They called him Vicious… I called him mine. Sebastian St. James was more mystery than human… His timid, feeble disposition contradicted the violent rumors that surrounded him. He wasn’t a murderer… but they were afraid of him, anyway. I was fascinated by him and the cautious way he hid his face. His hands trembled when somebody stared too long, and he was wary of speaking. Secrets burned beneath his skin, and it was my job to expose them all. Bit by bit, I was tasked with tearing him apart until there was nothing left but the truth. The funny thing about the truth? There’s always two versions, and it was Sebastian’s version that made me bleed. I no longer wanted to wreck him. I wanted to protect him. They called him Vicious… but it was me they should’ve been afraid of.