“Where are you going?”

He gave her a stern look as he put on his belt. If she was contemplating giving herself fully to him, surely she knew that prying into his personal life wouldn’t be acceptable.

“You’re going to see her, aren’t you?”

A tear slid down her cheek, and part of him wanted to punish her for it, though she hadn’t yet signed away her free will. Even without malice and intent, tears could manipulate, and he wouldn’t be controlled by her emotional outbursts, no matter how sincere they might be.

Leo didn’t give her the satisfaction of an answer. Instead he grabbed his wallet and keys off the night table and flicked off the light. “Go to sleep. I’m locking this door behind me. I’ll let myself in when I get back.”

He was a bastard for doing this, but Faith would never consent to his desires. She didn’t have it in her. She was merely bargaining for her life. Caprice was his last chance for a while to get his needs met from someone he wasn’t in danger of developing an emotional attachment to or damaging beyond repair.

Leo went through the kitchen to the wine cellar door, then down below to the den and grabbed his large, black medical bag from the secret compartment behind the bookcase. He unlocked the door to the dungeon to load the bag with the things he would need. Ropes—the scratchier and more unpleasant against the skin, the better—a gag, blindfold, various whipping implements, various clamps, a couple of dildos but no vibrators this time.

He was angry with Caprice, with himself, with Faith, with Angelo, with the whole fucking world. Some of it was nobody’s fault, but for each troubled thought and motivation spiraling through his mind, Leo needed to assign a villain. He didn’t plan on letting Caprice have an orgasm tonight. All he wanted was for her to feel raw and used to appease him.

She was such a masochist that it would be fine with her. Whatever he wanted to do, she just wanted him to touch her. If it weren’t for her personality, she’d be the perfect woman. But Leo couldn’t trust her. He’d always be paranoid about her motivations. Relationships were all one big chess game to her, and he wasn’t going to be a pawn on her board.

Standing outside in the snow, bundled in a black coat, holding a bag filled with torture devices, he felt like Mr. Hyde going to set about the dirty business of feeding the darker impulse so the mild-mannered Jekyll could continue to go about life in peace during the day.

“You know it’s a bad idea.”

Leo jumped at the sound of his brother’s voice, and Angelo stepped around the corner he’d been lurking behind. He dropped his cigarette into the snow and it hissed as the frozen water put it out, sending a spiral of smoke up from the ground.

“Damnit, Ange. I know it’s a bad idea.” He didn’t pretend confusion. They knew each other well enough to dispense with the ritual of denial.