PROLOGUE

December 19th, 2011
The 5th Period

Florence.

O

ur last, true bastion of sense.

It wasn't always this way, as the Master had foretold many times. There was a day, in the early seasons of the First Period, when Medici essentially ruled the world of sensory perception with his callings over art and literature...or rather, sight, touch, and mind. Men, such as Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci and Donato di Niccolò di Betto Bardi, the few who preceded them and the many who followed, reveled in this royally encouraged way of bringing mind and heart to the forefront of the human experience. One would think that our ancestors - the so-called Mages of the East - would only have enhanced this experience, this movement toward human clarity and purity on a seemingly global scale, when they brought their medicines to the land of the West. One could further say, with some level or another of justification, that their arrival bearing artwork and craftsmen, scholars and literature from all over the expanse of Asia - Mongolia, China, Japan, the far distant islands - enhanced the Renaissance experience tenfold, saturating the then-known world with an abundance of perception and thought. Others may say, with some justification themselves, that the introduction of their medicines, but one was more prolonged than the other. One that was given different names such as, ‘Lilium’ and ‘Nymph de Agua’ set the human race on an unnatural course through the longevity of the "enlightened" and the sickness and depravity of the masses. A simple flower mixed with different drugs to create one powerful medicine that would change humanity forever.

The true Renaissance masters, they have a vision as to what has yet to happen for the Sixth period, a prophecy, for lack of a better word...

"There will come a being...a human being...that will act as a clean canvas. He or she will be as white and pristine as the clouds of the sky, and no less evolving and ever shifting, searching for its most brilliant, everlasting shape before it recedes and reforms, searching again. This being...they will arise with no history, no previous expanse to dictate who they are, and no previous vision to demonstrate who they will be. And like the grey lilies rising in the warm, sweet fields of spring, this being will rise full and strong from the cold desolation of the past to cure the masses - royal and impoverished alike - of their ignorance, their cerebral diseases...their personal maladies that cloud their eyes and prevent them from seeing the world around them for what it is...infinite. This Grey Lily shall be our guide - yours, mine, and everyone's - to the Sixth Period, to rebirth and renewal..."

-Chapter 1-

Stairs. I remember falling from them. At least I think I do. It seems like a far off dream. Maybe it wasn't me who was falling from those stairs... But if felt so real. That man too... who is he? That man screaming my name... was it my name he was screaming? My name. I wonder.

T

he girl grimaced at the pain she felt when the sunlight blinded her completely. It was as if she had lived in a dark cave for years and was finally able to see the bright light. She closed her eyes once more trying to avoid the stinging pain and little by little she welcomed the light into her eyes, blinking many times to get her eyes comfortable to her surroundings.

"Where am I?" She asked no one in particular. But it wasn't that exact question she was most afraid of; it was by far a different one. "Who am I?" She looked around now utterly panicking. Confusion, loneliness, restlessness and a mixture of so many feelings bombarded her being.

"Oh! You're awake dear. That's just great! The young master will be so happy to know that you're just fine." An aged nurse came to her room with a cheery smile on her face.

Young master? Her head was spinning. Each time she forced herself to remember, the headache just grew stronger. She rocked back and forth with her head buried in her arms. The nurse reacted alarmed and screamed for a doctor to come over.

"What's going on? Samantha, are you okay? Can-you-understand-what-I-am-saying?" The doctor enunciated. Of course she understood what he was saying; she was not deaf or impaired. But that one name caught her attention...

"My name... my name is Samantha?"

The doctor and the old nurse looked at each other with confusion plastered on their faces. The man in the white coat approached her and began to question her.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked as if the answer should be yes.

"N-no."

"Do you remember me?" The old lady asked expectantly, also with a hint of the answer ‘yes’ in her tone of voice. Inside of her she believed she had to know them, but she couldn't remember them from where or when. Her head began to spin once again. She placed a hand on her forehead and the nurse gave the doctor a worried look.

"Okay. One more question. Do you know who you are?"

The girl’s eyes shot up; she shivered at the fact that she did not know how to answer that. Or more likely she knew the answer but she didn't like it. As a last effort she tried to play her name over and over in her mind. But she could not remember—the name Samantha did not trigger anything at all. "Why can't I remember anything?" She whispered.

"Its okay, Samantha. Don't force yourself, child. Do you know what this is?" The doctor picked up a vase with flowers.

"It's a vase. And those are lilies..." Somehow that triggered something in her mind. She remembered that she loved lilies. But she restrained herself from telling this to the doctor for she wasn't even sure of what was real and what wasn't.

"Good. Seems you haven't lost all of your memory, I'll be back with you in just a moment." With that the doctor left with the nurse right behind him.

The girl known as Samantha placed her head back against the pillow and watched the ceiling. Her mind completely blank.



"It seems that Samantha has lost part of her memory."

A tall, elegant man stared out the window. The doctor gulped when he saw the man clench his fists. "Will she ever recover her memory?"


"She might be able to recover it in due time... however we have received reports of cases in which the patient never recovers it." The doctor stepped back a few inches just in case the tall elegant man turned into a dangerous one, he was known for his violent nature after all.

But the tall man did nothing of that sort instead he took a deep breath and turned to the doctor. "I guess it is for the best. That she doesn't remember anything, that is. So she's not able to remember anyone, including me?"

"I believe so. She's able to remember all the normal things, like eating, taking care of herself. It looks like the only part that is missing is her past and of the people she has met. I have come to believe she has ‘Retrograde amnesia’,” the Dr. mentioned, waiting for the tall man to say something.

“What does that even mean?”

The doctor placed his hands inside his coat. He cleared his throat and tried to mentally put it into simpler words. “Retrograde amnesia is the loss of pre-existing memories to conscious recollection. This goes way beyond the degree of forgetfulness.” He paused for a moment to see if the man had any questions. When he found nothing but silence he continued. “The person might be able to memorize new things that occur after the onset of amnesia, but is unable to recall some or all of their life or identity before the onset occurred. Maybe there's something painful she really wanted to forget about and she ended up blocking all of her past while she was unconscious. Or maybe there was something she unconsciously did not want to forget, and in trying not to, her entire memory was affected. The mind has always been a mystery to us. We'll just have to see how she progresses. If I may ask..." he stopped for a moment, but he mustered up the courage to ask him, "What happened to her?"

The man walked past him and opened the door. Without turning around, and with a chilling tone he answered, "That does not concern you. Do not mention anything to Samantha. I will take her home tomorrow."

"But we still need to…" Without letting the doctor finish his explanation the door shut closed. “Run some tests…” he mumbled to no one. As always, he was left with words in his mouth.

Before leaving the hospital, the man decided to visit Samantha. As he was about to turn the knob on her door, he stopped to think about how he would feel when she couldn't recognize him... or worse, if she did. His hand stopped midway and suddenly he turned to leave. He would wait. “Until tomorrow. I will wait, Sam.”

Time for her went by oh so slowly. As if it were playing games with her. No one had come to see her and she was feeling lonely and afraid. As far as she knew she had no life. She could remember faint things, odd things, such as flowers. "I like lilies,” she spoke out loud. But she hated fish. How could she not remember she hated fish? She stared at the plate of barely bitten salmon on her table. It was sad to only remember a few things. "What if I'm allergic to something? I might die." She laughed at that thought. Right now it wouldn't matter if she died, for it was as if she hadn't lived at all. Having no memories was like... "I’m empty."


She grabbed her stomach softly with her hand as she walked down the long hallway of the hospital. Her nerves registered a sharp pain, she did not need to see her abdomen in order to realize she had tender bruises. If only she could remember how she’d gotten them. It would explain a lot. But no one was giving her any answers...in fact it seemed like the doctors and the nurses were avoiding her. But why? She wondered. The hallway was empty. It was like she was the only living soul there. No person in sight. After walking and walking, all she could think about was the one thing that bothered her; who was the young master that the elder nurse mentioned? And why wasn't he there to see her? What was she to him? And why was he to be happy that she was okay? Was it because he had something to do with what had happened to her? Or did he save her? There were so many questions, yet no answers.


A loud commotion caught her attention when a man stormed out of a room not far from where her's was. The man with a torn expensive suit and bandage around his head looked angry. Samantha stood still and sighed in relief as the man brushed past her. A few inches away the man came to a halt. "Samantha?" the man asked, turning suddenly to face her.

Samantha's eyes opened wide. She slowly turned around to face the man who had called out her name. It wasn't like in the dream; it wasn't ‘that’ man's voice. Still, she was curious. “Do you know me?"
The man had a quizzical look on his face. "Know you? Of course I know you. Are you okay?"

Her mind felt like it was starting to work a thousand miles per hour. There was one theory she had, this man who actually knew her name was the man who actually saved her from God-knows-who, and that was why he had gotten injured too. Another theory was: he could be the young master that the old woman was talking about.

However he did not look young at all, more like in his mid-forties, so that would flunk her second theory. But then again, the old nurse was pretty old. Either way, this man happened to know her and it was the perfect opportunity to discover what exactly had happened to her and learn about herself in the process.

"If you know me, could you…could you be the master that the old nurse was actually talking about?"

"Master. Your master?" He asked with a cocked eyebrow while the young woman looked at him awaiting his answer.

"So you do know who I am... and you know what actually happened to me? I lost my memory, sir, and I have no idea of who I am."

He eyed her for a moment. "Hasn't anyone told you who you are? Or who do you belong to?"

"Belong?" she asked as if that word resounded in her head. ‘You belong to me,’ the voice resonating in her head was the same one she had heard in her dreams. But who was it?

His face lit up, and a smirk embedded his face, a malicious smirk that Samantha dismissed. "Of course, Sammy, did you forget about me? You belong to me. I am your master."

When he uttered those words her heart did not jump as it had when she’d first heard them spoken in her room. This time the way that man said it was kind of chilling. His eyes seemed ill-mannered and she was now more scared than interested. "You're my master?"
"Yes, dear. I own you. And what happened to you was really bad. Truly, I became saddened just thinking that you could have left this world."

Somehow it made her believe that the man was actually telling the truth. But her heart was screaming out something she just simply couldn't understand.
"What happened to me? Were you, sir, the one who saved me?" She asked shyly.

The man looked thoughtful for a while, but then he finally answered. "You had a terrible accident. Some powerful men were after you. It was lucky I was near that area and that I could actually save you in time. I'm glad it wasn't any worse."

Samantha looked at her savior. "I am now in your debt, sir. I owe you my life." She curtsied, something she felt that she had done before.

"Well then. I am delighted to hear you are okay." His eyes roved back and forth to the sides of the empty hallway. "Has anyone come to visit you?"

"Visit me? Other than the doctor and the nurses; no one else, sir. Was somebody important supposed to visit me?"

"No, no. Of course not. You don't have any family other than us. That is, my wife Mrs. Winchester and myself. You may call me Mr. Winchester as you always have." He spoke these words quickly, glancing back and forth at both ends of the hallway.

"Well I thank you Mr. Winchester, for your kindness."
The man nodded and continued, looking back into her eyes. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes sir. I'm feeling a bit better. I am looking forward to serving you, and maybe you can tell me a bit about who I am, or of what I do, so that maybe I can recover little by little my memories."

"I'll be more than glad to help you with that. After all, you belong to me. I will take good care of you, child. Now go get dressed and we will leave." Mr. Winchester said as he placed an arm around the girl’s lean shoulder. His cold touch sent shivers down her spine. There was something quite strange about him and she just didn't know what it was. But so far he was the only person giving her clear answers. There was no denying that he knew something, if not everything, about her. She did as she was told, and without saying a word she left with him. The feeling of being lonely was slowly starting to disappear, but the feeling of anxiety was building. Would she ever get her memory back?




The long line of trees, the air and riding in a big fancy car; there was something about it all. "Am I starting to remember?” While Samantha was lost in thought, she couldn't help but notice that Mr. Winchester kept gazing at her. His green eyes pierced through her skin. She derived her attention to the outside of her window. After all, she didn't want to think anything bad about the man who had saved her life.

She held on tightly to the lilies she saw in had in her room, someone must have left them there for her. However, she did not have the nerve to ask Mr. Winchester. The lilies were brighter than the usual lilies in the wild, they looked rare. Samantha’s expression turned into awe as a large gate opened to make way for the automobile. The house was big and the entrance itself was enormous. As she stepped out of the car her anxiety returned.

"Are you alright?" Mr. Winchester asked with a worried tone.

Samantha placed a hand to her chest. "Yes. I'm alright. Thank you."

The front French like doors opened and a tall graceful blond woman came out to greet them. She could not dissimulate her confused expression at seeing the fragile looking woman next to her beloved husband.

"Wha-“ She began, but was immediately cut off by her husband.

"My love, Samantha is fine. I bet you thought she was fairly injured, but I have bought her home at last." Saved, he thought. There was no chance in letting her ruin his precious plan.

‘Home at last?’ Mrs. Winchester was at lost for words. Her husband moved in to give her a hasty peck on the lips and guided her inside the house.

"Take the girl inside. Give her something to eat. Should she ask you anything, do not give her any answers," Mr. Winchester murmured to one of the servants. The servant nodded and obediently went to do what was ordered. Meanwhile, Mr. Winchester locked the door of the office room.

"What in the world are you thinking? Have you lost your mind?!" Mrs. Winchester let out everything she had been depriving herself from saying.

"Oh calm down woman. She was in the hospital and so was I. It was fate. She lost her memory, she doesn't know who she is and no idea of what is going on. He didn't go visit her either." A feeling of excitement rushed over him, it was all just too perfect. Mrs. Winchester, however, still callous to anything he had to say.

"And don't you think that's a bit odd? Do you know what HE will do to us if he finds out you bought her here?! Do you care so little about my life and yours. How about our son?! Is he not important to you Charles?" The exasperated woman cried out. She was about to pluck her hair out from her husband's insanity.

"Do not raise your voice at me. I did it because its time he pays for what he has done to me. It's because of him our company will not grow. He's a violent and vicious man and now I have his most precious treasure," he informed his wife pleased as if he had found the 8th wonder of the world.

"That Woman! Why is that woman so special? She always looked like a regular servant to me. A poor lowlife girl."

"She, my dear, is a genius with numbers. It is her who has helped him and his father create the empire that they have today," he explained nonchalantly.
Mrs. Winchester looked at him in disbelief, "The reason they have their little empire is because they kill anyone who gets in their way. And you were about to be killed too! You cannot go defying him."

"His old man is dead and now only he is left with his brother. I know I can make him move out-of-the-way. It’s time for a new empire to rise. Our empire. We will be the most powerful family in Versailles."

"You really will not rest until you get us all killed." She sighed at seeing she had no other choice but to agree with everything her husband said. "And how do you plan on hiding out this woman?"

"We will move for a while, to our château in England. Until everything calms down."
"England? And leave the business without anyone to manage it?"

"I already have someone. And besides you should feel happy, now you will get to spend my money while shopping in Europe," the man said with a sarcastic venomous tone. And with that he left her side while she just furrowed her brow. Who knew what kind of dismay her husband’s capricious antics would bring.



"How could you let her run away?" His voice was soft yet stern. It was that tone of voice that everyone feared. They knew that he did not need to yell; in fact no one had ever heard him raise his voice at anyone. The doctor's knees trembled; he stuttered his words and did not know how to even explain, for he did not know what was going on.

"Sir, we did as you ordered. We gave her a full wing of the hospital all to herself. The nurses tried to avoid talking to her. They restrained themselves only to check up on her. When one of them went she was already gone."

The man smoothly grabbed his gun from his coat and placed it on the doctors throat. The doctor shivered and squirmed, he did not want to die that way. "Ple- please... sir-"

"What are you doing? Leave him alone. She probably got her memory back and remembered that she hates you... couldn't that be a possibility Doc?" A young man came inside, elegant as well, yet shorter than the man holding the doctor's life in his hands.

The doctor gulped and nodded. "He-he's right. She could have recovered her memory. We do not know how the mind might work completely. Something or someone might have triggered it. That's certainly a possibility."

The man let go of him and put his gun away. His stare was cold as ice. "Her memory came back". His worse fear came true, she had left his side. He could try to find her, he knew he could. But maybe that's not what she wanted. He didn't want to see her beautiful innocent green eyes turn into hateful ones. But he did want to know if she was okay.

"If she did recover her memory and she ran away on her own, then so be it. Emir, just make sure she is okay and not wandering off in the streets. After all she had no place to go."

The short man nodded in acceptance to his brother’s request. But he on the other hand could not care less of what would happen to her. "I'll do what I can, brother."

The tall elegant man turned, his right hand found a small black ribbon in his red coat pocket. He swiftly tied the black ribbon making his long dark black hair into a pony tail. His cold gray eyes depicting emptiness and void. He had been selfish, scared and now he needed to move on. Continuing to hate the life he now had and the responsibility bestowed upon him since he was a child with his only escape now gone. He reached back into his pocket and he held a single lily on his right hand and a single thought in his mind, "I hope you can one day forgive me."

- Chapter 2 -

Stairs, that man and beautiful lilies. The same kind of lilies I saw in the hospital. The same three lilies I took with me. They have withered by now, but not my insatiable need to find out who I really am. However I often wonder if my life is something that I really should not know about. As far as I'm concerned, I am just a maid, with no family other than the Winchester family. They are a wealthy family in Versailles. Though I can't help but notice how unhappy they are. Was I happy before? I wonder. I still can't find that answer, but every time I think of that man whose face I cannot see in my dreams my heart skips a beat, as girlish as it may sound.

How can one love a faceless man?

D

ays had gone by pretty quickly in England, days became months, snow became water and the water nurtured the soil, blooming wonderful flowers all around. The Winchester summer home was as big as their home in Versailles. Everyday Samantha did her morning chores, cleaning each room with impeccable detail, placing all of Mr. Winchesters files in order. After she was done with her normal chores she was to attend the young master.

First thing, wake him up.

"It's a beautiful morning, young master Maxwell. You are not planning to stay in bed all day are you?" Her tone was always a kind and cheery one. Samantha opened up the curtains to shed light in the dark and gloomy room. Maxwell Winchester was an only son and sole heir of the Winchester Corporation. They had their riches from building boats to yachts for other powerful people. However they held another secret business which made them even more wealth than their own Corporation.

"Miss Sam... Just ten more minutes, please," a groggy voice pleaded from inside black satin bed sheets. She still couldn't get used to the fact that she was called 'Miss Samantha' by her young master, but he would not call her name without addressing her as Miss.

The other maids were really happy that Samantha was there, for they were not responsible of waking up the blond you any longer. It was nearly impossible for them to wake him up and after the utter failure they would always get scolded by the Mistress. But now, the responsibility belonged to Samantha and she made it look like a piece of cake. Maxwell was in his mid twenties almost the same age as dear Samantha, but he was childish and spoiled in many ways.

"If you don't wake up, I am not going to make the banana muffins you like so much..." Samantha persuaded him with a serious tone and her infamous -right hand on her hip- pose.

Maxwell sighed and knew that her banana muffins were the highlight of the day. Still she had no idea how she managed to remember the recipe or to make them. Just that one day she ate a banana and that triggered the recipe to come up in her mind. Even so she did not know where she learned it from. "It's better than nothing, I guess."

She thought to herself as she began picking up Maxwell's dirty clothes. His eyes began to follow her every move and Sam could feel it. This feeling reminded her of different pair of eyes, ones that also followed her every move... his fathers, . But the older man's eyes made her very uncomfortable, while Maxwell's eyes were more "innocent". Samantha turned to face him and smiled, "Yes, may I help you?"

The young man blushed when he realized he had been caught, he gave her a nervous smiled and said, "No, nothing."

"Well, I already prepared the bath for you. It will be good if you go in soon or it will get cold."

"Will do!" Maxwell said cheerfully. Everyone could see that he had changed from a depressed young man to a quite joyful one, especially when he was around Samantha. "Oh, Miss Samantha-"

"Yes, young master?"

"Can you meet me in the back garden in the evening right before the sun sets?" He asked her expectantly. His voice shacked from time to time when he spoke.

She curtsied, "Yes, of course. As soon as I finish helping your father with the books, I will be more than happy to accompany you."

"My father still has you working like a slave in those books? I am deeply sorry. That responsibility should be mine, but I am not any good with numbers. I am very ashamed to say so," he rubbed his neck and gave her an apologetic smile.

"Oh, please young master. Do not say such things. I am delighted to be of help. After all I am in your father’s debt. He saved my life," she explained whole heartedly and beamed the most sincere smile.

Maxwell's smile faded. He very well knew the truth – his father hadn't really saved her and she had never worked for them. But, he had grown so fond of her that he had become so selfish and decided to play along with his father. In doing so he avoided the questions that Samantha made about herself and her past, trying his best to avoid lying more than he needed to. At times he felt sorry for the poor girl, but even though he only knew her for a few months, he had grown to appreciate her presence more than anyone else’s.

Samantha pulled back her long wavy brown hair with a white hair clip. Her uniform suffocated her. Strange she thought since she had supposedly worked for them 'for years’; the thought of being used to such a uniform came to mind. She quickly unbuttoned one of the buttons that went up to her neck. After all, Mistress wasn't around and she was strict one when it came to the uniform. Mrs. Winchester however, only scolded her. It was always the same story with ordering her to button up her blouse up to her neck. "I wonder why she dislikes me so much. Could I have done something to upset her? I cannot for the life of me remember."

"What news do you have on that woman?" Emir questioned the two men in black suits.

"Sir Emir, we have reports from agents in Nottingham, England. She is with the Winchester family, working as their maid.”

"She is a servant?" He burst out in laughter. "Well, well isn't that nice? She prefers to be their maid than to be with us. A smart one that girl is, I tell ya." He continued to laugh in between words.

The other man in a black suit continued with the report, "We also have information that she has yet to recover her memory."

Emir's expression turned into a serious one in no time. He combed his black hair with his hand. Emir was far different from his brother in many ways, from his straight black hair to his blue eyes and he was also shorter than his brother. There was also the fact that he secretly hated Samantha. Emir reached into his pocket and took out a tin. He stared at it for a moment in silent contemplation, deridingly he took out a cigarette, he lit it and before placing it in his mouth he smiled. "I will give the report to my brother myself."

One of the man gulped and apologized, "I am truly sorry Sir Emir, but I was ordered directly by the young Master Nathaniel to personally give him the report."

"Are you forgetting who is the older one in this family?" Emir asked menacingly. His eyes pleading to be defied. He hated that his brother had more power over him, that his father left Nathaniel as a successor and not him. After all he was the older one, but her very well knew who his father's favorite was.

"I understand Sir Emir-"

"It seems you do not understand... that I am too a Vanderwood. And as such you also have to obey me..."Before he could finish Emir had buried the lit up cigarette in one of the agent’s hands. The agent did his best to control the pain. While the other one kept on looking forward trying to avoid Emir's eyes. "I will take the report to my brother. You will both continue the surveillance for that broad." He tapped on the hurting agents shoulder and smirked, "Keep the cigarette."




Numbers came quite easily for our dear Samantha. It was like a second language for her. Even if she did not know what those numbers meant or what in reality they personified, she continued to do her work. What for Mr. Winchester and his accountants seemed impossible for Samantha it was something she could solve with her hands tied. The accountants were mesmerized by her ability to find irregularities in the accounting books and the fact that she was able to save millions with few numbers moved here and there. But soon however the accountants stopped showing up and all who were left in that room was her with those books and Mr. Winchester.

She sometimes dreaded those hours. His gaze would never leave her, she tried to tell herself that maybe he could not trust her and that's why he never left her side. But she was soon to realize that her theory was all wrong.

"You know Samantha... you are very beautiful," the man cooed in her ear, Sam was so concentrated that she nearly jumped at the sound of his voice so near. "Your beautiful shiny hair, your skin which looks so soft and delicate... just like a porcelain doll." His voice was raspy and she could feel his breathing so close to her ear. He placed his right hand on Samantha's head, stroking her hair softly. The young woman reacted quickly by nearly jumping off her seat.

"Mr. Winchester?" She had a puzzled look on her face. That is exactly what she always tried to dismiss. But the old man did not desist instead he seemed more aroused by her reaction.

"Oh, I know you might not remember. But we used to have so much fun when Mrs. Winchester was out shopping," he cackled.

'That can't be true!' Her thoughts screamed out. Her green eyes opened wide in disbelief, it was true she could not remember anything, but she knew in her heart she could have never done such a thing. Not to her mistress. She would never be able to betray someone. It felt like it wasn't her. "Mr. Winchester... I'm sorry. But I don't think I-"

He already had her pinned to the wall before he could let her finish. His lips almost touching hers, she quickly moved her face away from his and tears began to stream down her face. 'Why does it have to be like this?'

His hand tried to roam up her thigh, she did her best to move away from him but his grip was strong. "Oh, come on Samantha. Let me show you how much you enjoyed it."

"NO!" She let out a scream. He immediately let her go when he heard a precipitated knock on his office door. "Sir, is everything okay?" Came a concerned voice of a maid.

"Yes! Everything is fine. Did I not tell you not to bother me when I am in my office?" The other maid left without saying anything else. Mr. Winchester pressed his hand against Samantha's mouth; her thoughts were the only ones able to scream. 'No, please. God make him stop.' She could feel the warm tears washing down like an endless waterfall.

"Do not scream again, or you will be sorry. Is this the thanks I get for saving your life?"

Samantha still could not believe what was happening. All of a sudden her life had taken a 180 degree change for the worse. What was she to do?

"I will not force you," Samantha's eyes widened, did he really mean that? Or was he just toying with her? And as if he was reading her mind, he answered, "This doesn't mean I will stop persisting. I will make you free willingly give yourself to me. It couldn't be that you're a virgin..." He laughed at the thought of the twenty year old woman being a virgin, her expression went blank and his voice sounded farther and farther away, faint but it was there. "So you are. Well then we will do something about that. Until you decide to give yourself to me... you will go to sleep without dinner."

A sudden flashback hit her like a train.

"Is it because the young master has been with many woman?" Samantha found herself asking to a man in front of her, his face unable to be seen. Only his long black locks swaying with soft wind. He had seen that man before in her dreams, in those stairs.

But his voice echoed in her soul. "No, it's because you're an innocent virgin." He said it with a small chuckle and a caring tone. He placed a hand in her cheek stroking it gently but she did not move. "I don't ever want you to lose your innocence. Not until you're ready and until you are truly in love with that person that deserves you." Her heart felt warm that time, with those words, with his hand.

Who was that man?

When her flashback was over she found herself alone in the office, her back still pinned to the wall. She hadn't noticed when Mr. Winchester had left, everything seemed like bad dream. She slid down the wall resting her head over her knees. She finally remembered something, those words that that man had spoken to her meant something. If only she knew who he was exactly, if only she had proof that it had been real. Even so it must have been important for her to remember, she would keep her innocence intact until she could actually remember who she loved... or if she had ever loved at all.




"Oh dear brother..." The short man called out in a sing song voice.

"Emir," his older brother acknowledged coldly.

"Guess what I have for you," Emir teased while pulling a chair to sit next to his younger brother.

"What?"

"Come on. Guess!" He insisted.

"I don't have time for your games Emir. What do you have for me?"

The shorter man narrowed his blue eyes at him and commented sarcastically, "You know even though you're my younger brother. Why does it feel that I am the one who owes respect to you?"

"Because, you never got your act together, it was always I the one who had to look after the business after you decided to go partying and wasting your money on drugs and women," Nathan put it bluntly. He brushed a wavy strand of his black hair. His eyes were grey and they already gave of a cold look, but with his attitude made it worse.

"I changed my ways." Emir crossed his arms nonchalantly. Nathan proceeded to ignore his brother's complaints. "Okay, okay. I'll tell you. We have information on Samantha."

That definitely bought back his attention and it made his older brother smirk with delight to know that he did have a weak point. Samantha. "What’s the report?"

"She's with the Winchester family. On her own free will. She is working for them as a servant and book keeper. We paid Winchester's accountants to tell us what they knew about Winchester's sudden growth with his Corporation. They were so mad that they were fire that they actually sang like birds for mere crumbs. Seems he's trying to become more powerful than us, he is earning millions all thanks to Samantha..."

Nathaniel broke the pen he was holding in half. But it wasn't the fact that the Winchester's were becoming more powerful, it was the fact that Samantha had decided to be with them willingly. “Does she have her memory back?”

Emir avoided his question. "She's a traitor Nathan. Sam-"

"I asked you, does she have her memory back?" Nathan did not want to hear his brother's opinions; he only needed to know if she was okay. If she had recovered her memory, he had a small glimpse of hope. Maybe something happened in order for her to cross paths with the Winchester's. He knew Charles Winchester had it in for him and his family, after all.

Emir cocked an eyebrow, "She's lucid according to the reports. She seems to have recovered her memory. Like I said she's with them willingly, which is why I imagine they decided to take her to England."

"England. I see…” He stared out his window. Birds chirped and the sky was clear. A very beautiful day some would say, except for him.

"Don't tell me you are going to go after her. After all she's just a servant." His words were sharply spoken.

Nathan could very well go after her. Mr. Winchester would probably not fight over her. She had not earned her freedom just yet. His father had made sure of that. Yet, he would make no effort to follow her, if she wanted to be with them he would let it be. And that is exactly what Emir intended his lie to do. He had wanted to get rid of Samantha since they were children. He felt his brother was taken away from him by the wretched servant. His father also made a big deal about her ability which diminished him even more. It was enough he was always being compared to his younger brother, but to a servant girl was beyond his boiling point.

"If that is what she chose. I will not go against it. Now onto business, I need the reports on the Winchester's family business."

"The old man clearly stated that he would always protect the Winchester's assets. They provide us good 'funding' you know," Emir reminded him of the money that they paid in order for them to keep their mouth shut and let their business strive in Versailles.

"Our father is dead. I am not going to continue in his footsteps. The Winchester family is making dirty money... and I need to know how," Nathaniel said firmly.

Emir gave him a look of disbelief and decided to push him further. "Are you sure this isn't about Samantha?"

"Do not mention her name anymore in my presence," he ordered.

Emir lifted up his hands in defense and hid a small grin. "Fine, I apologize. I will find out about the Winchester's dirty laundry. Were you responsible to scare out the Picotti family out of Versailles? They too provided us a lot of money if you had not noticed." He sighed when he saw his brother was in no mood to answer his questions or hear what he had to say.

"I am going to clean out this city from scumbag families like those," he looked at him straight in the eyes. For a while he had suspected his brother to be involved in bad businesses. He had no proof, however. As much as he cared for his brother, he would not let him bring down the name he was building for the family. He had gained Queen Victoria’s trust and was planning to maintain it. He would not let his father’s venom poison whatever was left of his clean conscious.

"Tsk. tsk. The old man is probably turning over on his grave disappointed on his heir." Emir taunted him one last time and left.

Nathan was left wondering of what his older brother had said, if he was actually doing it because of Samantha. He shook those thoughts out of his head, he no longer would think of Samantha. ”I will forget you, Samantha. So forget me.”

Samantha had washed her face. Her eyes were still red from all the crying. The sudden orange rays luminescent of the sun advised her that it was about to set. She gasped, "I have to meet young master Winchester out in the garden." Wiping her face as fast as she could manage, she looked back at the nearby vintage mirror and fixed her hair or at least tried to.

Maxwell smiled as his muse approached the gate to the breathtaking garden. The girl did her best to catch her breath, to which Maxwell chuckled lightly. "You didn't need to run. I wasn't going anywhere."

Finally she had made it to where a smiling, gallant Maxwell sat, she curtsied and tried to do the same but she could barely crack a smile. The sun had already gone down and the moon presented its wonderful glow upon the two.

He stared at her intently, even though there wasn't enough light to see every emotion in her darling face he could feel that there was something wrong. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Ye-yes. I just have a slight headache," she lied. But there was no way he could tell Maxwell what kind of father he had.

"We should call the doctor. Maybe, you are coming down with something." He stated alarmed, while placing his hand on her forehead. She gave one step back without thinking, the fact that he just extended his hand out of nowhere made her reflex. "I- I apologize Miss Samantha. I meant no disrespect." Maxwell blushed since he too did it without thinking.

"No, I am sorry. I am not thinking clearly," she explained, a bit embarrassed about her sudden reaction.

He couldn't help but laugh a little. She looked up at him confused; he was handsome indeed, tall and looked very sophisticated. His hazel eyes did not dim with the night, his blond hair glistened with the moonlight. There was no doubt he was born in high society. The silence was becoming awkward; Samantha tried her best to avoid looking at him. She was not in the best of moods and talking was not in her mind.

"I called you here," Maxwell started, "because there is something I've been meaning to tell you..."

- Chapter 3 -

"I called you here," Maxwell began, "because there is something I wanted to confess... to you." Samantha still avoided his strong gaze, he noticed this, yet decided to continue. "Miss Samantha. I-I... I am in love with you."

"No, it cannot be true. I am just hearing things."

Samantha found herself looking back into passionate hazel eyes, dumbfounded still by his confession.

"Little by little I became captivated by you, unlike with anyone else. Your kindness, your distinct beauty and just how special you have become in my life. I am completely and madly in love with you." He explained with the utmost passion. But without getting any closer to her, he did not want to disrespect her or make her feel uncomfortable.

Samantha began to panic, just the thought of the punishment she would endure if anyone were to find out. Society, she had learned in those months, did not take kindly people with her status. A servant, a mere object, is what she was. The punishment for even contemplating on relating with her masters could lead to her death. She shook those thoughts out of her head and began to walk away. "No, no, no. This isn't right. You cannot love me. I am just a maid!"

"Who are we to tell the heart who to love?" He questioned her while he followed and faced her. "Who am I to tell my heart not to love such a beautiful angel? You have bewitched me Miss Samantha."

"Oh, dear God! Do not say that,” she panicked. Shifting her gaze back and forth, afraid that anyone would dare listen to their conversation. She replied, “If anyone should hear you they will surely say I have planned it all!"

"I was merely stating it as a metaphor. I did not mean any blasphemy by it. It is just that seeing you every day and being with you every day has made me change the way I feel about life. I feel liberated by your mere presence. You have been the only one to make me feel like this life is worth living for." He dared to grab her hands in his, but Samantha quickly resisted. Maxwell didn't try anymore but frowned as a thought crept through his mind. "Your heart, does it belong to someone else?" His tone showed how scared he was of hearing an answer.

Samantha could only think of the man in her dreams, the man who screamed her name as she’s falling from those stairs. The man who makes her heart skip a beat when she is faintly reminded of him. She could not tell this to Maxwell, however, when she was not even sure if it was just pure fantasy.

"Young master Winchester. I must apologize, but I cannot accept your feelings," she began to speak.

Maxwell's lips happened to quiver, "It is someone else..." His words were barely audible. His eyes turned to look another way, if this was the end of everything he did not want to stare into her eyes while she said it.

"No. No, not at all," she denied quickly.

His eyes perked right up. Had he heard correctly? There was no one else in her heart. "Is this true?"

"Yes, it is true. I'm just having a hard time with my memory. I still don't know who I am, or who I was... or whichever. I just... I'm just so confused at this moment," she let it out, finally what her heart screamed all along. Her eyes became crystal, tears forewarning to escape and her voice cracked as she spoke. "I don't think I will be able to love anyone, until I remember at least a few pieces of my past."

Maxwell looked at her with sympathy, he had no idea she was feeling so much sorrow. He wished there was some way he could relieve her pain. He knew by telling the truth he would probably lose her and it would make things far worse for her. Besides he had no idea of what kind of past she had, all he knew was that she used to work for the Vanderwood's. He did not know who her family was or if she had any at all. All he knew was that he loved her, this woman with an unknown past, but with a vivid present.

"Please don't cry, I cannot bear to see you unhappy. Even if you cannot love me at this moment. I will wait. I will wait forever if I have to."

"I beg you, young master. Please just forget about this madness. We cannot be together. Besides Lady Lisbeth is very interested in you, she's beautiful and has class. She is better suited-"

He was not going to hear it. "Please, don't. I have no interest in her whatsoever." While, Lady Lisbeth, had everything their family deemed worthy. In Maxwell’s eyes she was nothing but a spoiled rich girl with too much time in her hands.

Samantha bit her lower lip, it seemed that there was no way she would be able to convince the man otherwise. She always thought he appreciated her but as one of the help. There was no doubt in her mind that he had been kind to her. She was left to wonder if he had always felt this way even before her injury. Yet, she didn't dare to ask, it would just add more fuel to the burning fire.

"And please quit calling me young master. If at least that, you would make me the happiest man. Would you just call me by my name?" His eyes pleaded.

Everything that was happening just did not seem real at all and it just kept on adding to her already mountain high insecurities. She was after all just a servant. "I cannot call you by your first name, young master. I could be punished if anyone heard me."

"Then we shall keep it a secret!" He winked. "It will be our own little secret." The idea of a secret made it seem playful yet dangerous. "You will call me by my name when we are alone," he said cheerfully.

"Alone?" Samantha kept on thinking of all the wrong meanings of the word 'alone'.

"Yes, like we are now. You would really make me happy, Miss Samantha."

The young woman smiled, she could not say no. Not after already breaking his heart the way she had.
"Alright then, but only if you also call me by first name as well. Maxwell.”

Maxwell had a wide grin on his face, like he had found a way to bring world peace. "Thank you Miss-- I mean Samantha."

Sam smiled back, she was glad to make him happy if only for a little while. Ever since she had gotten to England she noticed that he was always depressed and lifeless. Really, she could not blame him, especially with the family he had. His father only cared about making money and his mother only cared about spending it. She could tell he had felt lonely for a while which is why she loved it when he smiled. It made her stay in the Winchester household worthwhile.



Emir was breathless and panting, satisfied from his carnal needs. By his side a young woman with a wide smile, pleased at having made her bed partner achieve pure ecstasy.

"So is it true, is it true that the stupid wench is living with the Winchesta's?" The woman had a very strong accent and sometimes would not say words adequately.

"My, my how gossip flies in this forsaken city. How the bloody hell did you find out?" Emir questioned her with a quirked brow.

"I have ma ways," she said flirtatiously while tracing a pretend line with her finger along his broad chest.

He rolled his eyes and shoved her hand away.

"Why are you always so cold to me? Every time after we-"

The girl didn't even finish when she felt the back of his hand hit her across her face. She looked at him with a hurt expression, it wasn't anything new. Neither was the warning, "Learn your place Vanessa. You will always be just a servant, a worthless servant who will never amount to nothing."

Vanessa tried to fight back her tears. But one made a grand escape. Emir reached out and wiped it gently, Vanessa could feel herself melting by his touch. Why couldn't he be like that always? She thought. And why did she always put up with his violent ways? Then she thought about Samantha and her anger began to rise.

"I hate her. Why is she the lucky one? Why did she more privileged than us? She was just a servant too. Why did the young master prefer her! Why didn't she sleep, eat and dress like us?"

She wasn't expecting any real answer. But she got it anyway. "Because, be it as it may, she still had more class than you. She learned to speak three different languages, was a genius with numbers... while you... well frankly love; you don't even know how to speak properly in your mother tongue. You're just like a street dog. But even so, you hate her and so do I. At least that we have that in common."

Though he had humiliated her; she still smiled at his last statement, they actually had something in common. She had loved him since she was a child, he had always been rough with her. Vanessa had been his first woman ever, at the age of 16, he was two years her senior. Her smile did not last long, however when Emir spoke again, "Now it’s time for you to leave. Oh and tell Roxy to come up will you."

Vanessa changed to her servant clothing, she nodded and curtsied. She couldn't believe that Emir was still insisting on Roxy.

When she finally got to the kitchen she had a malicious smirk on her face. The eldest maid looked at her narrowed eyed, "What are you up to now, Vanessa?" She had taken care of her since she was a baby, but never would she have thought she would grow and become such a vile and hateful young woman.

"I came here to tell Roxanne that sir Emir wants her to go up to his room..." Another wide smirk appeared as she looked at the shocked girl.

"Eh? Me? Mama D..." Roxy said short of breath while she looked at the eldest maid with fearful eyes.

"Tell sir Emir that she is busy. While you are up there fooling around, she is here helping me with supper," she retorted challengingly.

"I, ain't no messenger. She can go up there and tell him herself."

"I... I don't want to be alone with him," she whispered, tears falling from her brown eyes. The old maid, also known as Mama D, smiled at her sympathetically and held her hands tight. Trying to give her strength to endure whatever it was she would go through.

"If he does something to you... scream, child. I will personally go to young master Nathaniel."

Roxy nodded. Her heart a bit more calm at that point. But Vanessa did not want to stop her venomous taunting. "You ain't have to worry Roxy. I'm sure he'll treat you like a princess after he beats you around a bit. Too bad lil’ Samantha ain't here to protect you no more... and just so you know old bag young master Nathaniel isn't here either," she cackled.

"Why do you hate Samantha so much? She was always good to you," Roxanne dared to say. Her brown eyes were defiant but Vanessa only laughed, she could only think on how pitiful she was. She turned to leave and continued to laugh on her way out. "What am I going to do? She is right. Samantha isn't here anymore. He's finally gonna’ do it isn't he?" She buried her face on the old woman's shoulder and began to sob uncontrollably.

Mama D closed her eyes in order for her not to cry. She didn't want to give her less hope. "It's okay, child. Let me go up and tell him you are indisposed-"

"No! He'll surely do something cruel to you. I have to go to him... even if it means..." she could not finish saying those words. Her tears were warm and she couldn't help but think of how twisted life was. Samantha had always defended her from Emir, every time he tried to get her alone she was always there to get her out of his sight. She had even stood up to him more than once and Nathan always interjected when Emir wanted to do something back. But, Nathan was never home and there was no news on Samantha, at least to their knowledge.

Roxy's knees trembled as she went up the burgundy carpeted stairs. Her tears still streaming down without any idea of where so many were coming from. She walked slowly trying to buy time, but buy time for what? There was no way she could get away this time. He had warned her before, that now that Samantha wasn't there to protect her, she would be his.

Finally she arrived to his room. The lions cave. She wiped her tears quickly and lightly knocked. His prominent footsteps as he made his way to the door told her that he was in a hurry to consumer her whole. The door made a creaking sound and the time felt to go in slow motion as she heard the doorknob being turned.

"Well, hello love. I've been waiting for you. Come in," he motioned his hand for her to go inside.

"What can I help you --" She yelped when she felt his strong hold on her. He forcefully pressed his lips against hers. Once again tears began to stream down her face, there was no way she would escape him this time.

"It is time to play Roxy," he said in a sing-song voice.

Meanwhile Vanessa stood outside his door listening to the girl's muffled screams and sobs. She could only smile, oh how much did she enjoy other's pain. If only it would be Samantha instead of Roxy, her life would be worth living. But having Samantha's best friend in that situation wasn't bad at all.

Meanwhile Mama D could only pray for Nathaniel to come home early to save the poor girl. But she also could not help the tears from falling this time. “Why is Amir so cruel?”

Samantha was going through her own nightmare. She was very afraid of the time when she was to help her master with the books. She was from being alone with him the past few days because her mistress decided to stay home. However it did not save her from going to sleep without dinner and she barely ate at noon from all the work he was having her do.

"Have you gotten tired of going to sleep without eating?” He jested. “It’s fairly simple really. All you have to do is give yourself to me."

"I beg you sir. Please desist from this. I will never give myself to you." Her voice did not quiver as she replied. She would not let her take advantage of her, whether he had saved her life or not it did not give him the right to do so.
Mr. Winchester's face reddened with anger by her answer. "What arrogance you have. You should feel honored to have a man such as myself to even consider you as a woman."

She felt compelled to fight back but she knew it would only make things worse. "I meant no disrespect sir."

"You are the one who taunts me with your walk and talk. You don't act like a servant," he spoke with lust.

She shook her head for lack of words and stared at him in confusion; she never meant to do such things.

"I need to have you Samantha. Only then will I be satisfied," he got closer to her.

"Sir, I will certainly scream if you come any closer," she warned him as she backed away.

"Go ahead. Scream. I'm sure my wife would like to know how you throw yourself at me," his laugh so sinister that it sent chills down her spine.

"But that's not true!" She yelled out in disbelief.


"I dare you to try it..." he said pressing himself on the girl.”I'm getting sick of waiting for you to come around..." and with that he let his hand roam under her garments.

"HELP!" She screamed bloody murder. She didn't care if her mistress would not believe her. She just wanted to escape that nightmare. Suddenly, a miracle, a knock echoed inside the office. Someone was outside, had they heard?

"You stupid girl!" He spat and crushed her back on the wall making a few books fall from the shelves, "You will pay for this insolence. If you say anything else I promise you, you will never know about your past, your family or anything that has to do with you."

The girl stared at him scared, he finally mentioned her family. Did it mean that she really had one after all?

"Father, open this door! What is going on?" Maxwell furiously knocked on the door; he swore he had heard Samantha screaming.

He tidied himself up and opened the door. "What is the meaning of this interruption?"

"I heard a scream. I wanted to see if everything was okay." He tried to poke his head inside to see if Samantha was there. His eyes finally met with hers.

"Samantha, are you okay?" He pushed his father aside and went straight to her. Her back pressed against the books and honey colored eyes screamed terror, it was a sign that she was not alright.

"I- I'm fine. I just fell from the steps. I was trying to get one of the books that was up there." Samantha lied as she pointed to one of the higher shelves.

"Father, how could you let her do that?" He questioned him with a disappointing tone.

"She's a servant. Samantha is to do what we tell her to. She's just a bit of a klutz, aren't you Samantha?"

Samantha nodded, "If you don't mind sir I have to go help out with supper."

"Go, go before you try to break something else," Mr. Winchester said while rolling his eyes and waving his hand in a shooing way. Samantha did not hesitate to leave, without even taking one look at Maxwell she ran out.

"Why can't you be a bit kinder to her? If it weren't for her your business would be nothing!"

Mr. Winchester did not take kindly to his words and decided to put his son in his place. His backhand met Maxwell’s white cheek, making a loud ‘smack’ sound. "Watch your tone boy. I am still your father. And she is nothing but my servant. If it weren't for her old master, we wouldn't need her. Our business would be thriving if he wasn't so caught up in being all clean and righteous."

"I don't know what you are up to father. But if Samantha recovers her memory, I will help her do whatever it is she decides to do." Maxwell was determined and his father could see it, which only angered him more.

"How dare you defy me? And don't talk like my business is nothing, because you are the heir!" He declared.

"You won't even tell me what the other businesses are about. Always secret meetings, money wiring from different places, you want me to take care of things, yet tell me nothing. I am not a child anymore. I know the Yacht Corporation is not the one giving us all our riches."

His father smiled and finally noticed his son was not a little boy anymore. "One day you will know. And you will carry on my empire."

"What is our other business father? Why does Nathaniel Vanderwood want you out of Versailles?" He questioned him, his beautiful eyes narrowed.

"Who said he wants us out of Versailles? He needs powerful families like us..."

"I heard you talking with mother last time," he confessed to the eavesdropping without guilt.

Mr. Winchester cleared his throat. "Nathaniel Vanderwood is a flake. He is nothing without his father and he has gone insane."

"He exiled the Picotti family from Versailles. Rumors are that they were smuggling powerful drugs into the city," his words were leading, trying to find out if his father had anything to do with it.

"The Picotti family was always a mafia family. Senior Vanderwood was aware of it, but he did not say anything because they offered him a lot of money to keep his mouth shut. How do we know if the Vanderwood's just didn't want more competition? They could be involved in the trafficking too, you know?" He walked to his desk and opened a wooden box; he took out a Cuban cigar and lit it. His son was never this interested in his business before and it was definitely not time to let him know.

"You think Nathaniel would be involved in such a vulgar business. His Corporation alone makes more money than all the mafia families put together."

His father savored the smoke, he let it out and the smoke covered his displease look at what his son had said. It was true after all, but he could not stand that fact. Another frantic knock was heard, they both stared at each other, the older man still with his cigar and the young one still unsatisfied by the unclear answers.

"Who is it?" Mr. Winchester called out.
"It's me boss. There's been a problem." The man said almost in a whisper, but audible to the people inside.

The man could think about a few things that would bring him problems. He let out one more puff of his savory cigar before he put it out. "Come inside. You," he turned to his son, "this is a private matter. Leave us be."

"But father am I not the heir after all, should I not hear this?" He asked in a taunting manner.

"You will know, one day. Until I think you are ready to handle such responsibilities. Now go check on your mother," he ordered.

Maxwell knew he would not be able to stay. Even if his father called him the heir to the business, he would never let him stay when he had meetings. “So much for being an heir”, he thought. That was something he envied from Nathaniel. They knew each other from childhood, they had studied under the same school, he was able to witness how Sir Vanderwood, Nathaniel’s father was preparing him for his future business. He let himself out still pondering on what exactly his father was doing in those private meeting.

Once he made sure his son was out he motioned the other man to sit down.

"What is exactly happening? I was expecting the shipment a month ago, yet Perry is telling me it has yet to arrive." Mr. Winchester blood was boiling; the incompetence of his employees was nerve wrecking enough to blow a gasket.

The man gulped, wishing he was anywhere but there. How did he get stuck delivering the bad news? "They said they did not want to leave the shipment with Perry. They don't trust anyone but you. Tsukasa says he will not deliver it unless you are present."

He smacked his hand on his desk, leaving it red in contrast to his pale skin. "That fool! What does he take me for?"

"I am truly sorry sir. But that is what he said."

"Do you know how many millions I will lose if I don't get that shipment!?" He combed his hair with his right hand a habit he had to calm himself down.

"I guess this means we have to go back to Versailles. That's exactly what I did not want to do, at least not now."



Samantha did not care if she went to sleep without supper. The only thing she cared about was going to sleep and dreaming. It was what she would wait for all day. To finally enter that dreamland and once again see the man her heart cannot forget.

Impressum

Texte: All rights reserved. © Meli J Nightly 2011 Cover art was done through photoshop. It is not meant for sale of distribution. It is only to enhance the readers experience.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 16.05.2011

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Widmung:
This book is thanks to God, for giving me an escape and a beautiful light called writing when all I felt was nothing but darkness. I would also like to thank Patrick Sean Lee who took the time to revise chapter one and encourage me to continue. I would also like to thank Tom Reese for taking the time with my story and helping me when I wanted to give up on it. Thank you both from the bottom of my heart.