ella

antom taste of smoke and ash. My eyes snapped open to an unfamiliar ceiling, shadowed in the dim light of a sprawling, immaculate

tiletto had been professionally bandaged, the stark white gauze

My famil

ge, the tears refused to fall. The naive, terrified Isabella had burned to ash in the North Wing. What remained was somet

a voice-Caitlin's-low and triumphant. She was on the phone. "Yes, Mother... It's done. T

ght she had won, on her way to claim her prize in Marco's bed. A cold, predatory cla

k door of the suite, opening it just a fraction. Down the dimly lit, luxurious corridor, Caitli

adows like a startled anim

e knob, before she could even register my presence, I slammed my

eavy oak door and yanked it shut, throwing my entire weight

g! B

creamed, her fists pounding against the wood. Pan

ound on my left hand tore open from the exertion, fresh, warm blo

ou're dead!" she shrie

was devoid of any human warmth, a demonic whisper echoing her own cruel

wed by a dark, drug-fueled laugh. Marco. Caitlin's terrified screams morphed into desperate, muffle

torn hem of my ruined dress to wipe my fresh b

d dangerously. I dragged my feet, stumbling back toward the open door of

ng. My knees buckled, and I fell forward,

ever

ng arms wrapped around me, catching me with effortless g

flawless, sculpted face gave nothing away, but his narrow, pitch-black eyes were fixed on me. They didn't hold pity or

hifted toward the hallway, where the faint,