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What was up for debate was whether his fear was over me…or the very literal death of his plans.

Bending my knees, I broke the contact of his touch and slipped under his arm. "Do you understand that the only reason why I was in danger is because of you?"

With an unholy roar that raised the hair on my arms, he hauled back his arm and punched the wall. The plaster crumbled and cracked beneath the power of his hit, white dust floating down through the air.

I screamed and stumbled backward, my back colliding with the edge of his bureau.

His chest heaved, the fine silk of his shirt straining across his shoulders as he turned sharply to face me. "You don't think I fucking know that, Sabrina?"

He stalked toward me.

I moved to the side, bumping into the chair by the already lit fire, the flames casting harsh shadows across his beautiful, tortured face. The heat seared my back through my thin sweater.

I circled around the chair, placing it between the two of us as weak protection, my fingers gripping the leather so tightly they went numb. The veins in my wrists stood out, stark against my skin.

The movement brought him up cold.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides.

"You don't think I stay awake at night terrified that someone will take you away from me because of something I set in motion?"

“That’s the whole fucking point!” I gestured frantically between us. “This was never a relationship. It was a fucking plan. A game. My life is not a motherfucking game, Sebastian.”

I jabbed my fingers into my sternum, tears falling in earnest now. “My mother could be in danger now because of choices I made. Because of lies I told her. For you. Because of you!”

He ran a hand through his hair and gave me a frustrated look. “Your mother is fine. She’s protected. She’s been protected…from the beginning.”

My eyes widened at his admission.

At the knowledge of how calculated and orchestrated this whole thing had been from the very start.

I shook my head as I backed further away from him, the chair still between us. “Can you even comprehend how fucked up what you just said is? Or are you so lost that you can no longer even see it?”

He stepped closer, the heat from his body reaching me even across the distance.

This time I didn't move back, too caught up in the darkness of his gaze, the way his chest rose and fell with each labored breath, the slight tremble in his lower lip that betrayed his emotion.

"You don't think I know my wretched soul is going straight to hell for corrupting someone so sweet, so innocent, so…perfect?"

Uncomfortable and unsure about this side of him, this vulnerability that was far more frightening than his rage, I scoffed. "I'm far from perfect. I'm⁠—"

"To me you are. I've memorized the curve of your cheek. The way your sapphire eyes glow with flecks of silver in the sunlight. The cute way you giggle when you eat something sweet. The way you raise your chin when you want to appear confident when really you're scared."

I swiped at the tears forming in my eyes.

"Don't do this," I whispered.

He took another step toward me, his hand reaching for me, the knuckles bloody and bruised. A reminder of the violence of the night, of what he was capable of, of why I should run and never look back.

"Dolcezza…"

I pointed at him. "No. You don't get to do this."

His brow furrowed, a lock of raven hair falling across his forehead, making him look almost boyish despite the danger that radiated from him. "Do what?"

I waved my hand in his direction, taking short, painful gasps. "Play the romantic hero who rescues the damsel in distress. You're not the hero in this story, Sebastian. You're the fucking villain. You used me for your own revenge plans. You've lied to me, countless times. You've put my life in danger, twice. But the worst part of all is…you…you made me…you made me…"

I sniffed and blinked back the tears that wouldn't stop, the salt stinging a small cut on my cheek. "You made me love you."