Although the castle was large and the walls thick, the emptiness, the silence of his beautiful home was killing him knowing his Yasmina wasn't under his roof.

He thought he had won. He'd used her, humiliated her, trapped her, turned her life upside down. He was feeling regret long before her brother appeared. He'd chased her out of pride, out of his determination to posses her to beat her brother. To use her, to take her trust and use them as weapons against her.

Pain and regret washed over his face. The guilt and agony slithering through him like a venomous snake.

Cristiano hadn't truly realized his mistakes until he watched her body language change. The wall she kept between them appeared to grow and stretch with every second passing as he banished her from his life with his empty, cruel words.

His heart fell to his feet remembering her pale face, her sweet lovely face harden as her eyes narrowed. He saw her soul there, what he'd done to her. At that very moment, he was hit by how much he really loved her. She had such strange power. She made him say things, want things, do things he shouldn't. . . Made him feel things he didn't know he could feel.

He mistakingly accused an innocent man, tortured and ruined an innocent woman. And all for what? His lying selfish sister who was trying to save her bastard lover, his best friend, his closest advisor–a spineless man who lied to his face and acted loyal when all this time he was the true enemy.

The traitor. The liar.

According to his guards Mateo left the castle without a word to anyone as a thief in the night the morning of Zayn's arrival. It explained his absence. Not long after after Zayn departure, Cristiano was contacted of Sofia's discharge from the recuperation facility she was currently receiving help.

Who signed the discharge papers?

No other than Mateo himself. He used Zayn as a pawn, took advantage of his trust, urged Cristiano to avenge Sofia all the while orchestrating a careful plan to extract his sister unsuspectingly.

No wonder Mateo was disagreeable from the very start of Jasmine's addition to his plans. It only delayed his plans to run away with his sister. Cristiano never suspected, never questioned his puzzling behavior, assuming his infuriation was due to the work it required to bring Jasmine and her friend to the castle.

"You're not honestly thinking of using his sister? Why involve her? All we need is Zayn." Mateo argued.

"I want her before I want Zayn." Cristiano stated with determination. "There is no room for argument. If you can not handle the situation. I will appoint someone else."

"Her involvement will prolong Sofia's justice. This is about her not some girl!" Mateo continued, turning red in the face from his rising irritation. "What is it about her that's so special? So she denied you that night. This is not the way. Her presence will complicate things."

"I will eventually lure Zayn here by using her. We must not rush things, Mateo. We will avenge Sofia. But all in good time. When the time is right, I will make Zayn pay and his sister will be left in the same condition as Sofia. All our work will not be in vain."

The pain he felt was slowly killing him alive knowing all along the true intentions he brought her to the castle. The excuses he made to himself as to why he had to have her be a main presence in his plans. It was true. He could have approached Zayn and sorted out the truth but he chose the way that would ensure she presence in his life. He wanted her from the moment he set his eyes on her.

It wasn't really about her brother more than his selfishness.

He wanted her more than he wanted justice. And he went about it all wrong. His excuses to use her, pursue her was just that, excuses. Deep down he loved her. He never believed in love at first sight. But now he did. His soul met its other half that night of her sisters wedding. Cristiano was a fool to deny those growing feelings and lied to himself that she was the sole reason Zayn would pay.

But he woke up too late.

He damned himself. Damned his sister. Damned Mateo and his disloyalty.

However, the biggest traitor and liar was himself.

He simmered with self-directed fury, shaken that he'd denied himself such a heavenly creature for the sake of his pride and duty to his family. He closed his eyes against the emotions battling inside him, stabbing him, consuming him, overwhelming him until we wanted to scream.

Half of him was furious.

The other half of him was hurt so badly an empty hole in chest where his heart beat was torn out and sliced in two. Before he met her, he'd been only half a man, existing but not living. She'd made him whole with her innocence, strength, love. . . He'd never thought a woman would want him for himself. He'd never thought he'd fall in love, but he had, with a heart and soul he never knew existed.

Until Jasmine, he'd never carried around hopes and dreams of his future. But she'd changed him. She turned him from a detached, grim, selfish, lonely man into someone with hope for the future filled with happiness. And now all his newly found hopes and dreams were gone. Vanished.

How he wished he never involved her. He should have kept her sheltered from his life–from him. He silently cursed himself and his foolish pride. He should have trusted his gut, his growing feelings. He should have taken pains to shelter her from the darkness of himself. She was the only pure thing he had ever known–a saint, innocent as the daylight and now she's seen the monstrous side of him.

What a coward he was.

The mistakes he'd committed should have been buried in the past and never repeated.

He reached for the photo he kept in his desk of her, his heart twisted with longing. He had never seen anything, or anyone, more beautiful.

She deserved a man that matched her inner beauty. He didn't deserve her. She didn't deserve a monster such as him. But he still wanted her more than anything else. Somehow this woman whom he had met only a few months before was already very important to him. She mattered more than his own life.

He loved her. The only woman he had ever loved. It was the first time he'd cared for anyone. The first time anyone meant anything to him and he destroyed his future. A future he lit with a match burning him from the inside out.

Every word.

Every caress.

Every action.

Everything he did was because he loved her.

He forced her to his castle. He forced her to marry him. All because he was too much of a coward to risk losing her. And now, by his own doing, he lost her.

Nothing he could say or do would ease the wrongs. Nothing he could say would take back his heartless words. When he saw the pain in her eyes, he saw the truth. The memory of Jamsine walking out of his home and his life brought a hard knot to his throat. But he already knew enough to about her to understand that she would not be swayed by anyone. Not anymore.

Every moment in her absence was torture because she was everything he needed, and he could not have. Ever.

For it was too late.

He had done too much damage.

He couldn't never atone for his sins. He could never be whole ever again. Nothing he could say or do would take back all he did.

"My God, what have I done?" He asks, looking up at the ceiling as if an answer would descend from the heavens.

Only one thing was left for him to do. Set her free from him, from his mistakes and his sins, his presence, no matter how much it hurt–no matter how much he wanted to go to her and grovel at her feet for her forgiveness.

"I wish I was what you needed in a man." He whispered.

He would spend the rest of his days regretting what he'd done to her.

Cristiano looked at he plain gold wedding band on his finger, haunted by the memory of the perfect wife he never deserved. A woman he could never have again. A woman who would despise him forever.

"Save yourself, Yasmina. For a man who can deserve you. Who can love you. . ." He added softly with a hint of sadness, staring intently at her picture. "I am so sorry and I will be sorrier until the day I die."

You are better off without me.

He places the picture against his heart, closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair unaware of the tears seeping from the sides of his closed eyelids.

*******

Remembering the way he kissed her sweetly, made love to her body, she closed her eyes and wanted to die. That night she surrendered to him plays over in her mind.

She'd spent hours under the hot shower, scrubbing her body, shampooing her hair endlessly as if it would rid her of him, of his scent and the imprinted memory of his hands, mouth, and body on her skin. But the visions were the only thing she couldn't erase as they replayed in her mind. The humiliation of being kicked to the side like some whore. Cutting her out of his life like she wasn't worth a thing.

When Zayn showed up the very same night she made it back to London that morning, she sprung into his arms and cried on his shoulder for what felt like hours. They were tears of a painful heartbreak and joy for her brother–that he was still in one piece. To her shock, she learned he was forced to the castle by Cristiano's threat. He retold her what happened between Cristiano and himself. How Sofia lied he was the father and retelling her the same story he told Cristiano.

The truth of everything began to soak into her, like rain.

"Mateo and Sofia?" She asked stupidly, trying to wrap her head around the great lengths of their deception.

Zayn nodded. "The bastard was deceived by his own flesh and blood."

They were protecting themselves from Cristiano's wrath and allowed him to direct it entirely on Zayn and her. In the end, she was the ultimate sacrifice for their sins. Although she didn't know Sofia on a personal level, Jasmine instantly despised her. She was the cause of ruining her life.

"I'm so sorry, Jasmine." Zayn said in earnest. "It's all my fault. I wish I never met that wretched woman. He had no right to use you, take you against your will. . .Did he hurt you?"

He pulled away from her, cupping her cheeks tenderly.

"What did he do?" Zayn demanded, searching her eyes for answers.

Zayn's eyes narrowed. Whatever he saw on her face must have given him cause for concern.

"I'm going to kill the son of a bitch!"

Zayn rips out of her reach and begins storming across the living room and making a straight line to the door of the penthouse.

"Zayn!"

Jasmine's heart leaped out of her chest as she ran after him and pulled at his arm.

"Please! He didn't do anything. Look at me. I'm fine, just shook up from the whole ordeal! Please! Leave it in the past. I don't ever want to hear about him or the rest of them. Please." She begged. "Let it go."

After seeing her breakdown in a heap of tears and stagger until her legs could no longer hold her up, Zayn reluctantly agreed. All he could do was cradle her against his chest, rocking her back and forth like she were a delicate baby. She had worked so hard to keep Zayn away from Cristiano, she wasn't about to send him back to the lion's den, even if it cost her another lie.

Jasmine sat in the living room days later, still overwhelmed, still unable to face the real world, huddled into a chair in pajamas and a thick robe.

The truth was hard to swallow.

Although the room was cozy and warm enough she felt frozen to the bone. Slumping against the couch, her eyes wide and dazed. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around herself in a futile attempt to stop the trembling shaking her body apart.

He sacrificed her for his lying, selfish sister.

A slow, trembling breath escaped her. The shock never dissipated leaving her mercifully numb. For hours she remained there suspended in her misery, oblivious to the hot trickling of tears down her ashen cheeks. A pain beyond anything she had ever known darkened her spirit.

It was the worst feeling to have a broken heart, it's like all the butterflies just died.

He never felt for her as she did him, or he would never have been able to turn on her and let her go. There was nothing left but his cruel words tearing at her heart.

What was she hoping to gain knowing what kind of man he was from the very beginning? Had she thought he would wake up and grow a conscious? Was she so desperate for love that she believed in the impossible?

The hardest part was falling in love with his potential knowing damn well she saw the warning signs from the very beginning. She ignored all the red flags and it was the same reason it all ended.

She never knew a person could feel so much pain from the one you loved causing it. She wasn't scared to love him, what scared her the most was the disappointment of not being loved in return. It hurt to realize she wasn't as important to him as she thought. It was stupid of her to think she was enough to break through his beliefs. But she couldn't change him. His head was two sizes too small. He managed to strip her of her clothes and pride making her feel less than herself just as he intended.

His passion for revenge blinded him. His misdirected loyalties cost him. He was the one who was ultimately deceived by his own flesh and blood. Karma really does work in mysterious ways.

It was all finally over. The truth was put at rest. But it wasn't just the ending of a nightmare it was start of an entirely new one for her.

In her heart it was real. She'd given Cristiano all her faith and trust and in the end she ended up with nothing in return but a broken heart and ravaged spirit. She let her guard down and loved him, giving him the power to do so.

In the end it destroyed her.

Love was supposed to feel wholesome, warm and nourishing. But it was blind like the old saying goes. It makes people blind to their faults. To their ugliness.

She envied her parents and her sister. They had an endless love only people could dream about. Was her subconscious so desperate to believe Cristiano was that man and he could give her what she dreamed of?

Jasmine turned to the box of tissues by her side and snatched one, wiping her nose and throwing it on the floor carelessly. Her arms hugged her knees, rocking gently on the sofa. Sammy sweeps in dressed in a robe, freshly showered. He was humming to himself when he caught sight of her broken form.

He stood before her, hands on his waist, tapping his slippered foot. "Listen girl, you need to stop moping and acting like its the end of the world! Real men make your panties wet, not your eyes. I understand you fell in love with that asshole but this needs to stop! You'll find a man you deserve, a real man what will worship the ground you walk on. I don't get why you're stuck on him–"

Sammy issuing advice for the last several days hadn't been more comforting than scrubbing her skin clean from Cristiano's leftover lovemaking until her skin turned raw. However, she omitted one fine detail that was the true undoing of her composure. She gave him her body.

Over and over again she went over that night. The best and worst night of her life.

One tear rolled from her eyes, followed by a second and a third.

"He used me Sammy! I let him in and he took what he wanted and kicked me to the curb!" She wailed, an ocean of salty tears drowning her cheeks. "I-I gave myself to him, I let him have his way with me. . ." Admitting her sick secret.

"Y-you don't know how s-sick and humiliating it feels to be treated like a whore. He fücked me and discarded me like he promised! He took my virginity!" She yelled. "He did exactly what he planned all along and I was stupid enough to believe he loved me back and everything was forgiven and forgotten!"

"Oh my. . ." Sammy stiffened, his hands falling lifelessly to his sides. "You two did the nasty? And now you decide to tell me? What's wrong wit you, girl?!?"

Jasmine couldn't look him the eyes, too ashamed.

"Look, I know how your family have a strong outlook on holding off from sexual contact until you're married and all, but I didn't realize you, you. . ." He frowned. "Well, that explains a lot."

Jasmine snatched another tissue angrily and dabbed her face. "We were–are married remember? He forced me but it was legitimate. He proclaimed his love for me the night before he kicked us out of his home. He asked me to marry him again for real this time. He said he loved me and wanted to start a family and all that bull. I was overwhelmed with happiness. He worked on my emotions and caught me in a weak moment. He came to me that same night and I was stupid enough to initiate the lovemaking. I gave him permission to ruin me!"

"You mean he said and showed you all the right things your heart wanted to hear." Sammy clarifies, scooting beside her curving a comforting arm around her shoulders. "What a sick manipulative fücker." He mutters. "He really is a Gaston, sometimes I hate being right all the time."

He wasn't the sick one. It was her for being attracted to such a sick monster.

"I was blind and overlooked his history. It's degrading that he used me like all the girls he's slept with. It makes me sick to my stomach. I wasn't any different and I can't get over it. I doubt I ever will."

Sammy scoffs and waves a free hand dismissively in the air. "It's like I told your sister once. You are the type of woman a man needs, not the type of woman that needs a man. Don't ever compare yourself to "spreaders". They're like doorknobs, where every muthafucker gets a turn. . . You're more like a casino. Only one lucky motherfücker gets to hit the jackpot."

"He took the jackpot and ran." She replied miserably.

"It's not the end of the world, girlfriend! So what you lost your virginity to the wrong guy. Don't let a man make you feel like shit! Don't let him rip your self-esteem to shreds. Nobody's worth it. So stop letting him control so much of your mind, feelings and emotions. Move the hell on. Steve Harvey once said, 'You don't lose a good man. You lose a man who's not good for you.'" Sammy quotes, his worried eyes scanning her slimming figure. "Love is like a drug–falling in love has the same neurological effect as getting high on cocaine. Your were overwhelmed, on a high. But don't make the mistake of judging other men in the same light of Russo."

"I never ever want to fall in love again." She replied, bitterly.

"Don't give up on love. Make space in your heart for someone who has the capacity to love you just as much as you love them. You'll find the right guy." Giving her shoulder a tender pat. "And when you do, he'll be sweeping you off your feet and worshipping the ground you walk on. He's out there somewhere and when you find your true love, you'll forget all about Gaston and the shit he put you through. You should be grateful that he showed you what kind of man you don't need."