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Lock the door behind her.

Barricade herself against the monster.

Instead, I found her curled up in the center of the bed, asleep. Her damp hair spread across the pillow, her knees drawn up to her chest in a protective ball.

Careful not to disturb her, I drew the folded coverlet at the bottom of the bed over her sleeping form. I then swept a palm over my mouth and jaw, contemplating her.

With her makeup washed away, the dark circles under her eyes stood out. Violet bruises against her pale skin. Evidence of what my obsession was doing to her.

“I should let you go,” I murmured, barely audible. “That’s what a decent man would do.”

But I wasn’t decent. I was a fucking Diamanti.

I leaned down and brushed my lips against her temple. “But I won’t. I can’t.”

She stirred slightly, a soft sound escaping her lips.

“Sleep, little bird,” I whispered. “Tomorrow, we go to war.”

Diamantis didn’t lose. And they sure as fuck didn’t let someone take what was theirs.

Sabrina was mine.

Purchased with blood.

Sealed with pleasure.

Marked by pain.

Today the judge tried to take her from me.

And for that, he would pay with everything he held dear.

I would burn his world to the ground, and Sabrina would watch it happen from my side.

Whether she wanted to or not.

CHAPTER 8

SABRINA

Iawoke with a start.

With the back of my hand, I rubbed my eyes, trying to chase away the strange disorientation that came from an unexpected nap.

No, nap was too pedestrian a word. It sounded cute and innocent.

Was there a word for passing out from adrenaline fatigue brought on by almost being murdered, running for my life, a vicious fight over a marriage proposal refusal, and then violent, all-consuming, hot-as-fuck shower sex?

I couldn't think of one, but I knew “nap” definitely wasn't fucking it.

Stretching my shoulders, I grimaced. The cooled, damp towel under the blanket clung to my skin.

Blanket?

I ran my fingertips over the edge of the soft quilt.

Sebastian must have covered me in my sleep so I wouldn't get cold.