The flashing blue lights of the police cruisers had finally faded from the driveway, leaving Croft Manor in a silence that felt heavier than the storm.
In the nursery–the only room with a lock Victoria controlled–William sat on the edge of the rocking chair, a first-aid kit open on his lap. Victoria sat opposite him on the ottoman, her knee skinned from the fall on the stairs.
“Hold still,” William murmured, dabbing antiseptic on the wound. His hands, usually so steady, were trembling slightly.
Victoria watched him. The “Territorial Patriarch” mask had slipped, revealing the terrified man underneath. “You tackled her,” she whispered. “You could have been killed.”
“I would have killed her before I let her touch you,” William said, his voice low and gritty. He applied a bandage, his thumb lingering on her skin. He looked up, his eyes dark with exhaustion. “I meant what I said to the police, Victoria. About the papers.”
Victoria pulled her leg back slightly. “Why did you keep them? Why let me believe I was divorced?”
“Because I knew,” William admitted, dropping the gauze. “Deep down, even when I was trying to play the martyr for Seraphina, I knew I couldn’t breathe without you. I kept the papers in the safe because they were the only thing that still tied you to me. It was selfish. It was manipulative. And I don’t regret it.”
“You trapped me,” Victoria said, but there was no venom in her voice.
“I kept you,” William corrected. He leaned forward, framing her face with his hands. “I couldn’t let you go. And tonight… seeing her lunge at you… I realized I will never let you go.”
Victoria looked at him. She saw the flaws, the obsession, the sheer force of his will. But she also saw the man who had slept on the floor to guard her door. The adrenaline of the attack was fading, replaced by a desperate, magnetic pull.
“Then don’t,” she whispered.
William kissed her. It wasn’t gentle; it was a collision of relief and possession. He kissed her as if verifying she was still there, still alive. Victoria grabbed the lapels of his shirt, pulling him closer, surrendering to the safety of his arms in the house that had tried to kill her.