I should have known that he wasn’t okay, during the last few days his head had begun to shake, as it always does when he is anxious. Yet I ignored it.

For a reason that I am not yet ready to admit to myself, as I know that if it is to be the truth then my heart will shatter. So now I wander down the dark, isolated hallways of Halfboonsmanor, hoping for a lie.

As my feet scrape against the ancient tiles I begin to hear a muffled voice coming from the door on my left. My breathe suddenly begins to hitch as I brace myself for what or who awaits behind it.

After what seems like hours, but what was probably just a few minutes, my shaking hand reaches for the doorknob. Then I twist it and push.

I don’t believe that anything in my entire life could have prepared me for the horrifying scene that lay beyond that red rusty door. Which made my very being crumble and salty tears soon pick at my eyes.

For right in front of me was the deadly still body of my brother, and his capture was standing above him, his hands covered in a death-defying red.

This man was my brothers murderer. His kidnapper. But to me:

This man was Max Aston, my Fiancé...