form.
I ignore it all and cuddle deeper into my robe on top of the satin sheets.
Tomorrow is a new day.
Where I’ll probably endure this all over again.
Sweet dreams, I think. Whatever that means.
Chapter Three
Kaiden
I stroke my thumb across my bottom lip as Camilla snuggles deeper into her sheets. She looks so innocent and demure, her lashes fluttering across her cheeks as she loses herself to whatever fantasies lurk inside her mind.
Or perhaps nightmares await her.
Warren and his friends weren’t easy on her tonight. But they’ll never touch her again.
She’s mine now.
My toy. My bride. The future mother of my heirs.
She just doesn’t know it yet. But she will tomorrow, once the sun rises and the authorities bring news of her husband’s brutal car accident. He took a turn too hard and flipped his car. And the fire that followed destroyed everything inside.
Such a pity.
No one will ever know how he wept in his final moments, dreading the blade I held poised against his throat.
A beautiful sight.
A dream I’ll take to my grave.
Oh, there will be questions. Some may even say I had a motive. But the plan worked just as I intended. Rumors will fly without any proof, and I’ll ignore it all. As will my beautiful, sweet wife-to-be.
My brother left her with nothing, something she’ll quickly learn.
But I’ll fix it all.
I brush a finger across the screen, smiling as she trembles in her sleep. It’s as though she knows the real monster is about to claim her. The one still wearing her husband’s blood.
“I’ll make it all better soon,
