I open my eyes and look at Emmaleen.
She's still bound. Still waiting. Her body tense with anticipation and fear.
And she'sminenow.
Mine to protect.
Mine to keep safe from men like Rico. From families like the LaRiccias who would gut her and dump her body in the river without a second thought.
Mine to punish when she breaks the rules that will keep her alive.
The monster shifts inside my chest, settling into place like a key turning in a lock.
Yes. You understand now.
I do.
I hate it. Hate that this is who I am. Hate that I can't separate the protective instinct from the need to dominate, to control, to break her down until she's so thoroughlyminethat no one else could ever touch her.
But I embrace it anyway.
Because the alternative is letting her go.
And I can't do that.
Won't.
Even if it makes me a monster.
I pick up the crop again.
"Emmaleen."
Her name tastes like possession on my tongue.
"Yes, Sir?" Her voice is hoarse. Wrecked.
"Do you understand why you're being punished?"
A pause. Then, quietly: "For the demerits I earned today."
"No."
I crouch beside her again, close enough that she can see my face. See whatever darkness is living in my eyes right now.
"You're being punished because you need to learn that this—" I gesture to the restraints, the collar, the marks on her skin, "—is the only way I know how to keep you safe."
Confusion flickers across her face. "Safe from what?"
"From everyone. From the LaRiccias. From Luca finding out you witnessed Rico's death. From my father, who would trade you just as easily as he traded me if it served his purposes."
I brush a strand of hair away from her face with surprising gentleness.
"From yourself. From the part of you that thinks you deserve men who hurt you."
Emmaleen's breath hitches.
"I'm going to hurt you," I tell her honestly. "But only in ways you can survive. Only in ways that make you stronger. Only in ways that teach you to trust that I will always—always—protect you."