Memories of my captivity—my willing captivity—crashed over me. The humiliation I'd faced at Cyrus's hands, the power he'd exerted over me to make me act against my nature. I'd forgiven him of all these things and effectively erased them from my consciousness. But they would never be gone from my heart. God, how I'd taken Nathan for granted since he'd freed me.

The door to my old bedroom was closed. I stalked to it, flung it open and crossed to the mammoth bed. With one hard shove, I managed to move the frame, and heard the unmistakable whisper of paper slipping. I felt in the gap blindly until I found what I was looking for. The drawing Nathan had made of me, the one I'd carried with me when I left him for Cyrus.

The paper was as crisp as the day I'd hid it. I unfolded it and looked down at the woman Nathan had seen standing in his shop. It was by no means accurate. For one, I rarely wore my hair down. And my eyes weren't quite as big and innocent-looking as he'd made them. And I was older now. Sure, I hadn't aged physically, but sometimes, like now, I wanted to get in a time machine and go back and give the younger me a good hard slap.

Of course, this was presuming I'd learned anything at all. In another six months, would I want to come back to this moment and slap myself, too?

The clock on the mantel in the parlor chimed, and I remembered I wasn't here to sightsee. This wasn't my room anymore, this wasn't Cyrus's house. And I had a job to do.

I went to the hutch and lifted the latch—how she thought something this flimsy would have kept Cyrus out, I had no clue—and ducked through the secret door.

The anteroom was the only part of Cyrus's suite I'd been in, besides his bedroom. I'm sure there were more secret doors, but I'd never seen them or known where they led. My suspicions were raised solely by the seemingly effortless way the guards and Clarence could be summoned. The door to the bedroom was open, though, so I slipped through it.

I was expecting a more visceral response to the sight of the bed where Cyrus and I had shared our intimate times. I didn't know it then, but he'd let his guard down with me. When he'd asked if I loved him, he'd opened himself up, despite his past hurts. No wonder my rejection had sent him over the edge.