A/N: I do try to leave as few notes before chapters as possible, but I do want to mark this and the next chapter as being violent. It's in no way meant to be gratuitous, but be forewarned that what you may read in this chapter as well as chapter 56 was difficult to write and may be disturbing to readers.

If you wish to skip these chapters PM me and I will summarize them for you so that you may resume reading when it's over.

Thanks for your interest and your feedback. I would really appreciate your feedback with this one.

Gabrina

Paladin55

Sophia was asleep when she heard Philippe's horse return. Inhaling, she forced herself to sit up. The book she had selected earlier in the night fell from her lap onto the floor. Ignoring it, she straightened her nightdress, pushed herself out of the armchair and turned the lamp up.

Having her brother home was a relief, as she worried about him when he was gone late at night. At least this time she knew where he was and what he was doing, unlike the previous night.

Still, she would reproach him for being away so long. It was almost two in the morning and he had finally decided to return.

"Ledgers cannot be that exciting," she mumbled as she wandered into the kitchen to heat another kettle of water.

The moment she entered the kitchen she heard her brother pounding on the door. Brow furrowed, she turned and walked back to the front door. Philippe's key was not on the hook by the front door, she realized. Perhaps he had lost it, which was unlike him. Philippe was by far the most reliable and responsible person she knew, which would explain the pounding. He was most likely livid.

"One moment," she called, thinking that she should have left the door unlocked for him to enter when he returned.

Turning the latch, Sophia jumped out of the way as the door forcefully swung open. Before she could scream, Karl clamped his hand over her mouth and backed her against the wall.

"Now," he said, pinning her with his body. "I finish what I started."

-o-

A dream of childhood roused Erik in the middle of the night. With the dark hills and a small, crumbling shack still vivid in his mind, he sat up in bed and gasped.

It had been many years since he'd seen those wooded hillsides and the quaint cottage. Strange, he thought, that he'd almost forgotten them. He'd been content there, he thought, at least for a few years. Why had he allowed that time to slip from memory? And why was it now on his mind now?

Fidelio barked at the foot of the bed, drawing Erik's attention. Turning his head, Erik found his dog standing very still, his ears down and his body rigid. Twice Erik slapped his thigh, but the hound remained unmoving. He barked again, this time the sound ending in a low growl. Erik didn't move, unsure of why Fidelio was behaving in this manner.

With a frown, Erik stared at the dog, thinking Fidelio was growing too big and too aggressive for his own good. Perhaps it was because he had frightened the poor pup earlier when he threatened to hit him, Erik thought, prepared to take the blame. Or perhaps this was why Fidelio was abandoned in the first place. For such a young animal, Fidelio had a tremendous set of large and puppy-sharp teeth. A bite would most likely not be lethal, but it would be scarring nonetheless and painful at that.

Erik tried a third time to call Fidelio to him and the furry creature finally obeyed. He dropped down to his belly and turned over submissively. With his tail thumping the floor, he tugged Erik's pajama bottoms, his rear end wiggling.

"Now you wish to play?" Erik said under his breath, still wondering why the dog was behaving so strangely. "It's the middle of the night."

Rolling to his feet, Fidelio gave a full body shake before he trotted toward the bedroom door, stopping only to see if his master was behind him. When he saw Erik still sitting, he bounded back and placed his paws on the bed. Sad, dark eyes stared up at Erik, pleading his master to abandon his bed.

"You have five minutes," Erik said, rising to his feet. Grabbing his cape, he glanced out the window and saw the light on in Sophia's home. Philippe must have finally returned.

-o-

Philippe vomited the moment he woke up in the snow, his body curled up in the fetal position. Blood was stuck to his eyelashes and eyebrows as well as his left temple. Beside him in the snow was a puddle of crimson.

Struggling to remember what had happened, Philippe sat up and glanced around, his vision still blurred and his head pounding. Once he was standing, he found the board that had knocked him out tossed in the snow and remembered his horse disappearing and the attack. He'd never seen his assailant's face, but he knew who had struck him.

"Sophia," Philippe whispered. He dragged himself forward, barely able to see. He needed to reach her but he had no idea how long he had been unconscious.

Reaching the fence, Philippe fell to his knees and vomited again before cradling his head in his hands. His hands were numb from the cold, his body trembling, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't abandon Sophia, not like this. Even if it killed him he had to reach her before Karl did. He had promised his father that he would watch over his sister and mother. As his mother lay dying—he had failed his father—he made a promise not only to his mother, but to himself as well, that Sophia would always come first. Once again he had failed his parents, as well as his sister. He couldn't do it again.

Forcing himself to his feet, Philippe began to run and scream his sister's name, praying that she was either with Monsieur Belmont or Citrine. In his heart, Philippe hoped she was with Monsieur Belmont.

-o-

Karl mercilessly ripped the skirt of Sophia's dress as he pinned her to the wall with his shoulder. Grunting, he pushed against her, displaying his strength and dominance over her.

"Your brother is dead," he said between his teeth. "And this whole damned place is dark. Once your lover wakes, he'll find nothing but your body lying broken and used on the floor," he said before he grabbed her by the face and wrenched her head to the side. "Do you wish to know how I killed your brother?"

Sophia bit the palm of Karl's hand, her teeth sinking into his flesh until she tasted blood. When he drew away from her, she managed to yelp in terror and dart to the side, her eyes trained on the open door.

The torn fabric on Sophia's skirts tangled her feet as she stepped forward; she nearly tripped herself. Shouting a curse, Karl grabbed Sophia by the shoulders and threw her to the floor.

As her vision started to fade, Sophia heard the clank of Karl's belt and then the startling feel of leather around her neck. She blinked and attempted to draw her hands up to her throat, but Karl had pinned her hands beneath his knees.

"He never saw me coming," Karl said as he pulled the belt tighter. "I hit him in the face with a board. Split his skull in two."

Sophia continued her desperate struggle. The belt cut off her air and her words, and gasping like a fish, Sophia kicked her feet on the floor as she felt Karl rip the remainder of her skirt and toss it aside.

Her body wrenched side to side until one of her hands came free. Instantly her fingers went to her throat until she found the strap and pried it away, gulping in another breath. Her action was met with the back of Karl's hand hard across her face. With all of her strength, she tightened her stomach and swiped at Karl's face, her nails scratching across his cheek and closed eyes.

"You're worthless to me," Karl spit in her face. He caught her by the wrist and slammed her hand into the floor until she cried out in pain, her struggling ending long enough for him to pin her once more. "What would a man such as myself ever want with a blind bitch?"

Anger overruled fear and she wriggled and fought, knowing that if she had bit him once she could do it again. The belt tightened around her throat, the pain almost overwhelming. She had to fight him, she knew, had to fight him or die and feel nothing ever again.

Karl realized it as well and grabbed her by the shoulders. He drove her into the floor once and stunned her, paralyzed her long enough to bring his trousers down. Sophia blinked, the darkness at the edge of her vision becoming a curtain over her eyes.

And suddenly she knew what he was about to do, what she feared much more than him beating her bloody. This had nothing to do with love or sex or a man's needs. This was his power, his terrible, dominating power. First he had taken away her security, then he had murdered her brother, and now he was going to take everything else she had.

With what little strength she had, Sophia fought, her legs kicking wildly, her shoulders wrenching from side to side.

Barely able to stay conscious, she felt herself on the verge of losing more than her wits.