by Mason, V. F.
I bite my lip, swallowing the scream threatening to tear my throat, and instead I stay silent, lifting my chin high.
Even in this situation, he won’t know the satisfaction of my surrender.
It’s not like I have anything to lose anyway.
Is he the one who sat by the piano when the guys tortured me? Was he the one then who killed my parents that night, wanting to protect the twins from me in his twisted mind?
His instinct to shield them away from whoever hurt them transformed him from a protector to a monster it seems, who eliminates even the slightest danger from his twins.
Loyalty to Eudard is so absolute he can never allow me to bring him pain, and since in his mind I did, I’m a threat that he has to destroy.
There is a thin line between protection and control, but this person is too traumatized to see it, as he is the product of his upbringing.
Or should I say… Eudard’s upbringing.
I’ll be damned if I give him what he seeks in this night of terror he designed around us.
He deserves to die for the crimes he has committed!
But how can I demand justice if this person lives inside the man I love?
“You can end this anytime, Cassandra,” he says so casually, yet his hold on me tightens when he speaks my name with hate so evident I’m surprised I’m not dead yet. “Just submit.”
I barely hold back the laughter wanting to erupt, because he truly believes I’m that naïve.
Most people might not know his nature hiding behind the mask of male perfection and dream-come-true looks, but I do.
It’s nothing but rotten, and whoever comes in contact with it gets coated in it too, so much there is never an escape from the dirt he smears on people.
He is like a disease that has no mercy for the body, swallowing all the cells at once and infecting the blood to the point of the person vanishing from this planet.
All while languishing in agony that has no relief or escape, where hope dies bit by bit every single day while the world practically mocks you in believing in good things.
Nothing else is satisfactory enough for the likes of him.
I discovered monsters existed in this world a long time ago, so rarely anything surprises me.
But he took the word monster and twisted it to the point of me not even knowing how to label him for the hideous things he is capable of.
If others are monsters lurking in the night for fresh flesh to feed on, he is the devil who burns everything in his wake before he forever separates people from their sanity when he traps them in his hell, where the only way out is death.
A devil who doesn’t even burn in the church, but instead he makes it his hunting ground.
“Go to hell,” I reply hoarsely, coughing on the blood in my mouth and shifting to the side, twisting in his hold, ready to run away from him at any moment.
He might be the devil, unafraid of the church, but I’m the sinner who will use whatever way necessary if it means crawling out of hell.
Even if the doors of heaven are forever locked to me.
Chuckling, he fists my hair harder and drags me to the statue of Jesus that shines brightly under the moonlight streaming through the stained glass, cascading down in the magical yet sinister way, where despite the holy place, demons still have a place to live.
I plaster my palms on the marble, but my strength is nothing against his, and my skin continues to slide on the floor as he moves us closer and closer to the steps leading to the altar, smearing my blood all over it.
Bumping my knees against it, I stifle back a groan. Before I can catch a breath, I’m flung aside, causing me to land on my side, my skin already bruised from his harsh treatment earlier.
Although he considers it nothing but a gentle careless.
“Come on, darling, apologize,” he orders, his deep, husky voice washing over me like cement, freezing my every emotion. “With Jesus as your witness.” He laughs again, the cold of it sinking into me with each chuckle.
He takes out his cigarette and lights it up, inhaling deeply, and I hear him groan in pleasure.
Apologize?
“I have nothing to apologize for.” And even if I did, I wouldn’t have been sorry enough to do it.
“Cassandra.” There is a warning, barely audible, but since I’m so attuned to him, I catch it in his voice. It’s able to transform fire into ice, but I ignore it. “Apologize for the kiss.”
The minute the words slip past his lips, the memory of the kiss in the cemetery flashes in my mind, bringing back the chaos and emotions so profound I wonder how we didn’t burn with it.
Today, a sinner kissed a saint, and oddly enough, no thunder or lightning came from the sky. Maybe that was the day God and the devil took a break and didn’t notice how two mere mortals committed one of the greatest sins.
But now I understand that deep down my body reacted to Eudard all along, and that’s why those emotions confused me.
Eudard, he still stays the only man who has never hurt me.
For a fraction of a second, I allow myself to bask in the beautiful memory of how the softest of lips touched mine, how he pressed me against his chest, and how for the first time in what seemed like forever, the outside world ceased to exist for me.
Even the nightmares that have permanent residence in my brain.
However, the smell of rain and masculine scent vanish from my mind when I feel him coming closer to me. The smoke from his cigarette envelops us and my eyes snap open. “Stubbornness will become your undoing.”
No, my stubbornness allowed me to survive in the darkness.
His obsession will be my undoing.
Before I can even blink though, he wraps his leather belt loosely around my throat, as if hanging the most expensive necklace on me, and leans forward, lightly caressing the skin of my neck. Goose bumps of disgust rush through me. “Apologize, Cassandra,” he orders again, and this time I shake my head, almost disappointed I can’t see the fury on his face from my refusal.
In this situation, that’s my only pleasure—for I denied the greatest of monsters his satisfaction.
The leather slowly tightens on me, but then I hear another voice—the voice that has the ability to erase the greatest of nightmares when he wants to—and the movement around my throat stops.
The voice that hurt me too, but at least his voice gives me hope of escaping this hell.
He came on time, this time.
“No!” he shouts, probably wanting to stop the madman, and for the first time in my life I have no clue how it will end.
There are no rules in this twisted game of theirs.
But there is only one winner who will claim the sinner.
Madman
Sometimes, we must hurt those we love in order to protect them.
Sometimes, a lie is the only solution to the problem.
Sometimes, covering up a sin is actually a salvation and the only right thing a person can do, instead of talking about the crime.
While I always wanted to kidnap her to see the true me hiding behind the mask of deceit, I never planned to hurt her or leave bruises on her porcelain skin.
But she came to the church, to the only sanctuary my twin knew, but also the place where true monsters hid.
The ones that arranged everyone like puppets, playing with emotions as they saw fit.
The founding five kids committed a crime a long time ago, but what would Cassandra have said if she knew what truly happened back then?
That her nightmare is just the tip of the iceberg of the horrendous thing that she became a part of, only because her parents crossed someone they shouldn’t?
Or the fact that she doesn’t even know what was going on around her most of her life?
But more importantly, what would she say if she knew that right in this moment the person that organized it all, is watching, because thousands of invisible cameras are scattered in this place?
Just like they were ten years ago, so
he could replay over and over again the things done to a young, innocent girl who became collateral damage in a revenge she knew nothing about.
Right now, my cruelty is the only thing saving her life, and because of that, she will hate me.
So be it.
I make no apologies for how I choose to protect the woman who is mine.
Not after I failed to protect the only other person who belonged to me.
My twin. Part of my heart and soul.
Like I said, sometimes a lie is the only solution to the problem, and I don’t seek a cure.
I’m the devil, and she will burn in the fire of my creation.
The Maestro
Dropping onto the chair in front of my flat-screen TV, I prop my legs on the nearby table while adding volume to the surveillance footage from the cameras I installed at the church ages ago.
“Magnificent,” I whisper, lifting my glass to the screen when he almost chokes her with his belt, creating fear in her gaze and reminding me of what a beautiful creature she used to be all those years ago.
Laughter reverberates through the walls of the space when I think about the future.
Once upon a time, Eudard Campbell refused my welcome to the dark side, so I took his soulmate away, his twin. And the parents of his beloved girl.
This time though?
This time around, I’ll take his queen.
Vincere semper.
I always win.
Checkmate.
Madman’s Cure, the conclusion to this duet, releases on October 17th.
Pre-order here.
Turn the page to read an excerpt from Callum’s Hell.
Callum’s Hell Excerpt
Giselle
Fisting the skirt of my red ballroom dress, I run toward the garden, my bare feet barely making a sound in the perfectly cut grass that scratches against my skin.
My brown locks cascade down my spine and blow back from the wind as the veil coronet made of orchids and roses entwined together slides a little, tugging on my hair.
A mark that forever stains me.
I hear him call out behind me, a deep and husky voice that haunts me in my dreams and catches me in my nightmares.
Stifling the groan of pain, I speed up, ignoring the protesting screams from every bone in my body.
Stopping means losing, and losing means dying; those are the rules in his twisted game we’ve been playing for so long I’ve lost count of time.
I pass by various bushes, trees, and lush flowers with scents that surround and slip into my nose, reminding me that my love for them became my ultimate downfall.
It’s a shame something so beautiful is smeared in dirt that no one will be able to clean.
I gaze ahead and finally see the gates, wide open and waiting for me just to fly through them to my freedom. Like the gates of Hades that hide the monster living in the underworld.
Those who stay here burn in the fire of his creation.
My breathing heaves. Drawing on all my self-control, I continue to run, even when he shouts louder behind me, “Giselle.” There is a note lacing his voice that I don’t recognize, yet it sends a shiver down my spine, reminding me that no one goes against his will and lives.
But any freedom, even in death, is better than the prison he has created on earth for me.
A slight smile curves my lips when I reach the concrete, my feet slapping against it while the heat in it burns my skin, but I don’t care.
Not when I’m so close to escaping this hell.
The monster lives in the castle of his own creation after all; he won’t be able to follow me.
My hand is extended, ready to touch the gate, when a gunshot echoes in the night sending the birds flying up in chaos, squawking loudly as they are snapped from their calm.
The air hitches inside my throat, and I freeze on the spot, my raspy breath filling the night. A sharp pain travels from my lower back through my entire system as dizziness overtakes me.
I fall on my knees, groaning in agony while the gates in the distance become blurrier and blurrier, taking me farther and farther away from my escape.
“My back,” I murmur, barely finding the strength to utter those words. I reach behind me and then look at my hand, noticing blood coating it. “He shot me in the back.” The minute the words slip past my lips, I hear his hurried footsteps and he drops beside me, his hand fisting my hair and bringing me closer to him, until his cheek is resting against mine.
“What have you done, Giselle?”
I stifle a whimper and hold back the tears that yearn to slide down my cheeks and wash away the hurt he always inflicts.
Hades caught his Persephone once again.
And just like in the myth, he will lock her away from the world and make her live permanently in his hell.
Or so I think.
Slowly, all my strength leaves me as I slip to the side, right into his arms. I exhale carefully, the pain so strong I’m afraid to even breathe. But in all this craziness, a smile settles on my face, because the nightmare is finally over.
No one won.
No one lost.
In this twisted myth of his creation, no one got what they wanted, and that’s probably the most tragic story of all.
Click here for Callum’s Hell.
Acknowledgments
First, I want to thank God and my family for allowing me to write and make this dream possible. The support means so much to me, and I understand that sometimes it drives you crazy, especially when I try to meet my deadlines and seem unavailable to you. But I love you guys and appreciate everything you do for me.
The very first scene of this book popped in my head almost a year ago and I wrote it down, but I didn’t know where the story would lead. I put it aside and finally came back to it after I finished Callum’s story. I’m so happy to finally share their story with you. I hope you enjoyed reading it.
Huge thank you to Hot Tree Editing team for helping me with my editing process. Especially Becky, Donna, Peggy, Kayla and Mandy. Plus beta readers and final eyes, who gave me valuable feedback and made sure I covered any plot holes I had.
Thank you to Sommer Stein, Wander Aguiar and Chris for the fabulous cover.
Heather Roberts, thank you for being with me during this release every step of the way.
L.Woods PR thank you for hosting my cover reveal and release blitz.
Thank you Candi Kane for hosting my blog tour.
Thank you to my reader group, ladies you are amazing!
Thank you to all the bloggers for spreading the word about Madman’s Method and leaving reviews.
And finally to all the readers who took a chance on this journey of love between Madman and Cassandra. Thank you to each one of you.
Also by V. F. Mason
Dark Romance
Sociopath’s Obsession
Sociopath’s Revenge
Psychopath’s Prey
Lachlan’s Protégé
Micaden’s Madness
Callum’s Hell
Mafia Romance
Pakhan’s Rose
Pakhan’s Salvation
Sovietnik’s Fury
Brigadier’s Game
Kaznachei’s Pain
Coming Soon
Madman’s Cure
Contact
Website: http://vfmason.com
Reader group : http://bit.ly/2iXZd0l