Original subtitles

Previously on You:

This woman kidnapped me, then she tried to carve up my arm and kill Jonathan.

- Phoebe, will you marry me? I need you. - Me or my money? Sort your problems out.

My father is Tom Lockwood, he's really one of the more powerful men on the planet.

I have a past too, Jonathan, with another name.

All I want is to never be her again.

Find someone to frame for it. Otherwise you're going down for all of it.

She's the Eat The Rich Killer.

He's the kind of man who knows more than he lets on.

- One last thing. Tom Lockwood. - Kate's father.

We're gonna have so much fun killing him.

Things I've learned about Kate on our first real date:

She's unpretentious, just wanted to go for a walk in the city.

Doesn't take herself too seriously.

Really listens.

And has almost a psychic ability to call...

I can hear you thinking. Spit it out.

I'm just admiring the view.

Oh, God, you are a cliché.

- Do normal girls fall for that? - You tell me, are you seduced?

Yes, of course, because I'm the height of normalcy.

Jonathan, darling, is this it?

- Is this what? - Our future neighborhood.

Where we start our normal family.

Ah.

After our normal wedding and live our normal lives.

- Should we put an offer in on a house? - I don't know.

It's a tough commute from your thriving, independent gallery.

Yes.

Uh, although, cycling distance from the university.

- And my rare bookstore. - Yes. Yes.

Which, against all expectations, is also thriving.

This merely supports our joint charity for...

Mm.

- For? - For orphans.

Orphans. Mm-hm.

Uh, we teach them to read.

And swim.

And make art.

- Lucky fucking orphans. - I've always thought so.

Underneath the jokes, the armor, she's a romantic.

It's bittersweet that this feels like our first real date

and our last night on earth.

Tomorrow, Kate's father comes to town.

Tom Lockwood, the devil.

We're gonna have so much fun killing him.

No.

No, I am done.

I framed an innocent woman for what you did.

Did you also frame her for all of your Stateside oopsies, Joe?

You are the only reason to blame

for all of the leverage I have over you.

Look.

By any measure, the world's better off without Lockwood.

He steals, destroys, causes cancer,

and he'd love to shove his fist up the London infrastructure.

He is the breed of influence-peddling corruption I'm trying to expunge.

- You can't murder your way into office. - That's for the voters to decide.

- What does he have on you? - Joe.

I have nothing to hide.

The man is untouchable.

- What am I supposed to do? Sink his yacht? - You'll figure it out.

Rhys, it's a military opera... What?

I'll make you this promise, this is the last thing I ever ask of you.

Let the black blood of Tom Lockwood wash all the other blood from your hands.

You won't only make London a better place, you'll be balancing your karmic scales.

Forever.

Aha.

All I want is to tell the world the truth about you,

but you'd tell them about me. So I need to know.

Why are you really afraid of Lockwood?

I need to get closer to Kate's dad to find out how to take you down.

- Well? - It's fine?

No, I'm sorry. I mean, it's actually subpar at best.

All the Indian restaurants in London, that's your regular haunt?

- Well... - Crappy place around the corner from...

What is that? A condemned bomb shelter?

Okay, all right, fine.

Take me somewhere better. I'm a creature of habit.

- Take me somewhere better. - Can't believe you're still eating that.

Okay. All right, you pick the food forever, fine.

What are you doing tomorrow?

A really long pause, traditionally not a great sign.

- What? - Oh, I would really love to,

but I have to go out of London tomorrow.

To visit her secret husband she's about to tell me about?

My father's coming in.

And here's my opening. Cue the surgical precision.

Does that work?

Icing him out?

In that I avoid him. Yes.

Can I make a tiny suggestion? Or I can shut up.

No, no, no. I mean, I'm not exactly a Zen master about this.

What if...

you just went to dinner?

Show him you're secure...

and happy...

and past it all.

Use your fake boyfriend. He'll help underscore the secure and happy bit,

and he can, you know, reach under the table and hold your hand.

You'd do that for me?

I would do a lot for you.

I'm gonna need you to change the subject by kissing me.

I didn't know it would be like this.

We've barely grazed the surface.

Take me home, you bland-palate'd white knight.

So despite how complicated her feelings about him are,

I really hope I don't have to kill her father.

- Do something to your hair? - Um, no, same as it always is.

So much coverage on this Eat The Rich Killer,

but there's so little actual information.

Everyone just loves a crazy woman.

What more do you need? We were there.

I was there.

You, fuffing about by the open bar.

People draw hasty conclusions in the name of a good story.

- I get the sense we're not going to lunch. - Oh, shit.

No, no, it's fine.

Tell me what you're working on. I know that face. Some puzzle.

Um...

Okay, right. Let's say that I was writing a whodunit

based on a bunch of celebrity-level socialites.

- Good idea. - Right? So wouldn't the suspect

being an erotomaniac be a little bit too obvious?

A better twist would be an average Joe kind of...

Someone like Professor Moore?

I never said that, but...

Too bonkers to be plausible.

It's just, it's this nagging feeling I have that he knows something.

It's annoying me that it's distracting me so much.

- So theoretically... - Theoretically.

...if... if I were to try and disprove my own stupid conspiracy theory,

like, how would I get close to Professor Moore?

You could shag him.

Theoretically. Sorry, I was joking. I wasn't talking about...

It was a Freudian slip.

Glad I trusted you, so you can just forget it.

- Wait. Wait, Nadia. - Forget all of it.

Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Nadia.

Tonight, I meet Tom Lockwood face-to-face as Kate's boyfriend.

Classic rom-com setup. Hopefully it doesn't end in death.

But to arm myself, I need a fuller portrait of the ruthless, amoral CEO.

This is him? He looks like a country-club golf pro.

Scholarship kid, athlete, first in his class at everything. CEO at 26.

And once he came into his own, well,

Kate told me some atrocities he's committed.

What's most terrifying is how underreported all those things are

and the speed at which I'm redirected to charity work.

Evidently the more foundations a man names after himself, the more he has to hide.

I've never found so little about a figure so public.

Does this guy control the Internet?

- Yeah? - Hey, professor.

Um, I was wondering if you had a chance to read my story.

Shit. I never opened it.

I'm sorry it's been crazy. I started it and then I got distracted, and...

Okay, no, it's fine.

I'm glad because I think I still need another twist.

Um, so I've been riffing off of what happened at Sundry House.

I know where this is going.

You were in the room. Did you get any sense

of Dawn Brown's motivation for killing Malcolm or cutting him up?

Shut it down. Shut it down.

- Or Simon. Why keep...? - I don't wanna hurt your feelings,

but the reason I couldn't finish your story is because,

by page 15, you'd already lost me.

It's too complicated.

Just figure out what you are trying to say before you throw in any more plot twists.

Pains me to sting her, but I can't have my smartest student asking smart questions.

Okay. Well, thanks for giving me a shot.

Yeah.

Could I just ask, did you get why Miranda needed to leave home?

- Did that make sense? - Of course.

No, your character work is great, always, but just simplify.

Mm.

Thanks.

Dinner with Kate's dad,

moral support for her while sizing him up for you.

Remember, he's pure evil and you're going to love him.

Katherine.

- Wow, it's been too long. - Dad.

I forgot how you light up a room.

Dad, this is Jonathan.

He teaches literature at Darcy College,

we're seeing each other and it's serious.

So I thought he ought to meet the infamous patriarch.

Shall we sit?

Serious, huh?

Well, looking forward to getting to know you.

Joe.

No.

Thank you.

Okay, he knows my real name. So he knows about Madre Linda.

No guarantee he knows everything about me. Not like you.

She's working to give him nothing, but he's charming his way under her skin.

Well, how are you really, honey? I know it's been tough.

So sorry about your losses.

You mean, my murdered boyfriend? Or my other dead friends?

Yeah, it's been tough.

Tragic is what I mean.

Painful.

Sad, unfair, I'm just very sorry.

It's fine, Dad. Talk about literally anything else.

Kate was right.

He's deceptively down-to-earth, likable even.

So, Jonathan...

what is it you teach?

- Light on interrogation, please. - No, no, it's fine, it's fine.

Um, American short fiction currently.

Ah. I'm a nonfiction man myself.

I guess Roosevelt's Rough Riders is my own personal bible.

Manifest Destiny, white savior.

But if I'm being honest,

yeah, a great work of fiction exposes something deeper,

gets to the truth of who a person really is. Right?

- Hmm. - Ouch.

Take Katherine. I knew she'd be a true philanthropist.

She tell you about the time she adopted every single pit bull

in a rescue in Los Angeles?

No. No.

The lady's like, "Well, pits, they can be a little harder to adopt."

Katherine, she's probably 10, she gets this look on her face.

She demands my phone, proceeds to call every one of my contacts,

and tell them that I'm personally giving them a dog.

Yes.

I'm not surprised. She takes very good care of everything she loves.

I'm still just knocked Barbra Streisand turned that puppy down. Yes.

- I think it's amazing... - No wonder she ran away

from a dad who's proud of her goodness and a remorseless corporate vulture.

- Yes. - Dinner, sir?

- Thank you. - You're welcome, sir.

Sir.

What does he have on you, Rhys?

And on me?

Four courses later and I still don't know Tom's game.

Or why you need him dead.

Ah. Time for dessert.

Thank you.

Presenting the Lockwood Museum.

As in Katherine Lockwood.

Oh, yeah, New York City,

Lower East Side, paperwork's all done, endowments, the works.

Wouldn't be a devil without a classic temptation.

What are you playing at?

It's your dream, honey.

My collection's sitting in a vault somewhere. Take it.

You can feature your emerging artists.

They profit. You shine.

I... Just think about it.

That's all I ask.

I will. In the loo.

So let's get down to brass tacks, Joseph.

What can you tell me about Love Quinn?

And here we go.

My former wife was deeply troubled.

My greatest regret is that I couldn't help her.

Did you kill her?

She killed herself and nearly... me.

You ever kill anyone?

Okay, enough.

I understand you worry about Kate. I do too.

I had some bad luck at one point.

But I'm a quiet guy, and I only want a quiet, academic life.

Don't hurt Kate or you'll meet the real me.

Ah. Thank you.

Hey, you know a Rhys Montrose?

Hangs out in Kate's circle?

Jackpot.

We met, yeah.

Mm. What can you tell me about him?

Why? You're not a fan?

He's a threat to my interests.

I'm here to whip him,

politically speaking.

Press is running a story.

That memoir of his is...

It's an embellishment.

Once a liar, always a liar.

- That sounds bad. - Well, maybe not fatal.

So if you can tell me anything, I'd be grateful.

Maybe Joe Goldberg can't out you as a serial killer, but...

Bring me something real, Joe. I promise you, I'll protect you.

The enemy of my enemy is my frenemy.

Sorry, Rhys, I'm not gonna kill Tom Lockwood.

I'm going to use him to put you in prison.

Kate.

Kate.

You wanna come up?

Or say a word to me?

You know, no, I have to check on Phoebe.

She's texting me.

She's a bit dodgy since the whole, you know...

Yeah.

Thank you for tonight. You were a real support.

I'm sorry, I'll be myself when he's gone.

Just so you know, I saw through him.

The museum is too good to be true.

No, it's true.

It's exactly what I want. When I want it.

I almost said "yes" on the spot.

Ugh. Dinner was a... Was a bad idea. He knows me like he knows himself.

Then he knows that you're not him and you never will be.

Look at you right now.

You're foregoing mind-blowing sex to check on your friend and that's who you are.

So this offer, take it or don't,

but it's what you do with it that matters most and you would do good things.

Have a good night.

Lockwood's been in town one night and he's already doing damage.

I'm starting to see why you want him dead.

But I'm coming for you first.

Sorry, I texted so late. Sure I'm not intruding?

Don't be daft. You can stay as long as you like.

The security company was supposed to upgrade my flat,

but I caught one of them using the loo, so I just fired them.

Could've done anything in there.

Like pinhole cameras, two-way mirrors.

Oh, God.

Given what you've been through, some paranoia is reasonable.

Bella says I must be cursed.

She knows a psychic that can break any curse for only 8,000 pounds.

Tell me you didn't.

No. I fired her. Fired everyone.

I might just sell the flat.

- What about Pembrokeshire? - For...?

It's almost potato season.

Doesn't that sound lovely?

Smell of the earth, wind in my hair.

Maybe that's my calling.

Pheebs. Just take a breath.

I would like a trade, you know? I would...

I would like to be capable of something.

- You are capable of a great deal. - I do nothing. I handle nothing.

I'm like this big, long baby.

- It's disgraceful. - No.

Your friends were killed. Phoebe, you were bloody kidnapped.

The most capable woman on Earth would have PTSD.

PTSD?

Oh, no, I don't want that. How do I get that out?

- No, well, I think... - I hate this.

...maybe a mental health professional.

- Oh, I'm already taking all the pills. - Maybe we take a look at those.

Just rebalance under observation.

You need rest. Phoebe, there is no shame in it.

No, Kate. The press could find out.

I will handle it. I mean, I've done it for others.

Famous artists.

I mean, fuck, I've done it for my own mother.

Just a discrete, brief stay.

We can go tonight. I'll make some calls. All you have to do is pack.

Yes. And make sure you use a nom de plume.

We'll be there in 40.

Thank you.

- What are you doing here? - Kate, I'm homeless.

- Ugh. This isn't a good time. - Look, wait, just listen.

I was asleep on a bench in Bloomsbury Square

and I was attacked by crackheads.

They had a crack dog. I swear, it was on crack.

- I... I have a bruise. - No, you don't.

Okay. Is Phoebe still up?

You are the last thing she needs. Adam, she's not well.

- What? - I'm taking her to Welder Hill Hospital.

If you care about her, let me get her the help she needs.

- I'll drive. - I thought you were homeless.

- I have the Aston for one more day. - Oh, my God.

Kate, look, look, I know I was a little shit.

I know that I hurt her, but this morning, when I lost everything...

- Not everything. - Everything that matters.

My club,

my reputation, my girl.

I had an awakening, okay?

But, Kate, give me a chance to do the right thing,

and I promise you, I will not hurt her.

I'm nothing without her.

Okay.

It's only a drive.

I trust him.

I miss you.

I'm so glad you're okay.

Jonathan Moore can't tell the police you're a killer

because of the small issue of being Joe Goldberg.

But if I can get a taped confession, give it to Lockwood,

he can use his connections to take you down.

So dangle some bait to get you here.

I can see why you want TL dead. Given what he has on you.

I knew you'd bite.

All right, spill.

What does Lockwood claim he knows?

What do you think he knows?

Don't be coy.

Watch me.

Was it about a book?

Who hasn't taken liberties with their own story? It's called writing.

That's what you're most afraid of? People finding out?

What?

You smell that?

Smells like a fucking rat.

Shit.

You think I'm a fucking idiot? Hmm?

When are you going to understand? I'm smarter than you.

Look familiar?

Yes, Joe.

I found your old lover.

She's a feisty one.

- How...? - Repeat after me.

I'm smarter than you.

Is she dead?

How would that be smart? No one even knows she's gone.

I texted her babysitter friend from her phone.

"Oops. I tripped and fell on a heroin needle.

Please look after my daughter."

Whatever her name is.

Her name is Juliette and she needs her mother!

Oh, easy. I'd stay right there, mate.

Driver's outside, campaign staff know my whereabouts. Let's keep it civil.

- Shall we? - Where is she?

She's tucked away. Kill Lockwood and I'll release her immediately.

However, if Lockwood isn't dead in 24 hours,

I'll send you Marienne Bellamy's teeth in a fucking fruit basket.

It's impossible.

Where are you holding her?

I watched her get on the train.

Fuck.

This is all my fault.

Clock's ticking...

I WANT HIS BALLS IN A NEAT LITTLE PACKAGE

Good morning to you too.

Why do you seem extra sadistic today?

And Tom Lockwood drops his bomb.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

The people of London are shaken to learn

you fabricated parts of A Good Man In A Cruel World

to make yourself more good and the world more cruel,

but not one accusation of murder.

You've got more super fans than Elon Musk.

Maybe your approval rating dips, but my gut says you survive this.

"Requests for comment have not been returned.

Montrose has fled his home in London."

Of course you vanish. Coward.

While you use an innocent woman to force me to do your dirty work.

I have to kill Tom today...

to save Marienne.

How?

You didn't sleep either.

The last person I need right now and the only one I want to see.

I was up all night thinking.

My stupid brain.

About?

Us.

How great we are.

And how we've been doomed from the start.

We need to talk.

Uh-oh. Did her dad say something?

Remember when I told you how when I worked there,

my father gave a load of kids cancer to get a pipeline built?

He didn't.

I did.

I was 19. They called me the Prodigy.

They said I was the best they'd ever seen since, well, Tom Lockwood.

And it didn't even eat me alive.

I just compartmentalized

and I could have gone on making compartments forever.

So that's the truth.

Tom pushed her to be monstrous.

So she thinks she's a monster.

I'm not judging, I'm listening.

You should judge.

I'm not scared of being my dad. I'm already worse.

I was so busy proving I was the strongest girl alive

that I didn't care.

And that is still in me.

We all have something bad in us.

- Not this bad. - You were a teenager.

Okay, stop trying to rationalize this.

I'm not, I'm not.

- I'm not. - Look, let's be real.

You and I, we don't stand a chance

because I will never not be Katherine Lockwood.

Look, if I thought I was doomed to repeat my past,

we never would have even met.

You know what my favorite thing about love is?

It gives you second chances.

You know, I had this fantasy last night...

that we could escape, a different city every year,

eat amazing food, have sex in exotic locales,

and do good work,

just change people's lives for the better.

What a stupid idea, right?

Never say never.

This was supposed to be a one-night stand. During the day.

True.

I do want this, Jonathan.

I just want to say...

let the fantasy continue.

I wish.

Because the reality is no matter how much Kate loathes her father,

killing him is only gonna make everything worse for her.

But it's him or Marienne.

Thanks for meeting me. Do you mind if he waits outside so we can have a word?

- Just be a minute. - Sure. Meet you out in the car?

You may be thinking I don't have

a good exit strategy here and you'd be right.

I have a bad one.

Thanks to the misguided trust of English academia,

no security or cameras here.

- Wow. - Yeah.

- What's with the tarps? - They're doing something with the molding.

Easy enough to get a body out,

giving me just enough time to pray and run like hell.

First, are you by chance a fan of Winston Churchill?

I thought you might be.

So we here at Darcy have a rare first edition of My Early Life

notated by the man himself.

Well, I'll be.

That is incredible, Joe.

You okay?

You seem a little nervous.

Hmm.

I think I know why.

Rather, who.

Rhys Montrose.

- I don't know what you mean. - You do.

Got a little hit when I mentioned his name.

And I'd like for you to feel safe enough to tell me everything.

I wish, but Marienne will be dead by morning.

I think you're scared to tell me the truth, son.

Fuck, this dad act really works.

- Not at... Not at all. - That's okay.

I got an idea to deal with all the fallout concerns.

What I do is assess a person to better understand what they're capable of.

Now, I'm gonna take you, for example.

You seem like a nice guy,

thoughtful, caring,

and I think you did kill Love Quinn.

It's okay. She seemed like a maniac. The point is, you did it.

When push comes to shove, you can do it

and do it well enough to get off scot-fucking-free.

I can help you.

How?

Well, that news story and scandal was not meant to ruin Montrose's run,

it was to drive him into hiding.

Part one.

- You know where he is. - Yeah.

He's out in the country at his ex's.

He's trying

to broker support to put his campaign back on wheels.

He's all alone.

Unprotected.

Somehow this IZOD-wearing warlock is delivering me

the thing I want most in the world, you.

- Part two is you. - Me?

You want me?

To kill Rhys Montrose. That's right.

I mean, we know you can.

I think you want to.

And the alternatives aren't great, right?

You're dating my daughter.

Living out there with some assumed name. I'd take it all away, Joe.

Everything.

Of course, now that I'm standing here, I realize there is a third option.

You could just stab me.

Right through the heart.

But trust me,

the choice I'm offering you is the best one.

This is where you'll find him.

Go be your best self.

Pheebs, when you get a chance, can you let me know you're checked in?

You can text. Just let me know.

"Kate."

Surprise!

- We're engaged! - You didn't.

- What? - You had one fucking job.

- No. Don't blame him. - No one's allowed to be happy.

It was... It was my idea.

Look.

The fuck even is this ring?

Some twine that I found on the floor of the pub.

That's how much money doesn't matter to me.

Yeah, same.

I got down on one knee and I told her the truth,

we will never ever be equals because I can't compete with perfection.

- I literally swooned. - Of course you did. You're trolleyed.

You're not thinking clearly, you're not stable.

Kate, Kate, Kate.

We appreciate your help so much. Right?

It's truly nothing short of a lot.

But there's nothing wrong with Pheebs, okay?

A diamond's flaws just make it sparkle even brighter.

- Catch me, Daddy, is that me again? - Uh-oh.

Oh, my God.

I lost the key and I said I'd water his plants.

Oh, thank you so much.

Give my love to Uncle Dev.

- I can't believe I did that. - Stay out of trouble, Nadia.

Oh, my God.

I have lost my bloody mind.

Okay. Um...

You seem like a rare book.

Uh...

I'm a wanker. I'm sorry, Nad. Forgive me.

As a peace offering, I thought you'd wanna see this.

Maybe you were on to something about Professor Moore.

These photos were leaked to my dad from the crazy woman's flat.

For your eyes only!

You're in there, begging your ex-wife

to stand by you in the press?

I wonder how she'd feel to know you kidnapped an innocent young mother.

Five minutes with you is all I need.

Here we go.

Emma, wait! What happened was such a long time ago.

It doesn't matter. Why can't we talk about this properly? Emma!

Please, why can't we just talk?

It doesn't fucking matter!

Fuck off!

- Sorry, do I know you? - Really?

Tom Lockwood wants you dead.

Did you know that? Despite what either of you think, I'm not...

a killer, so I'm not gonna kill you, but...

will I apply pressure?

Sadly, yes. It's time for you to tell the truth, Rhys.

Do you know...

all the awful shit...

I had to read to learn how to do this to you?

All because you had to go and touch Marienne.

This won't be fun.

But I'm only interested in getting what I need and being done.

So I hope you feel the same.

I'm gonna take this gag off.

And when I do, you're gonna confess everything, starting with:

Where is Marienne?

I don't know anyone called Marienne. I don't know what you're talking about.

I wish you would stop acting.

Fuck.

Where is she?

Stop gaslighting me.

You know who I am. You know what you've had me do for you!

I let her go.

I'd stepped away!

I was starting over!

Where is she?

Tell me where she is! Tell me or I'll kill you!

You fucking psychopath!

Tell me!

What did I do?

It was an accident. I lost it.

Marienne, I'm so sorry. I'll find a way. I will find you.

Well, isn't this a pickle?

Uh...

Uh...

Okay. I'm hallucinating.

- I... - Killed me? Yes.

But not before a shocking amount of military-grade ball torture.

He wasn't lying, Joe.

He didn't know you.

But then I wasn't lying either.

We really do have Marienne in a cage.