Business had taken longer than Ramsay had expected. The whole night dragging, as his mind was filled with thoughts of (Y/n). He could still taste her on his lips. Could still feel her skin under his fingertips. And it was taking every ounce of the little self-control he had left, not to return to his small room, rip her clothes off and make her his, there and then.

He had been that distracted, that he had nearly missed something that could have landed him back in prison sooner than he had ever intended. Someone he trusted had become an informant for the cops. This new information, explaining why the gang had nearly been caught on a number of occasions, and why the cops had been one step ahead, despite the Kings Landing police all being clueless idiots. And if they had informed on him before, had they informed on him now? Were the cops on their way to the hideout at this very moment? If they were, he could lose (Y/n) forever. If they found him this time, he would be locked in the deepest darkest hell hole that Tywin Lannister could find, never to see the light of day again. Ramsay knowing well what a vindictive man the old lion was. And when it came to family, even though most of the time Tywin showed no care for his other children. Something like this can make a man do strange things. After all, he had kidnapped his daughter at gun point. Dragged her to a cat house in the middle of nowhere. To be surrounded by the kind of people, that would take great delight in killing her, before sending her back in bits to her father. If that didn't make Tywin Lannister want revenge, then nothing would.

Despite the feelings that (Y/n) seemed to have for him, Ramsay knew that if he was caught, Tywin would never let her see him again. And that would be a worse hell than anything that the other Lannisters or the local cops, could come up with. Life in the darkest cell would be easy, compared to losing her.

It was at that moment he came up with a plan, it was crazy, insane; it would never work, and surly (Y/n) would never agree. He had only known her a matter of days, not long enough for the scheme that was formulating in his brain to be taken seriously. But given what had happened earlier, he had to talk to her. To tell her what he thought.

Suddenly the doors flew open, as Skinner rushed in. The look on the bastard boy's face striking a strange fear into Ramsay's heart.

"Boss ya better come quick.... fuck.... ya ain't gonna like this. Lizzie's attacking the Lannister girl with a knife."

Before Skinner had time to finish, Ramsay was on his feet running through the house. He could hear the screams of the two women as he got closer. Two screams at least meaning that (Y/n) was still alive. As he got to the long hallway the screams ended, the deafening sound replaced by a gut wrenching bloody gurgle. Ramsay stopped; he knew that sound all too well. It was the sound of the last breaths of life leaving a body. It was the same sound he heard whenever he killed. The same sound that was normally like music to his ears. But this time made him want to be sick.

This noise, this noise broke him. He could feel his heart pound in his chest so violently that he thought it would break through his rib cage at any moment. Without warning, his leg fell weak, and he dropped to the floor. His hand on his chest desperately holding his heart in place.

He could feel his own scream build in the pit of his stomach, the pain that wracked his body was overwhelming. He had only just found (Y/n), yet he had already lost her. How could he have lost her? He was positive that he had locked the door; surly he was the only one that had the key? But no, Lizzie was a devious woman. She was the one that had just discovered was the informant. She was the one that had betrayed him, and now she had taken (Y/n) from him.

Ramsay struggled to his feet, gripping onto the wall for support, he was going to kill Lizzie in the slowest most painful way possible. He was going to make her suffer, suffer as much as he was doing at this very moment. And if Baelish dare complain about losing one of his best whores, Ramsay would kill him, too.

"Drag Lizzie from that room by her hair and bring her to me." Ramsay growled as the rest of his boys caught up to him. Skinner dutifully walking down the hallway and pushing open the door of the last room to retrieve Lizzie. Stopping as he saw the carnage.

"Boss. I think ya might want to see this, and I think ya better come quick." Skinner called out, looking over at his boss.

As quickly as he could Ramsay edged down the hall, his shoulder resting against the wall for support. Not sure that he wanted to see his lioness dead. But as he got to the door, he took a deep breath, summoning his courage before he turned to look into the room. There on the floor lay the lifeless body of Lizzie, a large knife protruding from her chest; and in the corner of the room huddled on the floor sat (Y/n). Her skin, hair and the thin sheet that was wrapped around her body, covered in sticky crimson liquid. Ramsay flying into the room and falling to his knees in front of (Y/n), before pulling her into his arms.

"S-s-s-she tried to kill me........s-s-she said if she couldn't have you then no one could..........she said she knew who I was, and that you should have killed me when you had the chance." (Y/n) told Ramsay as she clung onto him for dear life.

"She cut me." (Y/n) continued, as she showed him a large cut on her left arm that was bleeding profusely.

"Fetch the medical kit and go and check if Tybald is still with one of the girls." Ramsay barked out his orders. Watching as the man rushed off.

"Luton. Get rid of that bitch's body, I don't want (Y/n) having to see that anymore." Ramsay growled. His arms wrapping around her tighter, as he felt (Y/n) shake uncontrollably as shock began to rip through her body.

"Hey princess, stay with me, yeah. Ya gonna be ok. Maestre Tybald will fix ya up, and you will be as good as new....... Ya gonna tell me why ya only dressed in a sheet?" Ramsay asked, trying to keep her mind on something other than the dead body that was being dragged from the room.

"You.......you said you were coming back. And I....... I wanted to finish what we started." (Y/n) told him, looking up into gangsters worried eyes. Ramsay placing his hand under her chin as he leant down to kiss her on the lips.

"You and me. Well, we'll finish that when ya feel better. Just let the maestre sew ya up, and I'll look after ya, I promise. I should have never left ya alone. This is all my fault. I should have known that bitch would do something like this." Ramsay said, as he pulled (Y/n) back towards him, gripping on to her arm to stem the flow of blood. His eyes shooting up as the door to the room slowly opened. A man with horn rimmed glasses entered the room, clutching a big Gladstone bag.

"Tybald, I have a patient for ya, look after her or you'll answer to me." Ramsay hissed as he got to his feet, before he picked (Y/n) up in his arms, so that he could carry her out of the room.

"Find a room that the girls ain't used for business. Have one of them make it presentable so that (Y/n) can sleep in it." The gangster told Luton, who had just got back from disposing of Lizzie's body.

As maestre Tybald cleaned her wound, (Y/n) clung to Ramsay, not willing to let him go.

"It's not as deep as it looks sir, but it's still going to require a few stitches and it will leave a scar. You might want to hold onto the young lady, this will probably hurt a little." The maestre explained, as he fixed his needle.

"(Y/n), look at me." Ramsay hummed, as he pulled her head up so that they were face to face.

"Ya gonna have to not be a rich princess for a few minutes, and let the maestre finish the job, ok? I know you're soft and delicate, but man up." The criminal chuckled, trying to help her forget the pain as the needle slid through her skin.

"I'm no princess. And I'm not as soft and delicate as I look." (Y/n) retorted, as she winced feeling the suture being pulled through her skin.

"Yeah, I can see that." Ramsay told her, chuckling again at the sight of her grimacing face, and the feel of her hand gripping onto his shirt.

"Well, that's as much as I can do." The maestre said, as he cut the final suture.

"May I suggest that the young lady bathe? I don't want this wound getting infected. And she needs to rest. I could ask one of the young ladies to help if you like sir." Tybald added, as he wrapped fresh gauze around the wound, and then cleaned away his equipment.

"No! I'll take care of her. I'm not letting anyone else near her. And I've had enough wounds of my own, so I know what to do." Ramsay explained. Seeing the slight look of trepidation in (Y/n)'s eyes at the thought of having another one of the women in the room with her.

"Just get one of the girls to draw the bath, and I'll fix everything else." Ramsay continued. The maestre nodding as he left the room.

"Can you tell me what happened princess?" The gangster asked, as he sat on the sofa next to her, holding her close to his side.

"I......I heard the door unlock, and I thought it was you coming back, but then she pushed her way in. She said that she knew who I was and that people like me deserved to die. And that you should have killed me and done everyone a favour." (Y/n) gulped, as flashes of what just happened invaded her mind.

"She said that I meant nothing to you, and that if she couldn't have you then no one could. Then she attacked me with the knife, everything is a little blurry after that. I remember her slapping me, then I punched her in the nose; and she cut my arm with the knife. Somehow, I got the blade off her and she rushed at me. And......and then she was on the floor. I didn't have a choice, Ramsay; you must believe me. She was going to kill me, it was an accident, I swear." (Y/n) cried, as Ramsay pulled her into his chest and kissed the top of her head reassuringly.

"I know princess. I know what it's like to be pushed into a corner, leaving you with no other option than to kill before your killed. You can't corner a wild animal and not expect it to go for your throat." He assured. As (Y/n) gripped him tighter.

"I should have known it wasn't you that was dead, your too damn tough and stubborn to die on anything but your own terms. You're a Lannister. They don't go down easily." Ramsay joked, eliciting a small laugh from (Y/n).

"And don't you forget it! I may look soft and delicate, but don't let the spoilt little rich girl thing fool you. I told you, you aren't the only one noble and rich families of Kings Landing helped create." (Y/n) chuckled, looking up into Ramsay's confused eyes.

"What do you mean (Y/n)? You are nothing like me, I'm a freak, a murderer, created by an uncaring father that pushed me too far. Then when I took my life back, I was condemned." Ramsay said, taking her face in his larger hands.

"You are not a freak. I know that if it was me under similar circumstances. That if my father had done to me what Roose did to you. I would probably have done the same. We aren't all that dissimilar you and I, Ramsay. I love my father, and I know, despite everything, he loves me. But that does not mean that my life has been a bed of roses. My father can be possessive, demanding and cruel. It's hard to live up to all his expectations. Especially as a woman. And more so when I don't believe in most of the things he does. And I knew that sooner or later, he would sell me off just like he did my older sister, so that he can further the wealth and power of the Lannister name. So, I had to make myself indispensable. Had to learn everything so that he would be afraid of losing me." (Y/n) said, looking down at the bandage in her arm. Ramsay unable to say anything in reply, as a young girl popped her head around the door.

"Sir. The water is ready for your lady." She told him, before disappearing as quickly as she appeared.

"Come on princess, let's get ya washed up." Ramsay said, as he picked up (Y/n) and made his way to the bathroom.

"You do know that I am perfectly capable of walking and bathing myself, don't you?" (Y/n) asked, as she threw her arm around his neck to steady herself.

"And how are ya gonna wash all that crap off? Ya only have one good arm smart ass? You can't get that wound wet, and if ya move it too much, ya could pop the maestre's stitches. I ain't putting up with you being a princess again, while he puts another one in. So, ya gonna have to put up with me doing it. And if ya play ya cards right sweetheart, you might actually enjoy it." Ramsay replied with a smirk, as her eyes shot up to meet his.

"You mean we get to finish what we started?" (Y/n) enquired, as she twirled a strand of his thick brown hair between her fingers, smiling widely at the grinning gangster.

"Princess, it's not how you start, it how you finish. And it's gonna be one hell of a finish I can promise you that." Ramsay chuckled as he kicked open the door to the bathroom.

"Don't make a lady promises you can't live up to, Bolton." (Y/n) giggled, as she saw the dark look in his eyes.

"I'll show you who can't live up to it." Ramsay growled seductively, as he placed her carefully on the floor.

"Now take off the sheet and get in the tub, so I can work my wonders."