Bastien changed his clothes with trembling hands and a steel-cold stare. The heat of the shower hadn’t washed away the guilt weighing on his shoulders. He couldn’t let this go. Not after what that woman had tried to do.

He walked out of the mansion with a steady stride and descended into the dungeons. At the entrance, Lucca stood like a loyal shadow. As soon as he saw Bastien, he straightened up immediately.

—How is the lady? —he asked in a low, almost reverent voice.

—Better —Bastien replied without stopping—. But now I have unfinished business.

He opened the dungeon door slowly. Inside, the silence was heavy, almost sacred. Dianna was curled up in a corner, trembling. Her once-red dress was now a pile of rags. Her body was covered in marks—bruises, scratches, swollen skin. The remains of her makeup were the only sign of the woman she used to be.

She was filthy, her hair tangled, her lips cracked. And her body… was covered in fluids that weren’t hers. A mixture of sweat, tears, saliv