Chapter 30 Tying Loose Ends

Nicholas

Viscount Redington was back at Sinclair's side by late afternoon. He made sure to bring enough clothes for him and his girl, never wanting to leave her side until she was healed.

Mrs. Dee came with him to visit and brought some of Sin's favorite baked goodies. By the time he arrived, the room was filled with vases of fresh roses, stuffed and cuddly plush animals, confections, and get-well-soon gifts. The woman resting in his arms would appreciate all his family and friends had done for her. A kind and gentle soul who didn't deserve such a cold-hearted mother.

No matter, Rebecca, the dowager, was more than happy to fill that void.

His dark gaze mapped every inch of the delicate beauty visible to him, wishing he could take away her pain. Despite the number of painkillers injected into her, she still winced in her sleep, twisting and turning, trying to find a comfortable spot to lessen her ache. Her suffering was more than her wounds, her soul was shattered by the woman she once loved and worship on a pedestal.

But he was here to help her put back the pieces. To show her true love does exist. He would mend her soul, loving her every minute of every day until she was completely whole. Their future was looming before them. He was determined than ever to lead her to it.

Huntley has ordered the most advanced hearing aide for her. The device would be ready in a couple of days.

Sinclair would be dependent on it more than ever. Her hearing impairment had not been a hindrance to him. He would happily use sign language for the rest of their lives, however, he knew she would prefer to talk and hear him. He wouldn't begrudge her of her wants. He was here after all to make sure she gets all of it. Anything for his sweetheart.

The Duke of Cerdic was back at Whitehall to clean up the mess Lord Tanning, his wife, and his heir, Paul Adley had made. He and the House of Lords will convene to strip the scum of his title and properties. Moreover, they had trusted the duke to protect the reputation of the leaders and do whatever was necessary to achieve that goal.

Though Nicholas had wanted to be back at the warehouse, inflict more damage on their prisoners, his peers had convinced him Sinclair needed him more. After the rage clouding his judgment dissipated, he went home, showered, got all the things he needed to stay at the hospital with his girl indefinitely.

He had been praying for some time for her to wake up, he wanted to see her eyes, talk to her. Tell her he loved her so much, it didn't matter if they used the sign language for the rest of their lives. But he couldn't be selfish. Sleep made her heal faster, and she wouldn't be feeling too much pain from her wounds. She would only wake up for a few minutes, checked he was holding her, then her eyes would flutter, swiftly going back to rest.

Nicholas's mind was working overtime, thinking about what Huntley had informed him. Her delicate condition bothered him. He suppressed his groan of frustration. At some point, he would have to let her know.

"Nicholas," she murmured in her sleep, feeling his restlessness. His heart skipped a beat. Pressing his lips on her hair, he whispered words of assurances. She might not hear him but he knew she would feel.

"I'm here, my sweet. I'm not going anywhere." For tonight, they would rest.

They would deal with the news the doctor had dropped for them when the time was right. His only wish was that would make her happy as well.

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Lady Tanning/Sylvia

Hate. That was all she knew.

Revenge. Was her only thought when she trapped Sinclair's father into marrying her, leaving her twin sister alone and hurt by her actions.

It didn't matter as long as she got her retribution. Ever since they were kids, her twin was always favored. Sylvia had always lived in her shadows. While Sarah was the prettiest, the smartest, and the brightest. Their parents adored her perfect sister. She hated them for it. She poisoned them when she turned eighteen. That was her first kill.

Being the eldest by a few minutes, Sarah always had the first pick for everything. Including boys.

Robert. The love of Sylvia's life. She saw him first. Had claimed him. Yet her bitch of sister took him from her.

As predicted, he picked her twin sister over her. Leaving Sylvia devastated. She went away when the two got married. Only returning upon the news of her sister's demise.

Elated. Knowing, the chance had presented itself. She integrated herself into their household.

Sarah gave birth to a healthy baby girl, however, pre-eclampsia was a bitch. She had a stroke and couldn't take care of her baby nor her husband anymore. Remaining immobile on their marriage bed, she couldn't do anything.

That's when Sylvia became part of the little family. Day by day, she seduced Robert. In love with the man, she also took care of his baby. In time, he gave in. And they fucked right in front of his wife, her sister. She watched them with tears running down her cheeks, paralyzed, she couldn't do anything.

The joy Sylvia felt that day. Her ultimate revenge. A month later, she had convinced her lover, Sarah's husband, to send his ailing wife to a hospice and he relented.

Filing a divorce a year later, they got married.

For a time, they live as a family. Until the institution had called and informed them his ex-wife had been making progress. Their patient was able to blink, moved her fingers and toes. The news brought Robert out of his lust spell. Remorse for his infidelity made him unpredictable. He tried to find Sarah. No longer eager to go home to his child and new wife.

No. Sylvia would never allow it. In secret, she worked to conspire behind his back. The money she had saved from her years working as an exotic dancer was used to pay for Sarah's transfer to a different care center, miles away from them. Hidden. One Robert would never be able to find easily. It drove him insane. But his search stopped for a time.

She thought that was it. They would be back to normal. Or so she thought.

But she saw the change in him. Robert became obsessed with finding Sarah. Neglecting her and his daughter. They always fight and it always ended up him leaving, only returning the next day still ignoring her.

Sylvia was never enough for him. That's the time she became dependent on alcohol and drugs to numb the pain. For years, she had hoped. Until he found her. Sarah. And he decided to bring her back.

No. That can never happen. The night before he left them, she did something terrible. Cutting the brakes in his car, she thought her actions would hinder his plans. But it didn't.

He was killed the next day. The love of her life was killed because of her selfish sister. She had vowed Sarah would pay. Until then, Sinclair would suffer in Sylvia's hands.

The brat did. She took pleasure in inflicting pain. Eventually, she grew tired of it. Deciding she was better off without her stupid sister's child, she happily washed her hands off of her and left their pathetic home.

The best decision she wisely made. Tanning was generous. He was an odd lover, however, he gave her everything her heart desires. She didn't love him. She had always been in love with Robert. But the old lord let her do anything, including getting involved in illicit affairs. He knew of course.

Sylvia had also known, her new husband had an exotic taste of pleasure. She turned a blind eye, too. So long as her needs were met, who was she to complain. To the outside world, to the ton, they were a respectable couple.

Until Sarah's brat and the Viscount came into the picture.

Sylvia's hate returned with a vengeance. Memories of the past haunted her once more. And she began to lose her mind. All she wanted was to ruin Sinclair.

She did.

Now, it's her turn to suffer.

***

Her dreams from the past startled her, waking up, sobbed at the pain throbbing on her belly and collar bone from her gunshot wounds, she gasped for air. Her tired eyes flickered. Then opened.

She groaned, tried to get up. Her face went to a figure lying a meter from her. She cried when she realized what's in front of her.

On the floor, she saw her husband, Lord Tanning. The skin on his arm was peeled, crimson, showing pulsing veins, sinew, and muscles. Whizzing labored gusts of air left his lungs. Naked bar the pristine white bandages on his crotch. His aging face showed pain though he was highly sedated.

-What have they done to you?-

What was in store for her?

Blinking, she surveyed the bright room where they were kept. A wide rectangular mirror facing a stainless table and two chairs. While she occupied a single cot, her wrists handcuffed to the steel frame.

Someone was watching them. Panic made her eyes glazed in terror. "Whoever is listening, I...I will pay you...please...I...you will never see me again. I will vanish. Please...I have money...lots of it. Just help me escape." Sylvia pleaded. Her gaze never leaving the two-way glass.

No response.

After a few minutes, a deep dark chuckle came from the speakers overhead making her tremble. Her body shuddered in fright, unlike anything she had felt before. "The only way you are coming out of that room is in a trash bag, chopped to pieces."

The huntress turned hunted sobbed harder, knowing the truth in those words. "No!" She screamed. "Let me talk to Sinclair! I know something that she doesn't. Let me talk to her!"

Another silence lingered.

A bargain. Yes. That was the best course. They would free her if they knew. Set her free and she'd reveal her darkest secret.

She felt drowsy. Trying to fight it, she blinked but the drugs they gave her were stronger than her will.

***

She had no idea how long she was sleeping nor if it was night or day, what she knew was, she was facing the devil when she opened her eyes. He, who had the face of a fallen angel. Dark hair, calculating dark eyes, face impassive, his attention on her. His bare torso was full of elaborate tattoos.

She had heard of him from whispered awe of the ladies, young and old, bored matrons, who had the pleasure of gracing the demon lover's bed before he disappeared. Speculation had said, the man was the bastard of royalty, from a crowned prince nonetheless. He had shunned society to spite his sire and governed the underground instead. Just like the most powerful duke, he had entree anywhere and yet had chosen to remain in the dark.

"So, Lady Tanning, I heard you are in the mood to sing." He drawled.

"You are," she gulped. "The devil." She completed her words in fear.

He smirked. "Aye. Your husband had a lot to answer to me."

"I am not part of it." Her tired eyes implored.

"You are also a consummate liar, my lady." He murmured, moving closer. A stun baton in his hand. "I have ways. Don't you worry." He kept twirling the rod. "Do you recognize this? This is your husband's favorite torture device." He continued mockingly.

"No! You...you..can't touch me! I will only speak to Sinclair." Inside, she was quaking. Crumbling to pieces.

He chuckled. "Who said I will be touching you? I would never degrade myself. The Viscount and his lady will be visiting you soon. And then the hyenas can have you." With those words, he deflected his attention to her spouse, Lord Tanning. And the torture began. He ignored her screams, her curses, her pleas, and made it seem like a ritual, one that gave him peace. He made her watch, satisfaction blazed on his face.

When he was finished, his upper body was bathed in blood, he turned to the bitch, she could only stare at him in shock, her voice raspy, she uttered in a shattered voice, her false vigor gone. "You are truly the devil." Though what her husband had confessed was beyond diabolical. Lord Tanning was a member of the true monsters of society. The ugly part was, Sylvia had known it all along.

In denial. This was her downfall.

"We are just beginning, madam." He promised. "Next will be your boy toy. But we will have to wait for Redington before we start." He bowed graciously. Except for his bare torso dripping with blood, his grand gesture couldn't have been better if he tried if he was in his tuxedo and the middle of the ballroom. He threw back his head in rich laughter at her shocked expression then he left her alone in her misery.

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Nicholas

Ten more days at the hospital, Sinclair was improving. She no longer slept on her belly, though she found it more comfortable sleeping on top of him. He didn't mind. He was used to it. Preferring to be as close to her as possible.

Their tenth day looked promising, she woke up with a faint smile, her soft brown orbs no longer registered discomfort. He felt her staring at him intently, his whole body became alive. Keeping his eyes close to savor the moment, he murmured. "Good morning, sweetheart." His deep voice was gravelly from sleep.

After a moment, he heard a faint answer. "Good morning, Nick." There was still a purplish bruise on her jaw, reminding him of her state. She hasn't fully healed yet.

"How are you feeling?" Her smile faltered. Then she signed slowly.

-It's too loud. She complained. Referring to the hearing aide attached to her right ear.

-Do you want me to remove it for now?

Sinclair nodded hesitantly. He cupped her cheek, thumb brushing the faint blush, savoring her warm skin for a moment. Extracting the device, he placed it on a side table.

-Ej will have it adjusted today. We can always sign, sweet. He kissed her forehead. - Let me carry you to the bathroom, okay?

-I can walk.

-And I want to hold you. Please let me.

-Okay. But you stay outside. Rising from the bed, he reached for her and hefted her slight weight in his arms, he entered the ensuite bath and deposited her in the water closet. He smirked as her skin turned ruddy with embarrassment. His lips touched hers. Satisfied when she clung to him. Parting after some time, he watched desire etched her delicate features. His thumb glided over her moist lips. Her eyes opened.

-I've kissed, licked, and pleasured every inch of you. Never be ashamed for needing me.

With those parting words, he left her stunned inside the bathroom. Never going far just in case she needed him, he hovered outside the door, reading messages from his phone.

Sinclair had been in there for quite some time. Realizing it had been more than thirty minutes not hearing any movements, he knocked. "Sweetheart." No answer. "Are you okay?" Waited. He frowned. He was about to knock again when he heard it. It was faint but he was so tuned with her, he knew what was happening. Not waiting for her to answer, he opened the door in a flash.

Halting, he sucked in a sharp breath with what he saw. His eyes stung. And his heart constricted with the love he felt for her.

Sinclair, his fiancee, was leaning on the vanity, naked, she was crying silently, her eyes on the mirror reflecting the ragged angry red wounds on her back. She mumbled something, tracing the ragged flesh on the back of her shoulder. More tears dropped to her ashen cheeks.

Her small body shaking, tears flowed freely, unaware he was standing by the door, sharing her anguish. He felt powerless. He wanted to take away all her pain and he didn't know what to do.

Then she gasped. Finally, glimpsing his tall form in the confined space from the mirror. A small sob escaped her lips. Her eyes pleading. Comprehending she needed him, he closed the distance and held her in his arms tightly.

He kept holding her until there were no more tears left until all he heard were hiccups coming from her. Tremors ran on every part of her body, Nicholas kept caressing her. His lips were on her hair, giving solace. His voice was tender and loving.

With tears spiked gaze, she peeked at him from under her wet lashes. She freed her hands from his embrace to sign.

-I won't be able to wear my wedding dress.

She ducked her head. He wouldn't have it. Scars or no scars, she was beautiful inside and out. With two fingers, he lifted her chin.

-Yes, you can. We will go to the best cosmetic surgeon to remove every one of your scars. I will give you anything to make you smile once more. If that includes postponing our wedding for another month, I will gladly do it. It's mere formality anyway. In my heart, you are already my wife. My Viscountess.

He was rewarded with a wobbly smile at his declaration. He was grateful he could do that to her.

-Thank you for saving me, Nicholas. I love you so much.

-No need to thank me. I would do anything for you. Come on, let's get you dressed. I don't want you catching a cold.

He helped her into a day dress this time. Helping her tie her silky black hair in a ponytail.

Back to their hospital bed, he served her an English breakfast delivered from his sister's restaurant. Satisfied with their food and her returning appetite. He still couldn't help but watched her carefully for any twinge of pain, thankfully none came and they both cleared their plates.

-Nick, can we have some frozen yogurt? I also want Nutella and pineapple. For some reason, I am still starving.

Careful to keep his expression bland, he nodded.

-I will call Mrs. Dee.

He heard himself say though deep inside he was contemplating on when to tell Sinclair.

-When can we go home?

He helped her settle beside him on a couch.

-Maybe in a few days. EJ will be doing his rounds today. In the meantime, maybe it is time to talk about what happened? Only if you are ready.

He added to reassure her there's no hurry.

His Sinclair was tough. Her chin firmed before she nodded.

-I want to see her when I get out of here.

Nicholas had resigned to the idea that she might demand it from him. But to hear her say it was still doing something to his overprotective nature. He didn't want his sweet to be anywhere that bitch. However, she needed closure.

-You will. I promise.

-Okay.

She sighed. Her head leaned on his shoulder for a moment.

-There was nothing to be suspicious about that day. We were so excited because I finally decided on a wedding dress.....

He listened. Not interrupting as she recounted what happened the day she was kidnapped. She was opening herself to him instead of bottling it all inside.

For that alone, he was grateful he found a strong woman to spend the rest of his life with.

He still had something very important to tell her. Maybe after they visited Sylvia, in a romantic setting, he would find enough courage to do so.

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Sinclair

How could she be so lucky? Freedom had never tasted so good. She had battle scars, the man walking beside her, his arm around her waist, guided her to the isolated building outskirts of London, was proud of her.

After her emotional day, he kept her in his embrace, confessing his fears of losing her. It was her turn to calm him, promising she would always be by his side and she would never leave him. The day turned into declarations. And their night into soft kisses and comforting embraces. Five more days she stayed at the hospital, then Huntley released her with a firm warning not to overdo it. The doctor also asked her to come back in two weeks for another check-up. That puzzled her but trusting him and Nicholas, she nodded.

Today, she was closing a chapter in her book.

They were entering a very secluded and secured place, with intimidating men guarding the surrounding area.

A man, she was sure in Nicholas's class met them. He was just as intimidating as the group of powerful men she had come to know and respect. The difference was, she could glimpse some tattoos on his neck and knuckles, the only part of his skin his perfect Cavalli suit did not cover.

"Sweetheart, let me introduce you, Lucifer. He is an honorary member of the club." Nicholas declared.

Sinclair smiled faintly. Her fiance didn't allow her to shake hands with the man. She rolled her eyes.

"A pleasure to meet you, my lady," he bowed gracefully. His dark eyes revealed his amusement at the Viscount's possessiveness.

"Thank you," was her only response. She couldn't deal with formalities for the moment. She knew why she had come.

Lucifer, an apt name for their host inclined his head in understanding and guided them to where Lady Tanning was kept.

Sinclair watched the woman tied to a wall with heavy chains from the two-way mirror for a few minutes. Unkept, her dark hair with streaks of grey disheveled, in a hospital gown, her face and body gaunt. Her eyes were bloodshot with dark circles around them. She was a far cry from the cruel and elegant woman Sinclair had met at Lady Morgan's drawing-room. Not the same woman who had tortured her to not end during her captivity. She felt no pity. Then Sylvia began screaming.

"Sinclair, you bitch! I know you are in there! Come and face me! Sinclair! You will like what I am going to tell you!"

"I want to talk to her alone." Her words surprised Nicholas and he tightened his hold on her protectively.

"Sinclair!"

"Are you sure, sweet?" He asked. Anxious.

She gazed up at him, smiled, on her tippy toes, she pecked his lips. "Yes. I am not afraid of her." He was still hesitant. "Please, baby. I need this."

His face grave, he nodded. "But, I will join you right away if she poses a threat."

"Of course, you will." She pecked him once more. "I am ready."

Though her heart was hammering, she knew it was time to face her demons alone.

He opened the door for her and she entered quietly. Instantly, Lady Tanning's screams ceased. She was gazing at Sinclair, wide-eyed, then she smirked. "I can't believe you've survived."

"Don't you know, Sylvia? I am a survivor. While you..." The young lady, confident, traveled her eyes up and down the woman's form insultingly. "You fared well in a prison."

"You will free me in exchange for what I know," Sylvia said.

For the first time in her presence, Sinclair laughed. "That will never happen. I'd sooner let them torture you for that information than free you." Did she think she would show mercy after what she had done to her? "I am no longer gullible, Sylvia. You should know that. You have made me what I am today. I am stronger because of you." She meant it. Nicholas gave her life and love but the woman before her gave her the motivation to surpass all the trials she had to face since she was a child.

Sylvia's eyes widened in fear. Good. Now, they were on even ground. "You wouldn't do that. I am your mother!"

"No, you're not. I heard you while you were torturing me. It was only bits and pieces but I listened." She strolled closer to the prisoner, stopping only a few feet before settling down on a chair. "Where did you bury my mother, your twin sister?" Her throat closed upon saying those words. It hurt a lot. As if a piece of her had been torn from her soul but she needed to know.

There was silence. Sylvia tried to stand, her chains prevented her from going to Sinclair. "I...I didn't kill her."

"You did. Admit it to me now or later, you will still be imprisoned for the rest of your life." She needed to find her real mum. Even if all she would ever have was the location where her birth mother was buried. "Now, Sylvia! Or swear on all that's holy, you will be leaving this room in pieces!" She hissed, losing patience.

The old woman gulped. Knowing her visitor meant business. "A small village in Dublin, Ireland. She was buried with your father." Her head hung and her voice cracked.

Sinclair sucked in a sharp breath and her world felt like it was spinning. She felt like puking. She was hyperventilating. In an instant, she felt comforting arms caged her and she leaned towards him. "She killed them both." She whispered in anguish on his chest and she tried to breathe in his scent to anchor her.

"Breathe, sweet. Look at me," he cupped her chin and raised her eyes towards his. "Breathe. In and out. That's it. Good, girl. Once more."

"Nick," she mumbled but she followed his instructions. After a moment, the tightness in her heart slowly dissipated. "I can't...I am done...with her."

He kissed her forehead. "Okay, sweet. Wait for me outside. I will wrap it up here. Just tell me what you want to do with her."

Her regard went back to Sylvia for the last time, then she said with finality, "You will be incarcerated to the worst asylum there is. Alone and helpless, in a dark room with no windows, day by day you will lose your grasp on sanity. You will be starved to death and you will go to sleep with your insides eating itself. I will forget you the moment I step out of here. I will marry the man I love, have beautiful children with him that I am sure he will adore, and I will be happy for the rest of my life while you rot in hell. Goodbye, Sylvia."

Saying those words, made her free. She nodded at Nicholas then at Lucifer. Leaving the chamber, a burden lifted from her shoulders, she stepped outside while she waited for them to discuss Sylvia's transport.

Nicholas would help her find where her parents were buried. Sinclair knew her wish would be carried out without hesitation. Everything she ever needed, her future husband gave her.

Now, it's time for her to give her everything to him. No past haunting them. Only the future awaits them with a promise of a life full of love and happiness.

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