I tuck my legs up to my chest and just stare. It’s all I can do. I’m too emotional to sleep. I’m deep in thought when a low, gravelly voice penetrates the darkness. “Penny looks like my mother.”

I flinch. The only thing he’s ever told me about his mother is that she died and his father re-married.

“She must have been beautiful then,” I whisper.

“She was.”

“Did your father love her?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “No. My father was as selfish as me. He treated her badly, bashed her all the time. One night I found her dead in the bathroom. She had overdosed.”

I close my eyes, my body trembling. Jesus.

“You’re nothing like that,” I say hoarsely. “You’d never hurt someone like that.”

“Wouldn’t I? Didn’t I?”

“No,” I say. “You didn’t. You’re a lot of things, Marcus. You ripped my heart out, but you never, ever hurt me physically, and I know you never would.”

He’s silent again.

I go to turn when he speaks once more. “After she died, my father just went on with life, as usual. As though he had no part in her death. As if he did nothing to lead her there. I hated him. I despised him. When he re-married, I hated her and her kids just as much. I went to live with my grandfather when I was twelve with the permission of my father. I never saw him again after that. He died a few years back. Cancer.”

“Justice was served,” I whisper.

“Yeah.”

“And your grandfather?”

“Hard, cranky, selfish. My entire family was like that. The only thing he taught me was how to be strong, to have a backbone and to never feel. He knew I could run that business; he saw it in me at a young age. Unfortunately, he also saw I was reckless and a whore.”

I flinch again, closing my eyes, hating that word.

“I slept around a lot. I never kept a woman. It was a bad ‘look’ for the business. When he died, you know what he said had to happen.” He sighs. “I thought that business was all I had, Katia. I never thought there could be anything better out there for me. I believed it was the only thing keeping me afloat. Until I met you.”

I close my eyes, tucking my knees closer to my chest. “Why me?”

He shrugs. “I met you by chance that night, but you were so broken, so tired. You put on a good front, but your life was hard. I knew you would benefit from my lifestyle. I knew your mom would, too. It was a win-win, in my eyes.”

“You didn’t expect to care, did you?”

“Not at all.”

I keep my eyes fixed on the glass in front of me.

“Katia.”

I don’t turn.

“Come here.”

I still don’t turn.

“Katia.” His tone carries a warning.

“What did it feel like?” I whisper. “When I left?”

“Like someone had ripped out my heart and crushed it.”

“Then why did you let me go? Why did you say all those horrible things?”

“Do you not see? I was setting you free. I wanted you to hate me. I wanted you to leave and get away from the monster I was. You deserved so much better than me.”

I narrow my eyes. “But setting me free would have meant no business for you? If Walter hadn’t died . . .”

“I would have lost everything.”

I turn slowly to stare at him. He’s staring at me, sitting up, his big body calling me.

“You set me free, knowing you could lose everything? Not only would you lose that, but you would lose me too?”

He nods. “You deserved so much better. Hurting you and making you hate me meant you would move on, and you would find someone to give you the love you deserved and so desperately searched for in me.”

“Marcus,” I whisper.

Emotion hits me like a brick. He set me free. He said all those nasty things on purpose so I would go and wouldn’t come back.

“Why did you try to find me, then?”

He looks down. “At the time, letting you go made sense. When you were gone, my heart fucking ached. Suddenly I found myself desperate. I wanted to know where you were. I wanted to give you money. I needed to know you were okay.”

“You wanted your cake, and you wanted to eat it too.”

He laughs low. “Yeah. At the time, I knew what I was doing. It wasn’t until you left that I realized the mistake I’d made. I had set you free, but I had captured myself in doing so.”

“And Walter?”

“He destroyed everything, Katia.”

“Maybe,” I whisper. “Or maybe he released me from an awful trap.”

“He didn’t do that for you; he did it for himself. If you think he cared that you were hurting . . . you’re wrong.”

“Did you kill him, Marcus?”

He looks up sharply. “Does it matter?”

I tilt my head. “I guess not.”

“I’ve done a lot of things in my life, Katia. Until that day, I didn’t realize that marrying you was the best damned thing I ever did.”

My heart clenches. “And now?” I say softly.

“Nothing has changed.”

“Marcus, I tried to have you killed.”

“You were angry, hurt, and you had just lost someone important to you. I can’t hate you for that.”

“It doesn’t make it any better.”

“No,” he admits. “It doesn’t. But it’s finished. We have a daughter now, a daughter who needs us to function.”