It is not the life Esme wants for herself or for our child.
It’s not the life I intend for us to have.
“I did what I had to do,” I reply. “For my family.”
Budimir’s eyes narrow at me but he holds his tongue just as one of his men appears at the balcony. He steps aside to let two armed guards walk forward. And between them…
“Esme.”
Her eyes find mine and it’s as if she’s heard my whisper. She looks scared. But there’s also a certain conviction in her posture, in her gold eyes that helps calm me.
My queen is okay.
But where’s Phoenix?
That’s the first thought that pops into my head after I’ve reassured myself that Esme looks fine. Physically, at least.
I meet her eyes again, but she looks away this time, as though she’s scared to give something away.
“Bring her down,” Budimir commands. “I’m sure Artem wants a better last look at his wife.”
Esme strides down the staircase with both of Budimir’s men flanking her. She walks stiffly, her back arched straight, her hands barely moving.
The closer she gets, the more I can see the signs of struggle in her appearance. Her clothes have been torn in places, and there’s a smattering of blood splayed across her blouse.
Worst of all, there’s a trapped look in her eyes that I hate seeing.
Like she’s back in a cage she thought she’d left for good.
I step forward instinctively.
“Nuh-uh,” Budimir reprimands, shaking a finger at me. “You can look, but you can’t touch.”
“Fuck you!” I practically yell, my rage bursting free through clenched teeth.
“Careful now,” my uncle warns me. “Or I might stop being so nice. Do you really want to watch the life drain from your wife’s face while you stand there and watch?”
The guards come to a stop a few feet away from Budimir. There’s about four long strides between my uncle and Esme.
Too fucking close for my liking.
I turn my gaze towards Budimir. “You’re the one who should be careful,” I tell him. “Because I’m going to make you pay for what you’ve done.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Does that mean you’re rejecting my offer?”
I glance towards Kian, and then towards Esme.
“You can take your offer and shove it up your ass, traitor.”
Budimir clenches his jaw for a moment. His eyes churn, calculating his next move.
He’s nervous about a full-blown battle. He doesn’t want to risk losing. Nor does he want to risk his own life in the process.
That’s always what mattered most to him.
“Maybe we should ask your pretty little wife for her opinion,” Budimir suggests. “Considering we’re discussing the future of her son, too.”
Esme looks towards me with confusion, but I already know what she’s going to say.