Chapter 73 (Part 2): Danté's POV

When I saw her on that floor, curled into a little ball, covered in fresh bruises and blood dripping down the side of her pretty face; an anger rose in me, bubbling over like a pot of boiling water on a campfire.

I felt almost the same way I did when Mom and Amelia was murdered. The only difference now was that I could have actually prevented what happened to Princess. I was strong enough - I had men stationed outside to protect her...

But it still happened right under my nose. And I will never forgive myself for it.

I knew the face of a woman whose dignity and self-worth had been stolen from her. I've had to see my own mother that way many times as a kid. I understood what it was about way before I was meant to.

I remember one day, when I was just about thirteen years old, I was adamant to go and kill my father for what he had done to my mother. But my sister, Amelia, who was barely two years older than myself - stopped me.