"He deserves more than a simple prison sentence," I growled, pacing the length of my study while Marcus Wilkerson watched me with an infuriatingly calm expression. "A dungeon is too good for what they did to her."
The image of Isabella's tears still haunted me - the raw pain in her eyes when she learned her mother had abandoned her only to create a new, perfect family elsewhere. My hand tightened around the crystal tumbler until I feared it might shatter.
"Your Grace," Marcus said, his tone measured, "I understand your desire for vengeance, but we must work within the law. My investigation into Randall's activities in the red-light district has uncovered enough evidence to imprison him. Lady Beatrix and Clara Beaumont will face justice as well."
I slammed the tumbler down, amber liquid sloshing over the rim. "Justice? You call that justice? They tortured her for years. They scarred her—both her face and her soul. They deserve to suffer as she suffered."
