Lucius Vinemont ruined my life. It was a long time ago. It feels like yesterday. I haven't let it go, and I won't. Not until he's dead. Lucius is the bogeyman, the shadow under my bed, the nightmare that wakes me in my sleep. The funny part is that I used to think I loved him, in shades of girlish, foolish love. But then he killed the only thing I had left, and Lucius twisted the knife. It's what he does. And now, it's what I do. Once Lucius is gone, I'll be able to breathe again, to live a life that isn't haunted. That's what I tell myself. But the closer I get to ending the nightmare, the more he gets under my skin. The more he makes me feel things I vowed to never feel, especially not for a man like him. Never for a monster like him. As it turns out, Lucius isn't the only monster from my past, he's just the one I can't shake. When you shoot a man through the heart, he's supposed to die. But Lucius Vinemont isn't a man. He's a monster that has haunted my nightmares for the past five years.