Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Líadan

I don't look like myself tonight.

Winding a curl around my finger, I gaze at my reflection, swallowing hard. The red dress is more revealing than anything I've ever worn in my life, and although I won't be able to sit all night because the damn thing is so tight, it doesn't look bad.

I'm wearing light makeup, a deep maroon lipstick, black heels with the red bottoms, and the front of my hair is gathered back in a few braids that I turned into a crown around my head. The rest of my dark strands are curled, the braids held in place with the long, sharp pins Brendan gave me.

Taking a deep breath, I struggle not to feel as naked as this dress makes me look. My large forest green eyes appear even bigger than normal with the eyeliner and swipes of mascara I've used, and I shift on my feet as I question how I look.

Maybe there's time to change. If I wear a floor length dress, Daddy may backhand me and mar my perfect skin. Then, I won't have to go at all. It's pathetic that these are my thoughts on my birthday, but I don't know what else to do.

My heavy breasts sit perfectly in the dress despite the fact that I can't wear a bra in it, and I'm forced into a tiny thong so the lines won't fuck up the dress.

A knock on the door makes me toss up my shaking hands in defeat as I walk over to answer it. Bruin stands there appearing bored, and just seeing him makes my breaths come shorter than they were before.

He loves the way he scares the hell out of me, and I have to force myself not to make any sound as I practically pant with fear.

"I guess you'll do for tonight, heifer," he mutters, stepping back. "I'm not allowed to drag you along tonight, so let's hurry this up, shall we? Can't fuck up all that creamy skin quite yet."

Even though his words make my flesh crawl, I walk quickly to keep up with him as he takes off down the hallway. I refuse to say anything to him or ask any of the millions of questions racing through my mind, though if Daddy wanted to make me even more terrified than I already was, I have to say that he succeeded.

Bruin has a terrible outlook on women. He thinks we're all fat and lazy, and half the time he'll mutter things I don't understand under his breath. I prefer him this way than hurting me though. Sometimes, you have to pick your battles in this household.

Daddy is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs as I descend the steps quickly behind Bruin.

"Do you need me anymore, boss?" he grunts, pushing his hair back as he glares over at me.

I don't understand why he hates me so much, outside of having a vagina that is. He wears his hatred of women like a second skin. I can't be bothered to untangle his damage right now, though, because Daddy rocks back on his heels to gaze at me.

"No, I don't think that'll be necessary," Daddy says with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "You're going to behave tonight, aren't you, Líadan?"

My blood pressure skyrockets as I nod slowly. Not for the first time, I think about how wrong things feel as I take the last step down to stand next to my father.

"Of course, Daddy," I whisper. I wish my voice was stronger, but it's a struggle to even keep my body moving.

"If the little whore gives you any trouble, I'll be around," Bruin mutters. "Hopefully, she finally begins to realize she exists to follow commands."

Pulling my arm through his, Daddy tugs me into motion. "Women exist to get married, have children, and do exactly what their husbands want them to do," he says conversationally. Bruin rolls his eyes and walks off, seemingly happy that I'm following my father through the house.

"You, my daughter, are mine to do whatever I want with."

"What are you doing, Daddy?" I force myself to ask.

"You're too comfortable and soft," he scoffs. "If you're going to take over all of this one day, you have to be a living, breathing bringer of death to our enemies. I'm afraid I've been too lenient with you, but it's okay, I have a plan to fix that."

"You do?" I whisper. Daddy is almost dragging me by this point, forcing my feet to continue moving as he clamps my arm to his side. My heels trip me as I try to slow his walking, though it's a lost cause.

There's an odd excitement buzzing through him, and I don't think I've ever seen him like this. He's in fact been anything but lenient, so I don't understand his reasoning for thinking this right now.

"Yes," he growls. "Brendan was officially inducted into the family at sixteen, and he became my executioner. He pulls his weight well for us, while you've done nothing but make my life difficult. I have to hide you away from prying eyes, because you're weak. You will become my secret weapon, darling. There's still time to fix this."

The way he says that makes my shoulders hunch up toward my ears. He rarely uses sweet words with me, and when he does, it's because something really bad is about to happen. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

My head whips around to see who is around to force me to the ballroom, and my eyes take in the bored guards who are standing guard at the mansion. This house is a fortress because Daddy's enemies are just as ruthless as he is. No one is able to go in or out without permission except Brendan, and that's only because he knows where the safest entry and exit points are.

No matter how many extra cameras Daddy installs, there are always dead zones.

"Daddy…" I say the words almost a plea.

There's a gleam of self importance and zeal in his eyes as he continues to drag me across the house. I can hear people talking in the big room he uses for parties. It is rare that I'm ever invited, and I am quite alright with that.

I've heard things over the years about the sex trafficking trade Daddy runs with the family. I hate that this house, my clothes, and everything around me has been bought from the suffering of others.

At twelve, I learned a bit about what "inventory" the O'Briens sold, and a piece of my soul died that day. Every day, I feel as if I'm withering away. I wish I could just run away, but that's not in the cards for me.

"…Líadan, it's time you took the place in the family I always dreamed you would," Daddy says, and my brows draw down. Shit, I missed something important when I zoned out. "Today, you're seventeen, and a portion of the family wants to formally meet you, since I've kept you away from the public eye.

"So, I sold lots to the party as a small celebration for your birthday. Anything that happens tonight will never be spoken about upon pain of death. The highest bidder has the pleasure of having your virginity. They can also do whatever they want to you, as long as you're alive by the end of it.

"I think it's the perfect way to celebrate. Now, Cormac has been working the entire bidding process while I've been gone. Let's see who will go first, shall we?"

It's as if my brain logs back on as I stare dumbly at him. His pupils are enlarged with excitement, a sickness emanating from his body as he goes on and on about this as if it's a dream come true for me. I would never want any of this. It's absolute insanity.

"You're selling your own daughter?" I ask.

Struggling to move away, my father laughs and pulls me closer until he can wrap his hands around my waist and toss me over his shoulder.

"Of course," he booms. "I played with the idea of just marrying you off, but then I'd lose you to whatever asshole husband you end up with, despite how it may help me in an alliance. This way, you'll rise from the ashes of whatever delusions you have that you're better than us. Always reading or drawing, you're fooking boring and useless. You need to fully understand the masterpiece of the life I'm building! You need a taste of what we're capable of. You will never be safe or happy. Ever."

My father really is off his rocker.

I begin hitting Daddy as I hang over his back and kick my legs, hoping that he'll let me go. I even decide to throw caution to the wind and pull out my hairpins to shove them into his skin, but he doesn't seem to feel it as he continues his monologue about how he's going to rebuild me into something better than the sum of my parts.

Just as I pull out a pin from my hair to kill myself by slitting my throat to keep this all from happening, he steps into the room full of people.

"Sorry for the delay," he says loudly as he strides in without a care in the world. I can smell the blood from the cuts along his skin as he moves, but he still doesn't show any discomfort. The pins are miniature knives, sharp as fuck, and even I had to make sure not to stab myself when I weaved them into my hair.

Daddy throws me into the air as I lift my head to look out at the room, though my hair keeps getting in the way. Screaming, I hit the ground hard, losing my weapon as my hair flops into my face as I roll across the floor.

All chatter ceases as I glance up, breathing heavily, feeling like a caged animal on display. There are men and women in beautiful formal outfits staring back at me with hungry expressions. They look as if they're staring at a tasty morsel, and I've never experienced the amount of terror and disgust I feel right now ever before.

They're the beasts and monsters I heard my father speak about as I was hiding under the table when I was twelve. I don't know how he's able to keep them all appeased and leashed.

"It's about time you two arrived," a woman in a long black dress says with a smirk. There's a naked man on a leash on his knees by her side, his eyes glazed over as he presses his head against her leg.

His cock is thick against his stomach, his arms bound against his back as he waits for her next instruction. She absently plays with her slave's hair as she watches me closely.

"I thought we were going to have to send a search party. It doesn't do to keep us waiting. It won't change how much fun we're going to have, pet."

She says this as if I'm an errant child who's refusing to attend a party, instead of about to have my innocence ripped away. A large hand fists my hair while his other grabs my arm, yanking me onto my feet.

I watch as my father winces as he touches his side in surprise across the room, and I wait to see if he'll fall. There are about four of my pins stuffed into his body, though it didn't make a lick of difference. He's still fucking standing.

"This isn't right," I spit out, trying to jerk away from the large man behind me. I can't see him, but I can feel his presence, and his hands may as well be the size of dinner plates. I'm going to have bruises, though that isn't likely to be the worst thing that happens tonight.

Cormac walks toward me, rolling his eyes as he gazes at me.

"They want to see what they're paying for, little slut," he growls in a low voice as he pulls out a large knife. "They'll fuck you bloody either way, so don't move. If I accidentally were to cut you from navel to sternum, they won't care."

The man behind me shakes me so hard, I swear my brain rattles. The people around me remind me of snakes, biding their time to strike. They gaze dispassionately as Cormac slides his knife through the silk of the dress. I hiss as he purposely draws blood like an asshole.

"It appears, first blood goes to me, you heathens," he calls out as he rips the dress off my body and tosses it away. For good measure, he cuts away my thong as well, putting it up to his nose to inhale deeply.

His eyes roll as if my pussy was the best thing he's ever smelled, making me shudder with revulsion.

He's playing the room perfectly as he steps back with a smirk, tossing my panties to someone else and working them all up.

The group cheers and jeers, but all I can hear are my own panicked breaths and the pounding of my heart. It's as if I'm in a bubble and I can see them talking without hearing anything.

Daddy opens his suit jacket, checking himself as the adrenaline begins to fade and he realizes he's hurt. The blood is staining his white tuxedo shirt, and as he pulls out a long pin, he looks up at me in accusation.

I hope you fucking die from infection, Daddy.

"My daughter is of the mindset that she has choices," he says, the sound hurtling toward me as it pierces through my panic. Dropping the pin, I hear it hit the floor as he slowly buttons up his coat.

"Tonight, she will be introduced to the underbelly of the family. No one will ever speak of this night, as she is underage and not practicing consent. We will all pretend it never happened, while Líadan lives with the knowledge that she's to blame for this."

My lips part, but I can't speak because someone shoves a large gag in my mouth. It's shaped like a long cylinder with a large hole in it, and all I can taste is the latex of the gag. I can't imagine what it's for, but I can only moan and gag in discomfort as it's shoved inside my mouth.

The ties are then secured tightly to the back of my head, and I'm forced to stand there naked and gagged as my father continues to speak. The hulk behind me has my wrists bound tightly against the small of my back, and hope slowly begins to die inside of me.

"There are responsibilities we all have as an O'Brien, yet she shirks them every day," Daddy booms out. I don't know what any of these are, since I've been attending school or online classes all of this time.

Those are the only responsibilities I've been told about. "We deal in skin, sex, and misery. Most of you brought your pets with you, knowing you'll be fully accepted in my home, despite your sexual proclivities. Each of you will get a turn with my precious daughter if you so choose one, but her virginity will go to…"

I really am being auctioned off like an animal, and blackness threatens to overtake me. A voice growls, "If you pass out, they'll take their turns regardless. The difference is, you may not survive it."

Do I even want to get out of this alive?

Blood slides down my skin, though the small wound no longer hurts. A woman with long blonde hair piled up on her head walks idly over as Cormac goes through the pieces of paper he has in a hat.

The insanity of this all makes me attempt to get free from the mountain of a man behind me. All it gets me is a slap by the woman in front of me, except instead of slapping my face, she assaults my breasts.

"Such beautiful, supple skin," she murmurs. Her hands and arms are covered in leather gloves, and I whimper as her fingers ghost down my skin. I press myself against the man behind me as if it'll save me, but he only chuckles as he pushes me forward.

"How do we know she's a virgin, Seán?"

The woman may as well have yelled as the room quiets, her hand making a steady progress through the blood flowing down my body toward the apex between my legs. I don't want to be touched, but I can't say anything as I keen, unable to get away.

I've kept my promise to myself and Daddy that I would never cry again. No matter what happens, my eyes will remain dry.

"Shh," the woman snaps. The giant behind me moves his hand from my hair to grasp around my throat, effectively silencing me as he squeezes. "I'm playing now, the merchandise shouldn't speak."

"She's a virgin, Ciara," Daddy drawls, walking across the room as if he doesn't have several sharp knives embedded in his body. "Líadan would never give away the only part of her that has any importance."

I'm barely even a person to them as they discuss me. The pressure around my throat and lack of air help me float a bit as Ciara strokes the slight hair along my pussy absently before moving down to push her fingers inside my entrance. It burns, making me whimper in pain as she forces herself deeper.

"She's certainly tight enough to be a virgin, though a bit dry," she says wryly as she continues to pump her fingers inside of me. I don't want this, but my body is reacting in ways I've never experienced.

"There we go, pet. Are you feeling a bit of heaviness deep inside? I can see how much you hate this, but fuck is it making me wet."

Pulling out her fingers, I can see they're glistening slightly as she sucks on them.

"The girl will do nicely," she calls out, dropping her hand to her side. "Did I win? I could do such delicious things to break her."

Daddy chuckles as he glances over at Cormac who nods.

"Shane is our winner," he says gruffly. "Do you want her strapped to the table or the cross, Sir?"

"I like the cross, myself," the man says, stepping forward. He's tall, with muscles everywhere you could imagine, but I know better than to think he's handsome. While his hair is blonde, the scruff along his face at a passing glance would make you look twice, his dead gaze scares the shit out of me.

"My son can take her mouth while I take her virginity. With that contraption, he won't even need to worry about teeth!"

Everyone around him snorts as if that's the worst thing that could happen to anyone. The gag won't allow me to bite, and I can't close my mouth. Even my tongue is pushed back uncomfortably. I can't bring myself to care, because I have a feeling the rest of tonight will be much worse.

Pushing me forward, my guard moves me toward a cross that they're moving into the middle of the room. I've heard of the St. Andrew's crosses because Daddy owns a sex club. One day I was curious and I researched what went on in them. I've also read a few romance books with them, but this appears different than what I've read about.

The guard holds me tightly against the cross with his hand on my neck and hip, the wood ice cold against my skin as my ankles are secured. I fight to keep them from getting a good grip, but they're so much stronger than me.

My guard makes me see stars as he cuffs me behind the ears. I gasp as the world whirls around me, and the two men quickly finish their tasks.

I'm held tightly against the cross by my wrists and ankles by the restraints, fully on display. Hands touch, smack my skin, and grope me as my breaths come faster. I'm having a panic attack.

No one will help me, this is going to happen. Brendan is far away, and will never get to me in time.

Still, the tears won't come as a man who looks a lot like a younger version of Shane stands before me, and the cross is moved so the crowd gets a good side view of my body. Wrapping his hand in my hair, he fists it as he yanks me forward. My arms feel hyperextended as I'm bent almost in half, making me scream in discomfort.

"Oh, she screams prettily, doesn't she, son?" Shane asks as I hear the distinct sound of a zipper being pulled down.

"For as much as you bought her for, she better," his son grunts and he releases his cock from his pants.

It's the first one I've ever seen this close, and I curse the universe for doing this to me. I should have begged Brendan to have sex with me as my birthday present. My father would have killed me, but my soul is dying anyway as I struggle to get Shane's son's hand to slip from my hair. There's nowhere to escape to, but at least I can say I still fought.

That has to count for something.

"Get on with it, Cael," Shane says, barking out a laugh as he rubs his cock along my core. I'm still so dry, I know this is going to hurt. Cael lazily strokes his cock as he smirks, pulling me closer until he can smear pre-cum over my lips.

I can't taste it, which is a small mercy, but any grace ends as Shane thrusts his cock inside of my pussy, making me scream.

Cael whoops as he forces his cock through the latex, holding my mouth open, grunting as he fucks my throat. I feel as if I'm both drowning and burning alive from the pain as they fuck me.

I'm gagging on Cael's cock due to inexperience, but I don't think he cares, as he simply groans and forces me to swallow him down.

Shane's cock is huge, and my vagina feels as if it's being torn apart as he forces himself inside of me. I hear moaning all around me, though I can't see anything since my nose is buried against Cael's pelvis.

Breathing doesn't seem very important during a blow job apparently. The two of them use me until they come hard, the feeling of being filled up with their cum, drowning me in shame.

As soon as they step back once they're done, someone else continues to take their place, until I'm forced to untether myself from reality. The pain is still there, I just can't allow myself to be Líadan anymore.

Brendan's Lía is weak, sad, and pathetic. I need to be better than this, because if this doesn't kill me, I can never allow it to happen again.

Just as I sag against the cross in exhaustion, listless and on the verge of passing out, Daddy raises his hand in the air. The bastard stood there the entire time and fucking watched, despite his injuries.

"As much fun as I know you're all having, I believe I've made my point," Daddy says, walking closer to me.

His hand grabs my hair once he's close enough, yanking it back until I can meet the gaze of the devil. Leaning forward until his lips are firmly against the shell of my ear, he continues to wreck my world.

"You think this is the absolute worst that can happen to you, but you're wrong. This is just the beginning," he rasps.

My body is broken, bruised, and I have blood between my thighs. I can feel the slow trail as it drips down my body, making me wish I could scrub the experience from my flesh. I've been taken in every way possible, someone even cut my skin so he could use the blood as lube to fuck my ass.

I'm hurt, exhausted, and I don't know how I'm going to survive this. If Daddy meant to break me, I think he achieved it.

"Bruin, I believe you have business with my daughter," Daddy says with a cruel smile as he steps back.

"No!"

My scream is incoherent from the gag as Bruin pulls me off the sex contraption to lift me into his arms.

Everyone is laughing, fucking, and having so much fun, they don't notice as Bruin strolls off out of the room with me.

The next few hours are even worse somehow. I don't know how Bruin manages to keep me alive as he cuts, beats, and fucks me, but I have a feeling he has lots of experience with this.

When oblivion finally comes and I pass out, I thank God for it.

Though, I have a feeling he's not watching over me anymore. I'm all alone.

Brendan

The prostitute took forever to give up her goddamn secrets, and even then they weren't all that juicy. She was feeding intel to the police officer, but it wasn't too incriminating.

Blowing out an annoyed breath as I break her neck, I leave her to the clean up crew. Mr. O'Brien texted me to kill her if she had given up any information. I guess he wasn't in the mood to be lenient.

Cleaning up in a hurry, I change my clothes once I know I no longer look like a horror movie villain. The bitch was a bleeder, and was also absurdly scared of seeing her own blood. Once I realized it, I began breaking bones instead.

She still took forever to spill her secrets though.

Ambling out of the warehouse in a pair of jeans and a black long-sleeved T-shirt, I shiver in the autumn air. It's almost two in the morning.

"Fook, I missed the rest of her birthday," I grumble as I walk quickly to my truck. Checking my phone, I see I don't have any texts from Lía.

Deciding to call Seán despite the late hour to see if the party is still happening under the guise of reporting the hooker's death, I connect the call.

" Brendan ," Seán grunts as he picks up.

"It's done, Sir. I'm headed home. Is there anything else you need?" I ask.

I'm not planning to go home. Instead, I'm sneaking onto the O'Brien property to see Lía. I have a bad feeling, and the back of my neck tingles uncomfortably as I climb into my vehicle. Something doesn't feel right.

" No, no," he says with a laugh. My brows draw down in concern because of how forced the emotion is.

"Ah, alright. Is the party still happening?" I ask, turning over the engine. I make certain he can hear that I'm leaving as I put the truck into drive.

" Yes, it's been absolutely grand," he says warmly. Mr. O'Brien is speaking very loudly, and dare I say it, he sounds drunk? " Don't worry your head about Líadan. She's fine. Goodnight now."

I gun the engine as he hangs up, swallowing hard. Tossing the phone into the cup holder, I drive as fast as possible without being pulled over. Just because it's late in the city, doesn't mean the cops aren't still out on the roads.

My heartbeat is roaring in my ears as I park at the back of the property and then hike in. The usually gorgeous trees remind me more of beasts as I avoid both the security guards and the cameras as I sneak my way into the house.

Despite what Mr. O'Brien stated, everything is very quiet. I have to pass the ballroom as I sneak in, and ironically, there's no one around.

The mansion is quieter than a tomb, and it makes goosebumps crawl up my skin as I creep through the empty rooms. Taking a shuddering breath as I run up the backstairs near the kitchen, I make my way as quickly as possible to Lía's room.

Knocking softly, I hold my ear to her door, waiting for admittance. A low moan of pain greets me instead, making me curse under my breath as I turn the doorknob.

The door is locked.

My best friend never locks her door. Her father won't allow her to, and no one would typically dare to tread here.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

The word thumps through my mind as I pick the lock quickly. I always have pins with me, though I never imagined I'd be using them here. I usually scale up the side of the house so I can crawl in her bedroom window, but I needed confirmation that Mr. O'Brien was lying to me.

Shoving open the door, I stand upright as I storm into her room, putting my picks away in my back pocket.

"Lía?" I whisper, closing the door behind me.

Whimpers have me finding her curled up in a corner, facing the wall.

"Baby?" I ask softly, turning on the light.

"Don't!" she screams, but it's too late. My knees fail to hold my weight as I drop down beside her.

Lía's curled into a ball, but I can see bruises, cuts, and a brand on her left buttock. There's dried blood on the backs of her thighs that make me think the worst, and I curse myself for leaving her alone here.

"Fuck," I grunt, carefully picking her up into my lap. Her eyes are dry, but there are hand prints all over her neck, and her mouth is red and swollen. "There's my brave girl."

"Hardly brave," she spits out. "I couldn't stop them. Brendan…"

I can only imagine what happened to her, and there's blood getting on my shirt and pants as she sits there, but I don't care. She's alive. I can help her put back the pieces, they just may look different than before.

"So you become scarier and tougher, milseán," I tell her, pushing back her blood-streaked hair. "You become the monster they'll never see coming."

"I think that's why Daddy did this," she says, eyes tortured and pupils blown in pain. "What if I lose who I am?"

"Lose it," I growl. "I promise to love every form of who you are. Put what you know into practice, become the psychopath, I'll follow you into Hell if it means you don't fucking give up."

Her breaths are slow and difficult to hear as she inhales, and I can tell whoever did this broke her ribs again. I'll clean her up and stay with her tonight.

Tomorrow? I'll help her burn the world down slowly and painfully. We'll play the long game since they tried to take her from me. And one day we'll find all of our enemies dead and rotting at our feet. And they'll never fucking see us coming.

"I'm never going to be the same again," she whispers, her pain obvious in her tone as I gather her up to stand.

Swallowing hard, I nod as I walk slowly to the bathroom.

"I'll help you heal," I rasp. "Things may never be the same after this, and that's okay. You're a goddamn survivor. You hear me? Fuck, I shouldn't have left tonight."

"It wouldn't have changed a thing," she rasps. Lía sounds as if she's smoked several packs of cigarettes, making me wince in sympathy.

Turning on the light, I stand her in front of me carefully. She's completely naked, her soul shattered as she gazes up at me. I swear right then and there I'll put her back together with super glue and my love. I don't care what that ends up looking like, Líadan cannot let this moment break her forever.

Filling a glass with water, I carefully give her a few sips.

"I'm here now," I say, more for me than anyone else. "I'm going to clean you up, bandage your ribs, and stay with you tonight. Your father can go fuck himself with a rusty pole, I will not leave again. I'm moving in."

Lía merely shrugs as she nods. I'm surprised she accepts this easily as I turn on the shower.

"My worst nightmares didn't even scratch the surface of what was done tonight," she says as I lead her into the shower. All I pull off are my weapons and boots before climbing in with her.

She doesn't need to get the wrong idea. I don't want to scare her.

Slowly, lovingly, I clean every cut, wash her body and hair, and cut my own heart out as I see the blood between her legs. Lía hides her face behind her hair as I wash her off, but I won't let her hide from me.

" Milseán," I rumble as I stand in front of her. My hair is wet, my clothes drenched, but my attention is all on her.

"They ruined me," she says, her voice trembling. Still, her eyes are dry as she peeks up at me. Seán O'Brien trained his daughter never to cry, so she doesn't. She's breaking inside, though it's difficult to see.

Anyone else would be screaming, wailing, and crying, but not Lía. I don't think it's all caught up to her yet. Or maybe, it's more so that she can't process it the way others would.

The Irish are simply built differently.

"They changed you," I correct her. "My best friend and love of my life is not ruined."

"How, what?" Lía hisses as she raises and drops her hands in confusion. Lifting her arm, I see there's thin cuts along the inside of it.

This looks like Bruin's handiwork, though I won't ask right now. I'm the boss' executioner because I'm the most likely to get information out of my prisoners, while Bruin is a bull in a china shop, driven to maximize his destruction. He enjoys simply hearing them scream.

She's here. She's still standing, and she's mine.

"You are mine, and therefore you're perfect," I growl, rubbing her shoulders carefully. "I have loved you my entire life, this will never change. I'm just bringing you with me to every job from now on. You'll never be alone, ever again, unless I know you're safe. I swear it."

Lía takes as deep of a breath as she can handle before she nods. The well of emotion in her gaze almost brings me to tears myself, but I force myself to be strong. I will fall apart another time, and then burn away all emotion.

If she's to be a monster at her father's insistence, then I'll help her shed all the blood she needs. We belong together, and no one else matters.