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Victoria looked at him, enthralled. This man, this confident—arrogant even—man with a devilish charm and attitude had gone through so much hardship. And at this moment she realized that she hadn’t even scratched the surface.

The crisscross patterns of the scars on his back and shoulders came to her mind, and then the other scars covering his perfectly bronzed skin. She remembered the conversation they had had about his scars. And when she’d asked him whether the scars on his shoulders were from rope burns. His answer had startled her then, and it broke her now.

Some of them, yes.

Because she suddenly understood what he meant by that. Every scar on his body had a story to tell. And it might take her a lifetime to learn every single one.

What other horrors were hidden in his past? And what other scars weren’t evident on his skin?

“Do not pity me, my princess,” he said with an easy smile. Victoria looked up at him and realized in horror that her throat was constricted, tears burning behind her eyes. Oh, God! How embarrassing. “It made me the man I am today.”

Victoria swallowed and shook her head. “I don’t pity you.”

William pursed his lips, suppressing a smile, then reached up to gently wipe away a stray tear trailing down her cheek.

Victoria started, not even realizing she had begun crying. William’s thumb brushed over her skin, catching the glimmering droplet.

Victoria let out a breath and wiped her face, to make certain no other tears betrayed her.

“I don’t,” she said emphatically. “I don’t pity you. But I do pity the little boy you were. I pity the child who had to steal in order to feed his sick mother. I pity the boy who had to grow up too fast once she died. I pity the boy whose father tossed him out like an unwanted pair of boots. And I pity the boy who had no other option but to steal and blackmail. But I do not pity the man you have become. Because no matter what life throws at you, you just seem to catch it and turn it around for your benefit.”

He spread his arms with a smile. “My past made me the man I am today. Without it, I wouldn’t be me. Although, I know you wish I were a duke’s legitimate son. Perhaps a duke myself.”

Victoria looked away with a frown.

She had wished it before. But she had met plenty of dukes… and none of them made her feel even a wisp of the excitement she felt when she was next to William.

She knew there was merit to William’s words. Without the hardships he’d endured, he wouldn’t be the man he was today. But how much of his personality and charm, how much of him was sculpted by his rough past, and how much was just inherently him?

Would she feel differently about him if he were born into a dukedom? Would he still be the same person he was now? Would she have ever fallen in love with him if he were a duke’s spoiled son?

Would she still love him if he wasn’t fully him? The questions gave her a slight headache, and she decided to shift the focus if only a little bit.

“What about the other people you’ve blackmailed?” she asked.

He seemed nonplussed. “What about them?”

“Well, you said your father was the first. How did it evolve?”

“There are things about my past I hope you’ll never know,” he said evenly. “There is a part of my life that I am not yet ready to share. But that past involves some powerful people who… let’s just say hurt a lot of children. And those people were next on my list. Then I moved on to others who were all rich and powerful aristocrats, but all people with dark pasts. People who had things to hide.”

“So, they were all bad people,” she surmised.

William shrugged. “They were bad to someone. But almost every one of us has at least once in our lives been bad to someone.”

“I haven’t been,” she answered easily. “Not to the point that you can blackmail me with it. What I am trying to say is that those people probably deserved it, too. You were on the side of their victims.”

He let out a scoff. “I am on my own side.”

“No,” Victoria hastened to add with an impish grin. “You’re like Robin Hood. Take from the rich, standing up for the poor.”

William let out a laugh and shook his head. “Victoria, I understand that it must be confusing for you to be married to a criminal. And after this morning, you’re probably trying to find justifications for why you would be attracted to someone like me. But do not mistake who I am, lubimaya. I am no hero. Never was, never will be.”

Chapter 20

Twenty days before the execution…

Victoria hummed an old Russian folk song under her breath as she rearranged the furniture in their bedchamber for possibly the dozenth time since she had moved into the tower.