Duke of Tudor

I fought. It was a losing battle. I ran. His relentlessness ensnared me. I'm a token. A trinket. A toy for Victor's amusement. He's seductive. A dangerous deviant. Although I can't stop the madness, staying is lethal.

Our first encounter, I bloody saved the beauty, or so I thought. That cheeky Luxury Whitson said she needed no savior. And while my greatest trait is taking lives, she brought out a side of me I never knew. I decline my next mark—who I soon learned is her father. I revive her. She hates me. I concede to a new challenge: keep both Whitsons safe and tame Luxury. 

I've buried the woman I once wanted to spend my life with. Lost the son that I should be teaching to play rugby now. To lose Luxury Whitson is a pain worse than death. As a duke and a billionaire, I've always gotten what I wanted. She was always meant to be mine. Mine to own. Now, all I own are my bloody tears, and I’m not ready to let those fall yet.