A/N: Hello everyone! I know I said I wouldn't post till well within this week but I thought I'd surprise you since I had some time. This is the chapter about Seb's secrets. There had been plenty of speculation about what it could be. I think one or two had guessed it although this chapter would expound it a whole lot more. I'm glad it wasn't too easy to guess but also not to far-fetched that no one ever thought of it. =)

I hope you guys continue to vote and comment. I really appreciate it. 

Enjoy!

***

The trip to Scarsdale, New York was turning out to be quite surreal.

For one, we took Skylark, the sleek Boeing private jet Sebastian owned—it was tripped up with the most luxurious furnishings and amenities one could only dream of including a Jacuzzi and a home theater.

Sebastian didn’t seem fazed by it as Captain Mercer came out to greet us and chat with him about business while I wandered around inside the customized cabin, marveling at the expensive and sophisticated touches and the small staff catering to our every comfort that bespoke just how ridiculously wealthy Sebastian Vice was.

I knew he was rich—his wealth and social status had always intimidated me when I remembered them—but standing inside his private jet hit me with the realization that until now, I really had no idea just how vast his fortune was.

I don’t even think I’ve ever really looked closely.

I know The Vice Group was one of the largest and most powerful companies in the world known for its excellent collection of businesses dealing in different industries and trades and Sebastian owning it gave him a pretty hefty paycheck. I knew pretty much all of the jars he had his fingers in, working as a business analyst at TVG. I know he owned three homes for sure—Cove Manor, the Rockford penthouse and Italian villa he’d mentioned in passing. I know he had two pleasure crafts—a megayacht named after his mother, Marianna, and a smaller, speedier one named after his sister, Alexandra. I know he had some planes. I know he had a few cars. I know he had a small army of security headed by Jennison who was his bodyguard/chauffeur/personal assistant/advisor. I know he purchased businesses and houses for me like he was picking me up some treats to bring home. 

But those were all that I directly saw and knew about. 

If what Sebastian said to me this morning was true, that he wanted to spend his life with me, it wouldn’t do that I didn’t fully realize just what kind of life it was that he was asking me to share with him. And maybe I should start having a fairly good idea about it if I were to give him an answer about moving in with him after this weekend.

“Just how rich are you?” I asked bluntly as he joined me in the master suite a few minutes later. 

I had just set down my small suitcase on the floor and sat primly on the corner of the bed, almost anxious that I would somehow wrinkle this impeccably arranged room that could rival the best suite in a five-star hotel. His rooms in both of his residences were well-appointed but this was in a plane, for God’s sake. Comfort was one thing but this was plain, simple luxury.

Sebastian quirked a brow at me in amusement. “Considering you’re in business planning, I’d assumed you’ve already done all your research on my net worth.”

I bristled. “I sometimes research companies, not people—well, not their personal habits and lifestyle anyway. Besides, in the four years I was trying to forget you, I resisted looking you up for any reason at all.”

“You weren’t even curious?” he teased as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the bed. 

“Of course, I was curious about everything about you but it was hardly going to help me get over you if I constantly devoured any bit of info I could find,” I snapped irritably. “And to be honest, it didn’t really sink in on me who you were to the world until much later. For a while, I mostly only thought of you as the guy I disastrously fell in love with that summer.”

His expression softening, Sebastian wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, leaning his head down against mine. “That’s probably one of the reasons I fell hard for you, darling. Because you actually knew the person I was, as unpleasant as I could be sometimes, rather than the public figure everyone is so fascinated with.”

I slipped my hand around his neck, fingering the collar of his shirt. “But that public figure is a part of you, Sebastian. And being with you now, like this, out in the real world, demands that I deal with both sides of you. I can manage it most of the time but I must admit, there are times when it overwhelms me a bit.”

“My wealth is a part of my life I don’t intend to give up,” Sebastian said gently as he tucked an errant lock of hair behind my ear. “It allows me to take care of you like I can now. It allows me to do a lot of things that can make a difference. But money is just money. I will not risk you for it.”

I smiled. “It’s a lot of money. So, answer me. Just how rich are you?”

It was probably a crude thing to ask other people in normal circumstances but I trusted that Sebastian knew me well enough to understand that my question did not originate from greed.

“Rich enough,” he said with a grin. 

“Rich enough to own a private jet and some boats and a couple of palatial houses?” I pressed with an arched brow. 

He sighed and pressed feathery kisses along my jaw. “Fine. Quite rich then.”

I laughed weakly and tilted my head back to allow him access to my neck. “Hmm... I’d probably say, too rich.”

His head pulled back slightly, his searing green eyes scanning my face with concern. “Does it bother you, Cassandra? The fact that I’m rich?”

I bit my lip. “Sometimes. I come to you with not very much. I sometimes don’t know what else I could give you that you couldn’t buy yourself.”

“Don’t be silly,” he chided softly. “You give me plenty of what I can never even shop for anywhere else. You give me your smiles, your laughter, your friendship, your love, your passion. They make me a rich man in a completely different way.”

“Sure,” I said disbelievingly. “I bet you’ve never acquired a company by paying for it in smiles.”

He threw his head back laughing. “True, I haven’t, but that’s why the riches you give me are rare and special. They only feel like reward to someone who loves and worships you so.”

My heart tugged with a sweet, heavy ache as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and brushed the tip of my nose against his chin. “You don’t mind terribly that I’m not rich like you?”

“Why would you even think of such nonsense?” he said in a slightly exasperated voice. “I don’t need anything from you but yourself, Cassandra. I don’t need any more money. I have plenty of it and everything I have is yours, do you understand?”

The fierce expression on his face sent a warm thrill straight down my gut. “I’m just your girlfriend, Sebastian. You shouldn’t be so hasty in—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Cassandra,” he nearly growled, his mouth curling down grimly. “Girlfriend is merely a temporary term that barely covers what you are to me. In my heart and in my mind, you are my wife—at least until I can convince you to be one in paper too.”

My mouth opened to say something—anything—to fill the sudden silence that stretch between us but I couldn’t make a sound.

The conviction in Sebastian’s voice and expression was almost palpable in the air and his declaration thrilled and terrified me at the same time.

“Don’t attempt to give me an answer now,” he finally said with a sigh, his eyes closing briefly. “It’s not fair to expect one from you until you’ve learned what we’ve come to Scarsdale for.”

I touched a trembling hand to his cheek. “Sebastian...”

“It’s alright,” he murmured softly, pressing a kiss between my brows, on the tip of my nose and on my lips. “Whatever happens this weekend, whatever your choice is, no matter how painful, I will respect it. Because I’ve found that you were right when you said you couldn’t love half a man, Cassandra. I want you to love all of me—even the parts that deserve none of it.”

“I love you enough as it is,” I whispered in a small voice, kissing his chin. “There’s no need to prove anything to me.”

“There is,” he said calmly although a slight tremor betrayed his anxiety. “Until you know exactly what kind of man I am, you’ll never be fully certain of whether you want to be with me for life or not. And that’s how I need you, my love—as my wife, for the rest of our lives together. Do you understand?”

I nodded and pressed closer within in his arms.

I wasn’t afraid of what I would learn—I was certain of how I felt for him and what that meant for us.

What I was afraid of was that Sebastian would find another reason to believe he deserved none of the happiness that’s within his reach and push me away once again.

***

The drive to our destination was scenic—Scarsdale, New York was like a story book village with the old world charm of historic houses and buildings, old, lush trees and a slower pace of life.

A lot of new seemed to be getting mixed in with the old but it was simply enchanting.

I asked some questions during the drive and Sebastian gave me brief, matter-of-fact answers without a hint of warmth or familiarity.

As charming as everything was, something in this small village was a dark, angry place in Sebastian’s heart.

We drove through the suburbs until we started rolling up a road on a hill thickly covered by a canopy of trees that wove intricate shadow patterns over us.

We stopped in front of a wide, wrought-iron gate at the beginning of what appeared to be a long drive that curved and disappeared around a grove of trees and a plain-clothes security personnel nodded at Jennison who poked his head out of the driver’s seat in greeting.

“Welcome to Westerra Hall,” Sebastian murmured as he tensed slightly the moment the car followed the turn around the trees to reveal another stretch of road that led up to a circular driveway wrapped around a magnificent tiered stone fountain. It stood proudly across from a stunning English stone manor that resembled a small castle with the crenellated edges of what looked like a small keep that functioned as the imposing front entrance. It looked like it was plucked straight out of the English countryside with the lush border of trees in the distance that secluded the estate from the rest of the world.

“Baby?” Sebastian prompted as he extended a hand to help me down from the car.

I blinked out of my mesmerized daze and saw that he and Jennison were already waiting for me while I was frozen on the spot the moment my eyes filled with the glorious countryside around us.

“Whose house is this?” I asked in a whisper as if somehow being overheard would snap me out of this daydream. 

A small smile twitched at the corner of Sebastian’s mouth. “My family’s. This was our original home, when my parents married and decided to live permanently in America. I was born here.”

I slowly turned around after we stepped into the vast foyer, taking in the warm, grand interior that spoke of wealth and luxury. 

“How long did you live here?” I asked as I took in the intricate moldings and carvings on the rich wood panels and trim work of the coffered ceilings.

“Until I was about five,” was Sebastian’s short reply and I looked up and found a scowl starting to wrinkle between his brows. “Cove Manor's expansion had been finished then and we moved there so my father could be closer to the newly established corporate office in Cobalt Bay.”

I opened my mouth to ask more but a middle-aged man with silver hair emerged from one of the halls and did a shallow bow. “Master Sebastian, welcome. I apologize for the delay. An urgent matter required my immediate attention.”

“It’s alright, Egbert,” Sebastian said with a casual nod back. “Darling, this is Egbert, our butler. Egbert, this is Ms. Cassandra Collins.”

“Hello,” I greeted warmly as I smiled and extended a hand to shake that of the aging butler who seemed startled at my gesture. Just like Sebastian, he carried a faint British accent. “It’s nice to meet you, Egbert. I’m very excited to be here.”

The butler managed a brief nod before casting a meaningful glance at his employer that I couldn’t quite figure out.

“Jennison’s already gone up with our luggage,” Sebastian said, gesturing to the stairs. “We’ll be out for a walk. Please make sure dinner is ready when we get back in an hour or so.”

“I shall see to it. Ms. Collins, welcome. May your stay be pleasant,” Egbert said somberly before affecting another respectful bow and turning to head back down the hallway.

“Master Sebastian?” I asked, glancing at Sebastian with a wry smile. “Just how many butlers and houses do you have?”

He just shrugged. “I only have two butlers—Percy, who moved from Cove Manor to Rockford because he could work in a variety of roles, and Egbert who came with my mother whose family his own had served for generations. I have other properties but I rarely visit so a housekeeper sufficed in simply keeping them running.”

I glanced around the grand foyer and found the emptiness eerie. Westerra Hall was bigger than Cove Manor but it seemed devoid of human presence except for the lone butler. To maintain a house like this, it must require a sizeable staff. 

“Do you come here often?”

The slight stiffening of Sebastian’s shoulders was hard to miss. 

I patiently waited as he took a moment to ease off the impulse to escape. He took in a steadying breath and offered his arm to me. “Come with me for a walk, darling. It’s beautiful outside.”

It was.

The walk through the main floor of the house was curious and interesting with the opulence and charm that touched every single detail of the interior. Stepping out to the large stone patio, the vast size of the property became more prominent. Land stretched past the large covered pool lounge and multi-level gardens and disappeared into a thick grove of tall, very old trees in the distance. It would’ve been splendid and lovely in the summer but in the late fall, most of the plants and trees had already lost their leaves and the scraggly, bare branches and gnarled trunks set against the backdrop of a dusky, dark gray sky lent the scene an almost macabre effect.

I shuddered slightly and Sebastian paused to glance down at me, his expression so hard and inscrutable it made him seem like a stone sculpture.

“What is it?” he asked, the muscles in his arm where I’d entwined mine tightening with tension. “Are you frightened?”

My brow raised. “Should I be?”

His deep green eyes gazed at me for a moment before his lips pressed into a thin line. “Westerra Hall may seem picturesque but it’s not... it’s not a good place. The past is what I brought you here for. It’s the last thing I want to you be a part of but I want no secrets between us anymore.”

A rush of joy shot through me. After many frustrating years of fervent hope that I could strike down each wall that protected Sebastian, he was finally taking my hand and letting me in through the door.

I squeezed his arm and smiled. “Tell me then. Tell me everything.”

We walked along the cobbled path that wound through the expanse of the estate grounds, moving towards the woods.

“My mother loved my father and had hoped that in marrying him, she would have a chance to make him love her and her only. She couldn’t have been more wrong.”

“Even in my earliest memories, I remember that my father was rarely around. Mother would always say he was busy with work but I saw him one time, with one of his women,” Sebastian said in a grave voice, glancing at me briefly. “I told you about this, four years ago. Do your remember?”

I nodded.

I remembered him telling me that when he was only four or five, he’d walked in on his father saddling a woman in his lap in his office and that young as he was, he didn’t know what his father was doing except that it must have been very wrong and he’d rushed off to his mother. Even at that age, he knew telling his mother would only hurt her more so he had kept it to himself.

“Cove Manor was our summer house but my mother had it expanded to become our permanent home. When it was finally finished, my mother was excited to move,” he continued stiffly. “I think she was excited by the idea that moving our family to a new house on the other side of the country would give my father the fresh start she was desperate for him to have. We moved in the summer but my father was still barely around. He would still be called away a lot on trips.”

“That year, I was to turn six in October and my mother learned that my father was staying here in Westerra Hall. I wanted him to be there on my birthday and begged my mother for us to come and see him and because she loved me so much, she couldn’t say no.”

We’d stopped by a clearing beyond the woods that revealed a small, private lake with a serene greenish gray surface. On the other side of it, a small but charming cabin stood, sheltered by the thick grove of trees.

“My father was furious to find us at the door and he’d yelled at my mother for some time about how inconvenient our presence was and how we always got in the way of his work and all that crap,” Sebastian said coldly, squinting at the cabin almost in contempt. “My mother kept to herself in her room and cried all day.”

“I had my own room but I stayed with her that night because she’d been so sad. She’d slipped out some time that night and because I worried that she’d be scared in the dark and get lost, I followed her.”

I shivered because the frail composure that’s been holding Sebastian together was fast crumbling.

His shoulders were rigid, his jaw clenched and his eyes were a blazing green—full of raw, unconsolable anguish.

If I could hold his soul together for him, ease the guilt and sorrow that he wore like a chain of spikes over his shoulders, wrap my arms around him and let him know it was okay to let go, I would, at whatever price, because whatever his sins may be, Sebastian deserved better than the punishment he seemed intent on suffering.

“I wasn’t scared of the dark or the fact that I was following my mother through the woods in the middle of the night,” Sebastian said with a ragged exhalation of breath. “I followed her as she approached the cabin which had been dimly lit from the inside. The cabin was very rarely used.”

Dread clutched at my insides but I held myself back from speaking.

“There was a lot of shouting so I ran as fast as I could, bolting through the door.” Sebastian paused, seeming to need a moment to find the strength to continue. When he did, the silent fury brewing under the surface was unmistakable. “My father was there, shirtless and disheveled while a woman wrapped in sheets was getting hysterical.”

“It was like watching a scene from a movie that for a moment I felt detached as everything happened in front of me,” Sebastian said in a rasp whisper, tilting his head up to gaze at the cabin once again. 

I raised my other hand, almost about to stop him from carrying on if it hurt him so much, but I froze at the next words he spoke.

“My mother lifted a gun out of her pocket and shot the woman in the chest. She was propelled back on the bed in a dramatic wash of blood. My mother swung the gun with a trembling hand over to my father and fired but only clipped him on the arm. He knocked her over and the gun flew out of her hand. I screamed and she turned to me, her eyes wide and her face white like a ghost. She scooped me up in her arms and rushed to the door but as I clung to her, sobbing over her shoulder, I watched my father raise the gun and fire, piercing my mother’s back and  myself just below the collarbone. She stumbled over and for a long, silent moment, I was lying on my back, under my mother’s weight, my body soaking with our mixed blood and my face and neck damp from the tears on her face. It felt like eternity as I listened to her gasping breaths and the blood and life gurgling out of her body before I passed out.”

I had no words.

It felt like a hole opened in my gut and my heart plummeted into it and I was struggling for breath.

Dear God. 

Sebastian, all but just six years old, witnessing his mother’s murder of her husband’s lover and her own death at his father’s hands.

How does a young child recover from that?

“Some say that people sometimes forget exactly what happened because they don’t want to remember,” he murmured in a wearily. “I don’t want to either but for some reason, everything that happened that night is vivid and intact in my memory. It would’ve been too much of a kindness for me to forget.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them and I stepped in front of Sebastian, my arms slipping over his, my trembling fingers clutching him to me. 

“Sebastian...” My voice trailed off as I grasped for words to say—words that might soothe his pain, mend his spirit back, maybe make him forget—because it became obvious that for twenty eight years, the memories of that night had been his prison.

“So you see why I didn’t want you to be with me in the beginning,” he continued, his voice rasping thickly. “I have murder in my blood and I could hurt you just as easily as my parents hurt each other. I’d die before I let that happen but it doesn’t mean I don’t think about it all the time.”

“Oh, darling, don’t. Please,” I begged, pressing my cheek against his chest that was heaving with emotion. “Your parents’ actions are their own. You’ll never hurt me like that.”

His arms wrapped around me as he pulled me closer, holding me so tightly I feared we would both burst.

“I love you. God, I love you so much,” he chanted by my ear, loosening his hold slightly to press rough, frantic kisses along my jaw. “Despite my fears, not being with you is a far cruder hell than the one I’ve lived with for years.”

“I will always be with you, Sebastian,” I promised, smiling through my tears and pulling away slightly to look at his own wet face and achingly haunting green eyes. “We will never be like your parents because we love and cherish each other. You don’t ever have to worry about that.”

Guilt clouded his face and he stepped back unsteadily. “Before you make me promises, you have to hear everything, Cassandra. Everything.”

I pressed  my lips together to keep myself from telling him that I didn’t care about anything else at this point. He clearly needed to empty himself of the past and I had to let him.

“When I awoke days later, I was in my bedroom, cleaned and stitched up by the doctor,” he said, pacing a slow circle. “I wasn’t spared a few seconds of oblivion—everything came crashing back to me and I lost it, screaming and thrashing around trying to get out of bed.”

“Alfred came in and ordered the maids who were holding me down to let me go and leave the room. When they did, I bolted for the door but Alfred caught me by the collar and hauled me over to his lap as he sat by the bed, holding me as I sobbed and struggled to get free.”

“When I wore myself out, he still held me and quietly told me that my mother was gone and it would worry her if I wasn’t behaving as she’d always asked me to.” A crooked, pained smile turned up the corner of Sebastian’s mouth. “Alfred was always kind to me and my mother and I believed him. So I stopped crying. I also stopped talking.”

I bit my lower lip in understanding of his last statement.

He ran an agitated hand through his hair, pulling slightly as he continued with his story. “He told me we were flying back to Cobalt Bay and that we would bury my mother there, where she’d been happy. It was only the two of us at the funeral. I stayed in Cove Manor and Alfred visited me every day, just spending time with me even though I didn’t say a word.”

“I didn’t see my father until six months later, when he came to see me. Everything had been nicely swept under the rug then, anyone involved paid handsomely for their discretion.” Sebastian’s expression grew harsh at the memory. “Later, when I was older, I understood that my father was found not guilty for my mother’s death in declaring it a matter of self-defense. I hated him and saw him as no one but my mother’s murderer. He had been staring into my eyes as he shot us. He deserved to rot in jail for it.”

I thought of the own death Marianna Vice had sentenced the other woman to but decided not to point it out—despite his mother’s actions, Sebastian would always see her as the victim with all the years of neglect and infidelity she’d suffered during her marriage before the final blow.

“For the next year and a half, my father stayed away from me—maybe because he couldn’t stand the sight of me or maybe because of his guilt. It’s hard to know,” he said with a bitter scoff. “I spent that time in Alfred’s company and those of the many therapists and tutors my father flung at me to get me back to speech.”

“He showed up at Cove Manor one day with a new wife—Brenda, and her ten-year-old son Jared. Apparently, he thought I could use a mother figure but Brenda was no mother.” 

The contempt on Sebastian’s face was clear at the thought of his stepmother.

“In a matter of months, she decided I was making it hard for her to start her new life in Cove Manor so she talked my father into sending me off to a special needs school abroad. Alfred moved back to the London headquarters so he could keep an eye on me.”

I secretly said a silent prayer in gratitude for Alfred, without whom Sebastian may have long given up his humanity.

“A year later, my father and Brenda visited to see how I was doing. I still wasn’t talking then,” Sebastian said gruffly. “But when Brenda sat across from me, I saw that she was wearing my mother’s antique pearl and emerald earrings. She and my father were stunned speechless when I held my hand out and demanded them back, saying that she had no right to them.”

Sebastian laughed at the pun but it came out grating as if he were disgusted and amused at the same time. 

“My father made her give them to me and she’d declared war on me since then. But my father was pleased that I was talking again so he didn’t care. He felt that his job was done with me. He left me alone for a while.”

“When I was eleven, Brenda had the twins. Anyone who’d met her and my father will tell you that the twins are not their children together but my father didn’t care. He claimed them. He couldn’t be bothered about his wife’s infidelities. He had been long back at it as if my mother’s and his mistress’s deaths never happened.”

I watched Sebastian’s gaze linger at the cabin before he swung back to pick up some small rocks he started hurling into the lake, disturbing the still, glassy surface. 

“I stayed in London until I was eighteen, when I was summoned back,” he finally continued, shoving his hair away from his forehead. “My father was ill. I barely asked about him throughout the years but Alfred would occasionally tell me a thing or two when I couldn’t make it out of the door fast enough. He’d started having episodes years before, howling through the house and rushing out of the rooms or through the forest screaming that my mother was after him. I thought at first he deserved every bit of torment his conscience dealt him. But he finally went over the edge and was officially declared clinically insane.”

Sebastian glanced at me uncertainly. “If murder isn’t in my blood, madness is. How can you love me?”

A smile tugged at my lips. “I doubt that it’s hereditary but I’ll take the risk. I can love you because I do. There’s not a specific how or why to it.”

He managed a relieved smile back before reaching for my arm and looping it through is before we started back for the house.

“My father was so out of it the lawyers had no choice but to proceed in carrying out his living will,” Sebastian went on after a stretch of silence as we resumed our walk. “I took over the company. I wouldn’t have been able to do it if not for Alfred’s help.”

I rested my head against his arm. “When did he die?”

Sebastian stiffened. “He didn’t.”

Halting to a stop, I looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

A long groan answered me at first.

“My father is still alive.”

I blinked. “What?”

Sebastian glanced up at the house that we were now again quickly approaching. “Gregory Vice is still alive but he’s been confined here in Westerra Hall for the last sixteen years—a fact known to only a few people, now you included.”

My heart fluttered uneasily as the gears in my brain shifted and clicked into different places. “He’s alive... Wait, is it—when you disappeared on your birthday, did that have anything—did something happen to your father that you had to leave all of a sudden?”

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, Sebastian kneaded the spot between his brows. “Yes. He escaped the staff and headed towards the lake. But he went past it and the cabin, continuing on deeper into the woods. A mad coyote came upon him and attacked him to an inch of his life. He was literally a bloody mess when the guards found him.”

My jaw hung open as I glanced over my shoulder to the woods where we’d just come from. “He was attacked in the same woods we’d just left?”

“Don’t worry, the coyote had been found and put down and there are armed guards that roam the estate,” Sebastian reassured me. “And I always carry a knife with me. I hate guns.”

Knowing the role they’d played in his horrific childhood, I understood why.

Frowning, I touched Sebastian’s arm. “That’s not what I was worried about. I wasn’t sure what going there would do to you—a place where you watched your mother die and where your father came close to his own death as well.”

A harsh, ironic laugh escaped him. “I wouldn’t lose sleep over my father’s death. In fact, for years, I’d thought it would be the best thing but it never happened. Natalie flew with me to check on him, bringing a surgeon with us. She’s one of the very small team of doctors who knows about my father. They attend to his medical needs without the inconvenience of taking him to a hospital. The house is equipped with all the necessary amenities to function as one.”

I fought the tendril of jealousy that slowly slipped around my heart. Natalie had gone here with him in the capacity of a family friend and doctor and that was all there was to it.

“He lost a lot of blood and he was going to die if he didn’t receive transfusion,” Sebastian continued as we arrived at the house. “He’s a blood type O positive and can only receive transfusion from another type O. I was his only living relative with the same blood type. The twins are definitely not his. When Natalie asked me to donate my blood, I said no.”

I winced at the vicious expression on Sebastian’s face as he pulled away from me and walked to one of the windows of the empty parlor. 

“I finally had his life in my hands—the man who murdered my mother and turned her into a murderer herself—and I could exact my revenge with a simple act of refusal,” Sebastian ground out, his voice trembling with building tension. “All I had to do was stand back and wait for him to die.”

“Oh, Sebastian,” I whispered, seeing that despite his anger, he was torn between his revenge and his conscience. 

The face that turned back to me was as cold and impassive as a stone statue. “I was going to let my own father die, Cassandra. I could save him but I chose to let him die, coming full circle and becoming a murderer like him as well.”

“Natalie was furious with me and called in to find him the necessary blood supply but it was going to take hours—hours he didn’t have,” he continued darkly. “I told her I would be in the library and that I only wished to be disturbed when it was over.”

Tears stung my eyes and I stubbornly blinked them back.

“I sat there in the dark and silence of the same library where I walked in on him many years ago, fucking a woman who wasn’t his wife, and reminded myself of the many reasons he deserved this death,” Sebastian said, turning away slightly as if in shame. “Then the longer I sat there, the more I thought about how it was soon going to be over—that I could return home to you, free from the past, free to be happy. I thought about your smile, your laughter, the way your lips felt against mine, the way your body danced with mine when we made love. I thought about your goodness, your fierce sense of loyalty, the way you believed in me when I was being horrible to you four years ago and even recently.”

He dragged in a deep, loud breath as if tortured. “It quickly became obvious that if I was going to deserve you, I had to be the man you believed me to be—and that man didn’t let his father die, no matter how much he deserved it.”

A tremulous smile broke through my quivering, pressed lips. 

“I consented to the blood transfusion and he lived—not because I wanted him to but because I wanted to be a good man for you. I’ve already lost so much in my life because of him. I refuse to let him take you away from me too.”

I walked to him and slipped my arms around his waist, pulling him close. “Whatever the reasons may be, I’m glad you did what you did. Not because of what I think of you but because of what you think of yourself. Any judgement from me couldn’t do more damage than your own, Sebastian. You’re angry but you’re not evil and you would’ve hated yourself for it if you let him die.”

He closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of my head, saying nothing.

We stayed like that for a long time until Sebastian took a deep, releasing breath and pulled away, catching my hand. “Let’s go get settled in before we have dinner.”

I followed him up the stairs. “Will I meet him?”

Sebastian paused, his eyes flickering uncertainly. “Do you want to?”

Nodding, I walked up to catch up with him, squeezing his hand. “If you don’t mind.”

His lips pressed into a grim line. “He’s in pretty rough shape. He’s also still in a coma.”

“I don’t care,” I reassured him. “You brought me this far I imagine you wanted me to meet him somehow.”

“Tomorrow then,” he answered with a stiff nod. “Tonight, we’ll dine and rest and enjoy the country. Despite its sordid past, Westerra Hall is a beautiful home.”

I could tell that Sebastian still held a fondness for the place and that if it had not been for his father living here, he wouldn’t have detached himself from his family’s estate despite the painful memories.

Smiling softly, I raised myself on my toes and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Alright. Lead the way to our room.”

An hour later, we were seated along a twenty-seater table in the warm yet richly appointed dining room. Sebastian didn’t sit at the head of the table. We both sat on each side of it, facing each other. Egbert had organized a formal five-course meal that while a bit ceremonious, was delicious and comforting.

After dinner, Sebastian led me to the library that served as the office as well, exploring the towering, floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with books. We fed the fireplace some chopped wood which burned slowly while we snuggled in the enormous dark blue suede couch, reading from a rare, leather-bound first edition of Robert Burns’s poems.

The house was quiet and cozy despite its size and Sebastian’s subdued, brooding mood was both seductive and affecting.

When we retired to our room—his old bedroom which was still spacious for the young boy he’d been; the only change had been the king-sized bed. He said nothing as he took me into his arms, kissing me swiftly and deeply as he tugged and pulled my clothes away.

That night, he made love to me with rough, desperate abandon—making no sound except for his deep moans and guttural cries as he hammered his tumultuous emotions away with every thrust into my body.

His roughness excited me as usual but it was the vulnerability in his eyes and his fraying control that swamped my heart with aching tenderness. 

We drifted into sleep almost right after we collapsed on the bed in ragged gasps, Sebastian pulling me close to hold me in his arms.

It must’ve been way past midnight when the hoarse cries startled me awake.

I sat up in bed and listened for a second before the rustling of the sheets and the quivering of the bed drew my attention to my side. I groped for the lamp shade on the nightstand and blinked a few times as warm, milky light filled part of the room. 

“Sebastian,” I breathed in alarm when I saw him writhing in bed, sweat beading on his forehead, his body curled inward like a small child, his face contorting in varying expressions of fear and panic.

I reached out to grab his shoulder but he flinched and tossed over to the other side one more, his entire body shaking. 

He was muttering unintelligibly between gasping cries of “Mama!”

My heart twisted but I steeled myself and grabbed Sebastian by the arm, rocking him awake as hard as I could.

“Sebastian, wake up, it’s okay,” I murmured to him, shaking him further and pushing the hair out of his eyes. “Darling, it’s me. You’re okay.”

He was still delirious that I started to panic for real. 

Sebastian was a very deep sleeper and if he was caught in a nightmare, it was going to take a lot to snap him out of it.

Biting my lip, I braced myself and smacked his cheek with my hand twice until he started and suddenly sprang up in bed, panting heavily.

“Wha.. I... Cassandra?” he asked in a small, shaky voice as his green eyes turned to me, glittering with fear. “Did I hurt you?”

I shook my head. “No.”

He squinted, wiped a hand down his face and reached out to brush a lock of hair away from my face. “Then why are you crying?”

I didn’t even realize that I was but I swiped the back of my hand across my wet cheeks and took a deep breath. “You were having a nightmare, Sebastian. You were crying out for your mother.”

His forehead creased with a deep, dark frown, his eyes flickering with anguish and helplessness.

He sighed and pressed back against the pillows, kneading his temples. “The nightmares stopped years ago. I only get them now when I stay here.”

“We don’t have to stay if it torments you like this,” I said quietly, smoothing a hand up and down his thigh under the sheets in an attempt at comfort. “We could stay in a hotel or something for the rest of the weekend.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. I’ll manage. I’ve lived with the nightmares for so long it felt strange to me when I suddenly stopped having them.”

“When did they stop?”

Lifting his eyes to me, he said, “Four years ago.”

Something stirred inside of me and I crawled my way to Sebastian, snuggling up against his bare chest as he put an arm around me. 

“We can stay here but it might be best if I put you in a guest bedroom,” he said grimly. “I’ve been told I could get a bit violent when I’m caught in the grips of the nightmares and I don’t want to hurt you.”

I gave him a firm shake of my head. “No, I’m staying with you. I’ll wake you up when you have one but I’m not going anywhere.”

“Cassandra...”

“Do you want me to smack you again to prove to you that I can wake you up just fine?” I asked tartly, glancing up at him with an arched brow.

Reluctantly, he smiled and rubbed his cheek. “Do you know you’re the only female I know who’d ever slapped me?”

Crookedly, I smiled back. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You never were, were you?” he asked, tilting his head to one side in thought. “Even from the very beginning, when your virtue was practically awarded to me by your sleazy cousin.”

I shrugged. “I know I should’ve been but you didn’t really frighten me. Only a couple of times did I start to feel it but most of the time, I felt daring around you. You bring out the reckless in me.”

The arm around my neck slipped down on my back and his hand slipped under my shoulder to cup my breast through the thin cotton of my tank top. “I like you reckless with me.”

We spent the hours before dawn making slow, sweet love until we were so tired we couldn’t move anymore. 

It was late morning when we got up and Sebastian rang for breakfast to be brought into the bedroom.

We showered after breakfast and I was just rummaging through my luggage when Sebastian took two large gift boxes from the closet and handed them to me.

I gave him a curious glance before looking inside and pulling the garments out.

There were stretchy, light khaki pants that looked like to be breeches, a tailored white linen shirt and a hunter green tweed jacket. The other box contained dark brown, buttery soft leather riding boots. 

I looked up at Sebastian in question. “Are we going horseback riding or something?”

He grinned, gesturing at the caramel-colored breeches I didn’t notice he’d put on. “I am but I want you to ride with me. You’ve once mentioned you’ve never been on a horse before. We can do lessons at a different time but I think you might like to go around the estate. I’d made arrangements to make sure you’re properly attired to get you into the mood for it.”

Biting my lip nervously, I hesitated. “What if I fall?”

He raised a brow. “You won’t. Just remember to hold on tight to me. We’ll go slowly. No stunts, I promise.”

Half an hour later, Sebastian was leading his impressive black stallion he called Windstorm down the trail heading to the woods while I was clutching his waist, fighting my fears as the animal’s muscled body undulated beneath the leather double saddle.

Although he was pacing the animal slowly, I could tell that Sebastian loved riding because as we made our way down the trail, he recounted dozens of stories flying down Windstorm whom he’d brought from England. 

In the years he’d spent there, he stayed at an estate called Silver Creek which was one of the homes his earl grandfather had left to his mother and that she then had left to him. The old man had died when Marianna, his only child, was just ten years old. The title had passed on to a distant cousin along with the entailed properties but the vast fortune of the Earl of Clarestone was mostly left to his daughter. So other than his father’s fortune, Sebastian also had an appallingly large inheritance from his mother who descended from British nobility. 

I inwardly sighed. Just one more thing that Sebastian needed—an old, aristocratic lineage.

Seriously. Couldn’t the man be any more surreal?

We took care not to pass the lake, taking the longer route and going around the clearing to climb up a small hill that overlooked a pretty meadow which sloped down to a small creek. The grass was brown and dry and the trees bare but the nearly mystical charm of the countryside still fascinated me.

We headed back in time for lunch and I stayed and watched Sebastian in the stables as he took it upon himself to brush Windstorm down and feed him some carrots, all the while telling me of how we would find me the perfect mare and spend afternoons and weekends teaching me how to ride.

This was a different side of Sebastian I didn’t get to see much but was just as endearing to me.

His green eyes were lit up with excitement and he smiled and laughed often, talked about his first horse, about his mischiefs trying to get out of his own riding lessons—he was very much like the young, sweet, energetic boy I suspected he once had been when they still lived here many years ago, before one night’s events changed his life forever.

Later in the afternoon, after I’d gone up to our room to freshen up, Sebastian came to the door, his expression somber.

I straightened. “I’m ready.”

He took my hand and slowly led me down the other end of the hallway, turning to a more secluded wing of the house where windows became sparse and the interior started to change into a more modern and clinical design. 

“This part of the house was an addition I’d planned to house Father and all of the necessary facilities to support him,” Sebastian explained, nodding briefly to an female nurse who just emerged past swing double doors. “I figured it was the best way to keep things out of the public eye. There’s nothing wrong with my father being discovered to be alive as he was never officially declared dead. Everyone assumed he was and we just never corrected them about it. But I always strived to make sure that no one digs around our family’s past. It’s gruesome enough without having it splattered all over the news. My father, Alfred and I all each paid well to keep the past locked up.”

“Do your stepmother and siblings know?” I asked softly as we stopped in front of the double doors. 

He nodded slightly. “They all know he’s alive but no one talks about it. They have a general idea of what happened between my parents but no one brings that up either. I don’t let them visit here often. As far as I’m concerned, the farther away they are from him, the safer they’ll be.”

“How does Brenda feel about that?”

He shrugged. “Brenda couldn't care less. She was relieved when I took over my father. As long as I give her her money, she’s perfectly happy to keep her mouth shut.”

“Funny that considering how she enjoyed labeling me a gold-digger when we met,” I muttered dryly. Sebastian’s expression became grim. “She said that to you?”

I immediately regretted my comment. 

Sebastian was already low on people who made his life easier for him. Brenda’s fight was with me and I suspected it was going to be on as long as I was with Sebastian but he didn’t have to get in and do it for me.

“She’s protective, that’s all,” I assured him. “I don’t blame her for considering the idea. I mean, I’m a poor nobody compared to you.”

“Don’t say that, Cassandra,” he hissed, his eyes flashing. “You’re not a nobody. You’re everything to me. And no, I wouldn’t say you’re poor considering your father is Jack Cartwright. Knowing what I do about him and his family, I have no doubt they will take care of you if you ever ask it of them.”

“Which I would never do,” I replied coldly. 

Sebastian studied me, his irritated expression relaxing. “You would never need his money, Cassandra, but you may need a father. I know you’ve been intentionally avoiding talking about it since you met him but at some point, you’ll have to accept the fact that he’s in your world and unlikely to leave.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

He looked determined. “You know, Jack was what the three of us envied Stellan the most. He was the only one who had a good father and who treated the rest of us like his sons. You could’ve had worse for a father.”

I glared at him. “I hope you’re not scheming to reconcile the two of us, Sebastian. I will deal with my father when I’m ready to do it. For now, we have your father to worry about.”

He cupped my chin and gazed down at me tenderly. “I hate my father for a lot of reasons—one of them being that he never cared to be the father I needed him to be. You have one who wants to at least try. You have no idea how fortunate you are, my love.”

Biting my lip, I nodded and pressed a kiss on his hand. “I know. But we have twenty-two years’ worth of complications to work through and I’m just not prepared for that quite yet.”

Sebastian smiled and slipped an arm around my shoulders before ushering me into the room. 

I halted at the doorway, looking around in astonishment. 

The house may look like a centuries old mansion but this room resembled a fully-equipped modern hospital.

It was bright and clinical with white tiles and stainless steel accents. Two nurses were busy doing separate tasks—one fiddling with a large piece of equipment and another measuring and filling some type of IV. They both looked up at our arrival and nodded at us politely.

“Alice and Gemma, this is my girlfriend Cassandra Collins,” Sebastian introduced, squeezing my shoulder lightly.

“Hello, nice to meet you,” I said to the the nurses with a smile before turning to Sebastian and murmuring, “How come we didn’t see much of the staff yesterday?”

“This whole side of the house is dedicated to my father’s health care and it includes very comfortable lodging and amenities for the staff downstairs,” he answered as he led me down a short hall and turned right. “I like to make sure they’re happy and satisfied because it’s a pain to have to get new staff. Risky too despite the non-disclosure agreement they all signed. There’s a total of six people who permanently work here to look after my father and most of them have been here more than ten years.”

I didn’t say it but despite Sebastian’s anger and guilt, he looked after his father well. Whether it was truly all to avoid the scandal or because unconsciously he still cared about him, it was there. 

We stopped by a door and Sebastian pressed a code on the small pin pad next to it before it swung open slowly.

The room was large and airy with large windows and the same luxurious interiors as the rest of the house. A male nurse was just clearing up a tray full of bandages and gauzy cloths from a small table when we stepped inside.

“Hello, Mr. Vice,” he greeted warmly, flashing us a smile. “Good to see you.”

“Hello, Brian,” Sebastian replied with a brief nod. “This is Cassandra, my girlfriend. We were hoping to see him today. How’s he doing?”

“The same, really,” the nurse answered. “His wounds are slowly healing and his bruises are fading. Dr. Barlow is flying in next week to check on the infection, to see what else can be done to get him out of comatose.”

As the two men chatted, I looked over the nurse’s shoulder and found a large bed at the other side of the room, near the windows, piled high with pillows and a fluffy duvet. On each side of the bed stood different medical paraphernalia—a tall oxygen tank, an IV stand, different monitors and other equipment that were in some way connected to the broken body of the man lying in the middle of the bed.

My heart thudded a steady cadence in my chest especially after Sebastian dismissed the nurse and slowly guided me to the bed which sported strap buckles on each corner for what I suspected were straps when they had to restrain him. There were no other furniture in the room except for a built-in shelf and a bolted down armchair.

As we neared, I could feel Sebastian stiffen until he stopped a couple of feet away from the bed.

I looked on.

Only the head and shoulders were visible from above the covers. 

He had shorn silvery gray hair but little of his face was exposed with all the bandages that wrapped around his head and the patches of them on his cheeks and chin. He had long, deep slashes across his nose and right brow that were still a bit swollen but now starting to scab. He had an oxygen tube through the mouth and a nasogastric tube through the nose. His lips were white and dry and cracked. His skin was pale and wrinkled and almost papery in appearance.

“I look like him,” Sebastian said quietly, standing behind me. “But my eyes are my mother’s.”

It was hard to picture out this frail, old man looking as tall, handsome and virile as Sebastian but I didn’t doubt it. I hoped that in the long future I’ve decided to spend with Sebastian, he will grow old better than his father did—healthy and happy.

We were only there for a few minutes when I felt Sebastian tug at my arm to go.

I looked up at him and saw that his brows were furrowed in stress and his jaw was clenched.

“I never linger here,” he croaked out in a thick voice. “Please, Cassandra.”

Without an argument, I took his hand and walked out with him, saying nothing until we came down the stairs and reached the covered stone patio in the back where Sebastian took in a series of deep breaths and paced his tension away. I sat and studied this side of him that I never really knew before today.

“Sebastian,” I said softly, drawing him up short. 

He glanced at me, his forehead wrinkling with a frown. “You now know every skeleton in my closet, Cassandra. If you’re going to be with me, all this will become part of your life—my violent past, my father’s burden, my own conflict. I don’t expect you to make the sacrifice but if you could just—”

“Hush,” I interrupted gently, shaking my head as I got up and walked to him, taking his hands in mine. “I don’t know how it ever occurred to you that this would be reason enough to drive me away but take heart, Sebastian. I’m grateful you trusted me enough to tell me all of this because now I really do understand you better and I love you more for it. I want you and our life together—all details, good and ugly, past and present included.”

He blinked, as if he honestly didn’t expect to hear what I just said, before his arms wrapped around me and pulled me close, his lips seeking mine in a turbulent, passionate kiss that had me clutching at his shoulders, gasping for breath.

“I love you, you know that?” Sebastian murmured huskily as we pulled away for air, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a half smile. “Sweet, silly girl that you are who should’ve long ago run away from me when you had the chance. Now there’s no way in hell I’ll ever let you go.”

I grinned. “Good. I’m counting on it.”

***

So what do you guys think about Seb's secret? And what do you think about how this has affected him as a child and as an adult? There's a couple more twists coming before this book wraps up so hang tight! And as always, vote and comment! 

XOXO! -Ninya