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Gathering all of my thoughts, I begin to speak. “Vivienne Aston was only ever a mother in title. The day that I was born, she had an adoption agency present in the birthing room and was more than ready to sign the papers,” I say, as if reciting the words from a third-party viewer rather than someone who lived through the experience.

Callum’s hand tightens around my shin, and his jaw flexes, but he remains silent and attentive.

“My father talked her out of it. He said he’d assume full responsibility. He told Vivienne that he’d divorce her and take me far away. She couldn’t have that. She couldn’t afford to be alone at the time, and a divorce would have been too much of a spectacle for her. So naturally, she agreed to keep me for no other reason than status and control. Part of me wishes that my father hadn’t protested.”

I stop, recalling the words I’d read in my mother’s journal that broke my heart all those years ago.

“Life with Vivienne was never easy. She worked for a huge law firm, one with some of the most corrupt lawyers in Hollowcrest. She devoted her life to work, always trying to climb the corporate ladder straight to the very top. And at home, she was detached—cold,” I say, shaking my head at the memories. “She pushed me to be perfect at all times. She restricted what I ate, what I watched, what I wore, the friends I could have … everything. She wanted a perfect little life, with a perfect little daughter. She was grooming me. She—she would.” I pause, trying my best not to let my emotions break my composure.

I don’t owe Vivienne an ounce of sorrow.

“Hey, hey,” Callum starts, leaning over to wipe a rogue tear trailing down my cheek. He cradles my jaw, tilting my face toward his own. “Look at me, love. You don’t have to do this, not if it hurts. I’m here. You can give me as little or as much as you want, and I’ll carry it for you. I’ll fucking carry all of it for you, Lydia. You’re safe with me, little siren.”

I bite back the tears pounding against my resolve, all in response to his words—words I never thought I’d hear from a man who’s always guarded them so ruthlessly.

“No,” I say, wiping away another reckless tear. “No, I want to tell you all of it. I want to let you in.”

He nods once, dropping his hand over my leg and leaning back against the sofa cushion. I pick up right where I left off.

“If I didn’t get an A on a test, she’d force me to go to bed hungry that night,” I say, staring blankly at the floor. “If I spoke out of turn, she’d make me run until I was vomiting and near passing out.” I pause, swallowing hard. “If I spoke about a guy I liked, she’d set me up on a date with someone she approved of instead. It was never the guys I actually liked. And then once I was sixteen, she’d force me to … she’d force me to—”

“She’d fucking force you to do what, Lydia?” Callum asks, his posture tense and his expression terrifying.

I suck in a breath, willing the next words forward from the darkest parts of my memories. “She’d force me to engage in sexual acts with them and then confirm that they were satisfied when I was finished. Their parents were in on it. It was all a big plan to make sure I’d end up marrying into a family with money and status. This was her way to climb that damn ladder straight to the top,” I blurt out the words in one hurried response, keeping the recollection PG when it was anything but.

The memories alone are enough to drag me back to the depths of the depression that it took me ages to climb out of. Callum’s grip on my shin tightens as he reaches for me. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me against him. I lean my cheek against his chest and finally allow the tears to fall. These aren’t for Vivienne; they’re for the little girl that I never got to be. They’re for the childhood that was ripped right from beneath my feet.

“I’m so fucking sorry, love,” he says against the top of my head. “No one should have to go through that, and at the hands of your own goddamn mother,” he spits out. “If she weren’t already dead, I’d drag her down to the pits of Hell myself. I’d make sure she apologized for being the world’s worst fucking parent to you.”

I giggle through the tears as my coping mechanism shows itself. The sound of my laughter might be a bit broken, but not completely devoid of light. The laughter is the only thing that drowns the noise. Callum holds me tightly against him, and I allow myself to sink into the rare warmth of his embrace.

“Shh, love,” he whispers. “I’ve got you. I’ll do anything to make this better. I’ll kill them all.”

I choke out another laugh, pushing to lean back and look up at him. “Kill who?” I ask, sniffling as I tilt my head in question.

“The guys who went along with Vivienne’s sick little game,” he says.

“Oh,” I say. “Well, only half of them actually went along with it. The other half pretended so that she’d let them out of the room.”

“Only half, huh?” he asks, flexing his jaw. “I want a list. I’ll track them down and make sure they never assault anyone ever again. I’ll kill them, Lydia. Just say the word, and it’s done.”

Something tells me that he isn’t joking at all.

I shake my head. “I just want to forget about all of that,” I say. “I want to stop seeing the ghost of Vivienne. I want this all to stop. My past does not define me. I’ve made peace with it.”

Callum nods, tugging me over until I’m in his lap. “You’re the strongest woman I know, Lydia Aston. You’re so brave, so kind, and so fucking beautiful it hurts.”

I choke on a sob as his words render me speechless once again. Where did Callum Thorne go, and what did he do with Mr. Grumpy Pants? I sigh, easing into the way he runs his hand down the back of my hair, combing through the strands with his fingers.

“I wasn’t going to give Vivienne the satisfaction of breaking me. I chose strength. I chose to live fully despite it all. I chose life, Callum. And you can, too. You deserve that, too,” I say, lifting my head to meet his gaze. His golden eyes are rimmed in tears, the vulnerability I see within them nearly stealing the breath from my lungs.

“I know,” he whispers, placing a kiss on my forehead. “Thanks to you, I know.”

I smile, and we sit in comfortable silence for several minutes. It feels so natural, so good. I never want it to end.

“Is there anything else you want, love?” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. I know what he’s doing. He’s giving me back the control stolen from me from the very start.

This, I can control. This, I can consent to. This feels safe.