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The pieces were coming together in my head as I spoke, like some twisted puzzle.

It all made sense. I'd suspected for some time now that there was something going on between my father and Sebastian. Some silent war game. And I was the lowly pawn caught in the middle. I never realized they would take it to such demented heights.

“There was nothing bogus about our engagement. We will be married. And soon.”

I clenched my hand around the shard. “Over my dead body. I’ll never marry you.”

The moment I said it, I realized how menacing and yet empty my threat sounded.

Men had died today. I almost died today.

The threat of death didn’t deter him.

Sebastian muttered a curse. "Dammit, woman. You're bleeding."

I followed his gaze to my clenched fist. Dark crimson blood slithered over my wrist, dripping onto the pristine white marble below, each drop a stark reminder of the violence that followed Sebastian everywhere.

With a cry, I dropped the shard. It splintered into a thousand slivers the moment it struck the marble.

Sebastian stepped forward.

I shifted to move back, but his harsh command stopped me.

"Don't!"

My feet were bare, and the broken mirror surrounded me.

Ignoring the danger to his own bare feet, Sebastian stormed forward and swept me into his arms.

His skin burned against mine, the heat of him seeping through my torn dress.

His heart pounded against my palm, the only proof that the monster who held me was still human, as he stepped over the threshold with me clutched against his chest.

CHAPTER 6

SABRINA

The bed dominated the room.

“Let me go.”

"No."

He had carried me down a long hallway, past the opulent dining room and entryway, into another bedroom inside the private Vatican apartment.

In the center sat a massive bed fit for a royal palace, with cobalt-blue velvet drapes, a massive headboard and a canopy made of gold, with chubby-cheeked cherubs frolicking among flowers and fruit.

The irony wasn't lost on me.

I twisted my torso to push against his chest, my hands splaying across the hard planes of muscle. His skin burned hot beneath my touch, and I hated how my body responded to him.

He glared down at me, eyes darkening to obsidian. "Stop squirming."

Before I could fire back a retort, he strode past the bed into an adjoining bathroom.

Hot steam lingered and fogged the mirrors, the humidity slicking my skin instantly. The scent of sandalwood soap hung in the air.

The moment my feet touched the cool marble, I made a dash for the door. My heart thundered in my chest, a trapped bird seeking freedom.