I didn't sleep a wink last night. My mind wouldn't shut up and my heart wouldn't stop aching. I couldn't get Patrick's face out of my head. His sad eyes as he realized that I saw him as nothing but a murderer.

And if you can't handle that. Then I guess you won't be spending the night in my bed again.

It wasn't just that, I guess. He actually wanted me to spend more nights in his bed? When I had spent the night, I thought it was a onetime thing. I mean, I knew that it would probably happen again, but that would be after dinner and a few drinks. I wasn't slipping again.

My eyes flicked opened when something burned between my legs. What the hell was wrong with me? I was calling him a murderer no more than eleven hours ago and now I was turned on just thinking about him. God, I needed therapy.

With that thought in my head, I found the energy to get out of bed and into the shower. I wished I didn't look in the mirror. The bags under my eyes had doubled and darkened and my hair was a mattered mess. Thank god I was alone.

After my shower, I put a touch of makeup on to cover my flaws. I was refusing to leave the house today, so I dressed into some leggings and the off the shoulder loose shirt that I was going to wear yesterday. My stomach was craving food and my body begging for the sweet taste of coffee.

I had almost forgotten about our guests until I reached the void and spied the security guards. One by the front door, one by the back, two out the front. You would think we were keeping someone prisoner here. I froze at the thought. I really hope we weren't, anyway.

My heart jumped into my throat when I found Patrick amongst them all. His was the only face that my eyes found, his eyes looking straight at me. Crap, he already had me.

"Morning," I greeted sounding half asleep.

"Morning," the boys chuckled, like there was an inside joke.

"How did you sleep?" Patrick asked, half in his mug, his eyes digging into me like punishment for not spending the night with him.

"Just fine," I glared at him, pouring myself a cup of coffee, "Yourself?"

"Great. My bed's really comfortable."

My mouth dropped. I was lucky that I didn't drop the kettle. The guys chuckled, clearly remembering the morning when I claimed that my bed was comfortable as well. Snickering, I pretended like it didn't affect me in anyway.

"Mmm, I agree. Sleeping alone and naked is just the best."

The sound of six grown men choking was like music to my ears. I couldn't hide my smile and the sight of their red cheeks. God, sometimes being a woman was so easy.

"Wouldn't you agree, Garrick?" I questioned, tilting my head and battering my eyelids.

"I really couldn't say," he choked, wiping the coffee from his chin.

There were a few more snickers at Garrick's expense before we fell into silence. I followed the look from Patrick's eyes to Garrick, trying to figure out what he was trying to say. Clearing his throat, Garrick placed his mug down.

"Come on you four," Garrick groaned, "There's something I need to show you."

And with that, they left leaving Patrick and I alone. I sighed, seeing this coming. I guess we had to speak about our fight some time.

"Eliza, I just wanted to apologise for my actions last night. I was not myself," He started.

I turned around, prepared to fight, "I know, Antonio warned me before I went up there."

He frowned, "And you still went even though you knew I would be furious. That's not bravery, Eliza, that's idiocy."

"It's, wanting to get to know my husband when he's murderous," I corrected, narrowing my eyes at him as he did the same.

"I think, I'm feeling that way again," he growled, stalking towards me.

I walked back, freezing when I hit the bench. My heart raced at the sight of his lust-filled eyes as he breathed heavily.

"Now, listen to me," he growled, his hot breath hitting my neck and sending shocks through my body, "Next time someone warns you about me, listen to them."

"And what if their wrong?" I questioned, trying to keep his strong eye-connect.

"I very much doubt it," he husked, finally backing away and taking the kettle with him.

Pouring more coffee into his mug, he sighed, "You were right last night. I'm not a good person, Eliza. And if it wasn't for this arranged marriage I would never have let you anywhere near me."

I was frozen at his confession, not even being able to comment.

"I know, this was not what you wanted. You wanted a marriage based on love and affection," he stated, reading me like a book, "but, I think it's for the best, for your sake, that our marriage isn't based on that."

I frowned, feeling my heart ache. What the hell was he saying?

"I don't understand," I questioned, "What could a marriage be based on if not that?"

He shrugged, "respect, understanding. Perhaps lovers one day –."

"Full of yourself, much," I scoffed.

He smiled, chucking under his breath.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a familiar voice echoed through from the void.

"I want to see my daughter."

Pappa?

"Right this way, Mr Uccello."

Oh no. I couldn't see him. I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with him. Giving Patrick a panicked look, he nodded as if he was about to do something. But it was too late. Pappa was already in.

"Lizzy!" he cried, once he spied me in the kitchen.

Swallowing, I did my daughterly duty and walked up to him welcoming his arms around me.

"Lizzy, I've been so worried," he claimed, pulling back to look at me properly, "I haven't been able to get your words out of my head. What's the matter?"

My heart started to pound as my lips sealed shut. I tried to feel the comfort that use to warm me when I looked into his soft eyes. But Patrick's words, continued to flow through my head. Your father is just like me.

He frowned, "Lizzy, what's the matter? Talk to me."

Sebastian Drago killed your mother because your father was ruining his plans.

"I know," I told him, feeling the tears in my eyes.

His brows drew together, "What do you mean? What do you know?"

I sniffed, but no tears dropped, "I know about Sebastian Drago, the real reason Mamma died and why I had to marry Patrick."

"What?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

And then his eyes landed on Patrick's. I had never seen them so damn cold.

"You. You did this," he growled, moving around me and pointing a finger at Patrick.

"Pappa, don't," I begged, pulling on his arms but he shook me off.

"Why are you pinning my daughter against me?" Pappa growled.

"I didn't do anything. I told her the truth, something you should have done yourself," Patrick snarled, pushing off the bench to challenge my father.

"She didn't need to know!"

Patrick let out a bitter chuckle, causing my blood to go cold.

"She is the whole reason!" Patrick yelled, "how can you marry her off to a complete stranger and not tell her the reason."

Pappa was silent.

"Your nothing but a coward, Nicholas."

In a blink of an eye, Pappa lunged for Patrick, holding him by the collar.

"Say that again," Pappa growled.

"Pappa, let go of him!" I yelled, tugging at his arms.

"Your just like your father. Soulless and dark," Pappa snarled, shaking with fury.

"No, I'm many things but I'm not my father," Patrick scrolled, "I would never sell my child to save my own neck."

"Enough!" I shouted, getting in between them, "your just as bad as each other!"

Pappa finally let go of him, backing away.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked both of them.

"He insulted me!" Patrick shouted.

"He disrespected me!" Pappa yelled.

"Enough!" I roared, rubbing my temple.

Note to self: if I ever have two sons, I'm adopting both of them out.

"Pappa, I think you should leave," I told him, not looking him in the eye.

I couldn't handle his hurt.

"Okay," he answered, causing my eyes to flick up to see if he was lying, "but you call me tonight, do you understand? We need to talk."

I nodded, agreeing only for his comfort. I allowed him to kiss my cheek before disappearing out of the dining room. It was only then that I realized we had an audience. But that wasn't going to stop me.

"What the hell?" I yelled at Patrick, pointing a finger, "he's my father."

"He's lied to you," he argued.

"He probably did that to protect me."

He shook his head, "no, you don't get it both ways."

"Yes, I do!"

"How -!"

"He's the only parent I have left!"

We froze. Patrick's face softened as realisation kicked in. His eyes sadden feeling a sense of pity towards me. One I couldn't stand. So I bolted before anyone could stop me.