His Aunt, His Sanctuary

For a year, I was nothing but a ghost in the Vanderbilt penthouse, Seraphina's secret plaything, her devoted bodyguard.

I loved her with a silent, burning devotion, always there, always ready to serve.

Then, as casually as she' d summoned me to her bed, she dismissed me.

Her wedding to Julian Astor was in ten days, and our arrangement was abruptly over.

The chilling indifference in her eyes was a prelude to the hell that followed.

Suddenly, I was at Julian Astor's mercy – a petty, sadistic monster who reveled in torment.

He ordered me beaten, humiliated, even forced me to kneel on scorching metal grates until my knees were raw.

I endured a public flogging, my back shredded, while Seraphina, the woman I' d protected with my life, smiled at my tormentor.

When I was stabbed protecting Julian, he deliberately shoved me into the knife, and Seraphina merely watched, unconcerned.

My unique blood, inherited from the parents I scarcely remembered, was drained near to death to save the man who tortured me.

It was then I learned the truth: my parents weren't gone in an accident.

They were murdered by Seraphina' s father, who then "rescued" me, molding me into his perfect, disposable weapon.

Every ounce of hope, every flicker of warmth I'd held for Seraphina, froze into bitter ice.

I was broken, but no longer blind.

Now, the loyal dog is dead.

From the ashes of Vanderbilt' s cruelty, The Wraith is born, and I will tear down their empire, one bloody secret at a time.