Chapter Four

Chloe's POV

"What are you doing?!"

I saw the shovels first. Then the dirt. Then the gaping hole where my daughter's grave used to be.

I lunged forward. Two guards caught me, pinning my arms behind my back.

"Stop it. Listen to me," Damien said, infuriatingly calm. "Serena's been having nightmares. Leo's had a fever for a week. I had someone look into it—they said Rosie's spirit is the cause."

I stopped struggling. Not because I believed him. Because I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Once we relocate the remains, I'll build her the best memorial..."

"She doesn't have remains!" I screamed. "All that's left is ash!"

Damien nodded to the guard holding the urn.

The guard opened it.

He tilted it toward the sky.

"NO—NO!"

I broke free with a strength I didn't know I still had. I threw myself forward, hands outstretched, grasping at the air.

Too late.

Rosie's ashes scattered into the rain. Gray dust swirling in the downpour, dissolving into nothing. Into puddles. Into mud.

Gone.

I dropped to my knees. The wet earth soaked through immediately, cold as death. My fingers clawed at the ground, scraping together fistfuls of mud, trying to find something—anything—left of her.

My nails split open. Blood mixed with rainwater and dirt.

"It's my fault," I whispered, over and over. "I'm sorry, baby. Mommy's sorry. Mommy couldn't protect you. Don't leave me. Please don't leave me."

Damien sighed. He held his umbrella over my head.

"You still have me," he said softly. "We'll have more children. Everything will be fine."

I looked up at him. Rain and tears and blood on my face.

"Get away from me." Every word was a blade. "I never want to see you again. For the rest of my life."

His expression darkened instantly. "Don't want to see me? Then who do you want to see? Let me make this very clear, Chloe, you belong to me. Only me. Forever."

He scooped me up. I clawed at his neck, bit his shoulder, kicked and screamed. He didn't even blink.

My body gave out before my rage did. The world went black.

I dreamed of Rosie.

She was wearing her favorite princess dress, the pink one with the tulle skirt. But her face was covered in blood. Her eyes—those big, bright eyes that used to look at me like I was her whole world—were hollow with pain.

"Mommy." Her voice cracked. "Why didn't you save me?"

I reached for her. "Baby, I tried..."

"It hurts so much, Mommy. It hurts so bad."

"I know, I know, come here."

But she screamed and jerked away from my hands.

"You helped him! You're the reason I'm dead! I hate you! I will never forgive you!"

I woke up screaming.

Leather straps. Wrists. Ankles. Buckled to the bedframe.

Damien sat in the chair beside me, watching.

"You were attacked in place of Serena," he said calmly. "I owe you. I'll spend my life making it up."

"What are you talking about?"

"The kidnapper from five years ago took Serena. He wants a trade. You for her."

The room tilted.

"Serena is delicate," Damien continued, his tone so reasonable it made my skin crawl. "But you're different. You're trained. You're strong. You can handle them."

He paused. Brushed a strand of hair from my face.

"And even if something happens to you... I won't love you any less."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I jerked against the restraints so hard the bedframe cracked.

"You're insane!" I screamed. "You're actually insane! You want to hand me to them?!"

"It's the only way to get Serena back safely."

"If you do this, I will never forgive you! NEVER!"

Damien stood up. He wouldn't look at me. He turned to the kidnapper's man waiting in the doorway and said, in a voice cold as iron: "Remember what you promised. Return her to me tomorrow, or I will tear you apart with my bare hands."

"I always keep my word," the man said.

They traded Serena for me like I was cargo.

The door closed behind me. A small, dark room. No windows. The air smelled like rust and gasoline.

The kidnapper walked in with four men behind him.

"Serena was right," he said, looking me up and down. "Damien really did trade you for her." He almost sounded sorry. Almost. "I know you're innocent in all this. But Damien killed my child. Got my wife sold overseas. I need him to feel what I felt."

He snapped his fingers.

They came at me all at once.

The first blow was a fist to my stomach. I doubled over. Then the whip came. Leather across my back, my arms, my thighs. I bit through my lip trying not to scream.

The cigarettes came next. Slow. Deliberate. Pressed into the skin of my collarbone, my forearms. The smell of my own flesh burning.

On the other side of the door, I could hear Damien's voice. Relieved. Tender. Holding Serena, telling her it was over, she was safe now.

I stopped screaming after the first hour.

By dawn, I couldn't feel anything at all.

They dragged me out at first light. The cliff edge. Wind screaming. A long, long drop to the river below.

"Relax," the kidnapper said cheerfully. "I said I wouldn't kill you. This spot is just remote, so I told your husband to pick you up here."

Damien's car skidded to a stop twenty feet away.

He saw me and froze.

I was standing, barely. My clothes were torn and stained dark. Burns and welts covered every inch of visible skin. I was swaying in the wind like I might blow away.

"What did you do to her?!" Damien roared at the kidnapper. "You promised you wouldn't touch her!"

"You're the one who chose Serena. Don't look at me like that." The man shrugged.

He gave me a little push toward Damien.

But I didn't move.

I looked at Damien, the man I'd once pulled from a burning building with my bare hands, the man I'd shattered my leg saving, the man I'd loved more than my own life.

I felt nothing.

No. That's not true. I felt one thing.

"You know what I regret most in my entire life?" My voice was barely a whisper, but the wind carried it perfectly. "Saving you from that explosion."

Damien's face went white.

I stepped backward. The edge crumbled under my heel.

"Rosie." I closed my eyes. "Mommy's coming."

I spread my arms and fell.