Sasha went back to her villa for a day to inform Iyana and Briana that should they have any concerns, they can send a note to West's villa where she intended to stay for a week.

Iyana was pleased that she was nearer but was still equally concerned.

West, on the other hand, was restless.

"Perhaps we can do this without—"

"You need to leave, West," she told him, walking over to stare out the window. "I shall be fine."

When she did not hear anything, she turned and sighed. He stood unmoving in the middle of their bedchamber, face grim. She chuckled.

"I will be fine." She walked over to him and cupped his face. "You will be there to save me." She planted a light kiss on his lips and pushed him to the door. "Go."

West stiffly opened the door.

"West," she called. He paused and looked at her. "Do not be late."

His gaze surveyed her entire form, head to foot, his eyes determined before he nodded. "I will be there."

*****

For days, she had been alone with only Darren and Seven as company. West, Darren told her, was making appearances in parliament sessions, but was always ready whenever she needed him.

On her first day, she had sewn two more dresses that Seven had destroyed. By the second day, the curtains had been replaced in a different color. On her third, she started to arrange the library books alphabetically with Darren.

Every morning, she walked around the garden, tending to the plants as they bloomed in spring.

On her fourth night alone, she cried. She should be used to being alone as she did in the Court of Libraries. But it was different here. Everything she touched was a reminder of West and a home.

He had told her he would marry her.

What a fool, she thought. What a beautiful, sweet fool. She would love to hate him for it because by telling her he would marry her, he gave her a glimpse of a different life. One that was uncertain, unknown, but exciting. One that would be unexpected, for sure, but one she would be looking forward to.

If she agreed.

And that may not happen.

She never believed that love could conquer all. Her father's, if he ever had love for his wife, would have not done what he did. If he ever loved Sasha, he would have not succumbed to the urgings of his mind.

Yet his thoughts were stronger. They gave him the strength to pull the trigger twice.

Sasha willed herself to not think of what would happen after all was over. More important things should be addressed at the moment.

On her fifth night, Sasha slipped into bed and waited. Feeling the dagger under the pillow, she closed her eyes and hoped for danger to come.

And it did come.

It came just like the last one.

But this time, Sasha was not dreaming and she knew the moment it happened that she had to fight.

His hand was around her neck, stealing her of her breath.

Sasha opened her eyes and found him hovered above her. He loosened his grip and Sasha gasped for air. Then he tightened his hold once more. "I am sorry to be late, darling," he said, enjoying the look of horror in her eyes. "I had to make certain there will be no one to save you this time."

Sasha's eyes welled with tears.

They did it, she thought. Her hand searched for the dagger under her pillow and waited.

Where was she?

She was feeling faint. Her eyes started to flutter close and her body was fighting for more air.

Where was Gabrielle?

Willoghby's weight pressed down on her, trapping her.

She had imagined this scene too many times. They were all the same. Yet she was still as weak.

Willoghby loosened his grip around her neck once again, ever so slightly, just enough for her to let out the trapped air. "Why do you have to stay with Blackwood, my dear?" he asked beside her ear. "Do you know who he serves?" Sasha's hold loosened around the dagger. Was Gabrielle not coming? "Do you know where he goes to whenever he is out of your sight, Sasha, darling?" Willoghby sneered.

Her hand tightened around the dagger and with what was left of her strength, Sasha swung her arm around, the tip of the dagger slicing through Willoghby's face. In an instant, his hand released her neck and she gasped for breath, rolling out of bed.

She fell and stumbled as Willoghby wailed in fury and pain.

Sasha scampered across the room but Willoghby lunged for her, slamming her fast and hard on the floor, snatching her breath. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled.

She struggled, but he was stronger. His other hand grabbed the knife from her hand and with one swift motion, he flipped Sasha over.

She opened her mouth, but his hand was fast to muffle her scream. He straddled her, planting his full weight on her. His eyes glinted in the darkness of the room as he looked at the dagger. Blood trickled down his face from the wound she inflicted and dripped on her white nightdress.

He scoffed at her in disbelief. Then he lowered the dagger and rested the tip very gently on the hollow of her neck. He traced it lower and slicked through the upper button of the dress.

"Do you have any idea what your gentleman is capable of, Sasha?" Willoghby sneered. Her nostrils flared under his hand as she felt the cold blade slide down her midriff. Willoghby ground his hips down against hers, warning her not to move. "You think I am evil, do you not, Sasha? Oh, but you know very little. Does Blackwood do this?" he asked, tearing through her nightdress. "Does he excite you as I do?"

She was not coming, Sasha thought.

Gabrielle was not coming.

She tried to scratch his face, but he pressed the dagger into her flesh, not enough to wound her, but enough to make her turn stone cold.

"Between Blackwood and I, I am the lesser evil, Sasha... because Blackwood is the devil himself, and you have no idea why, do you?"

Sasha's eyes widened as she felt the dagger dig into her skin. She blinked in confusion at first, confused. She could not feel the pain. The ringing in her ears mellowed down to a buzz, but a thousand sensations were rushing through her nerves, telling her body that it had been invaded. Willoghby pulled his hand from her mouth and watched her as she gasped for air. Her mouth opened wide as he pushed the dagger deeper, his eyes filled with wonder and amazement as she struggled to understand the situation.

Sasha let out a shaky breath. Summoning what was left of her strength, she swiftly took the knife out and plunged it into Willoghby's shoulder. He screamed in pain, but he was even more enraged.

His hands clasped Sasha's neck and she strained below him.

She knew her injury was more fatal and she would die first.

And then she saw her. Sasha saw Gabrielle sneak behind Willoghby and wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling him off Sasha and throwing him across the room.

Suddenly, Sasha found the strength to drag herself back against the wall.

Her shaking hands came to press on her wound. Blood drenched her tattered gown and with the pain, she screamed for West.

*****

West, Rider, and Tanner were camped across the street, inside another villa.

"He is making me dizzy," Tanner sleepily said as he watched West pace around.

Rider was looking out the window at the far side of the room. "Quiet."

West stopped and rushed to stand beside Rider. From a distance, they saw a shadow running to the side of the house. Craning their neck, they watched as she stopped and looked up at the window.

His heart hammered against his chest. "How long has it been since Willoghby arrived?" he murmured.

"Five or so minutes," Tanner replied, joining them by the window. "Bloody tarnation, who is that woman?" he asked with awe as they watched Gabrielle climb up the window with naught but her hands and feet. "Is that possible? Or did the brickman simply do a poor job?"

West whirled around and grabbed his coat. "It is time."

The three of them rushed across the street in less than a minute, scattering to different locations around West's villa. Rider followed Gabrielle's path and walked to the side of the building. Tanner signaled with his hand and three men wearing hats, their faces shadowed, walked out from the villa next door. One guarded the basement entrance. The other two went to the other side and the back of the villa.

Rider went straight inside by the main entrance, the door unlocked just as Darren left it. Tanner was behind him and they ran up the stairs as quietly as they could.

West dug his feet into the carpeted floor. When he heard Sasha scream, his heart leaping to his throat.

In no time, they burst into the room. His eyes scanned for Sasha. She on the floor, leaning against the wall at the other side of the room, her nightdress torn.

"Get her!" she grunted at him.

Then his eyes went straight to the two figures at the foot of the bed.

Gabrielle snapped her head around and immediately jumped away from Willoghby and straight to the window. But at that moment, Rider had already climbed inside and caught her. The two of them struggled while West and Tanner grabbed Willoghby from the floor.

"Your Grace," Darren said, voice almost quaking with equal fear and courage, walked into the room with a rope. He threw it toward West.

Tanner, much bigger than Willoghby, was not having trouble keeping the man's face pressed on the floor. Rider, however was barely succeeding with his catch. Gabrielle, in shirt and trousers, lifted both feet, attempting to roll over Rider's shoulder, but West caught her with a smile.

Her green eyes scowled at him, her nostrils flared, her teeth bare.

Two more men entered the room and West handed the rope to one, his eyes on Gabrielle. "You are one elusive woman, Gabrielle," he said as she was bound by the rope.

He turned and walked over to Willoghby who was laughing and groaning while Tanner wrapped him with a rope. He looked up at West. "I know your secrets, Blackwood. You think you can fool everyone—"

West's fist landed straight into the bastard's bloody face. "That is for messing with my Belle, you bloody bastard," he growled just as Darren's shaky voice said, "Your Grace!"

West immediately straightened to turn to Darren who was bent over Sasha.

She was now slumped on the floor and against the wall.

He lowered on one knee in front of her and peered, cupping her bent face. "Sasha, are you all right?" he asked, tilting her head up.

"Your Grace... she's..."

Her eyes were half-closed, and she faintly smiled. Then she blinked, ever so slowly.

West frowned at her. "Sasha?"

She swallowed hard and bent her head.

He did the same, his gaze trailing down to her torn gown.

And it was then that he saw it.

Her shaking hand lifted from where it rested, filled with blood.

"Darren, call for Pemberton," West growled.

He scooped Sasha in his arms. "Don't worry, darling," he whispered with a grunt. "The doctor is on his way."

Darren was motionless with shock, frozen on his knees.

"The doctor, Darren," West ordered, his voice calm and utterly cold, a powerful command.

Darren shot to his feet and whirled around the room in panic before he rushed out the door.

Unaware of the sudden stillness in the room around him as Rider, Tanner, and everyone else followed him with their eyes, he carefully placed Sasha on the bed. "Sasha?" he gently whispered above her, pressing his hand on the wound. She winced with pain. "Stay awake, darling," he begged, voice slightly shaking. She gripped his wrist, swallowing hard. Her eyes fluttered open once again. She moistened her pale lips.

"I feel cold, West."

"I know. But do not sleep," he whispered back, pressing his hand into her wound.

Willoghby's chuckle echoed around the room, but not long enough before Tanner sent him a powerful blow, rendering him unconscious.

West's jaw tightened. She was closing her eyes.

"Darren! The doctor!" he shouted with fury as Sasha's hand fell limp to her side.