Page 113 of The Devil's Pawn

He runs the back of his hand over my cheek. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve known what my future holds. As the eldest son, my role will eventually be to take over as head of the family, making me the De Vil representative on The Consortium. It will be my role to head up our various business interests. With that role comes an expectation to continue the line. To have children. When I was younger, it was something I relished, and Annabel and I would talk about it often. We’d plan to have our kids as close together as possible so they could grow up as close as we had.”

His eyes glaze over as though he’s calling upon a memory and watching it play out like a movie. A flash of pain deepens the lines around his eyes, and I know it’s Annabel he’s thinking of.

I half reach up to touch his face, to comfort him, then I remember he injected drugs into me without my knowledge. In that respect, he’s no different from Will.

“Then she was murdered, and I vowed I’d never father a child. I couldn’t run the risk of them being taken because of whoIam. Of who this family is.”

“Then, why marry me at all?”

“Because my father expected me to, and to refuse him would show weakness to The Consortium. If my father can’t manage his own children then what use is he?” He shrugs. “Only one family has ever been disbarred from the council, and it didn’t work out well for them. Plus, it’s always on my mind that it’s my fault Annabel and my mother aren’t here. It’s my fault he lost his eldest daughter and a wife he adored and had cherished for eighteen years. At the very least, I owe him obedience.”

Despite how angry and betrayed I feel, a terrible sadness seeps into my bones. It doesn’t matter how much therapy Alexander puts himself through, he will never shake the guilt of his supposed contribution to his sister’s death and, by extension, his mother’s suicide. He can’t see that he isn’t responsible for the actions of others.

“He doesn’t know what I did. None of my family do. He’d be dreadfully disappointed in me, but this is the one hill I will die on.”

I sit up, needing to put a little distance between us, and the face-to-face position feels too intimate. I’m struggling to process what he’s told me, and it doesn’t explain how he found me yesterday, nor has he explained when I asked, diverting onto this path instead. But before I can ask again, he continues.

“Last Wednesday, when we had our date…” A faint smile touches his lips—one I don’t mirror. “I saw you with that child, the one who scuffed her knee, and it hit me like a meteor. By keeping you married to me, I was depriving you of the chance to have a family of your own, and while I’d known that, of course, I hadn’tthoughtabout it. Watchingyou tend to her so lovingly made up my mind for me. I had to set you free.”

NowI understand. “Hence the divorce papers.”

“Yes. And I had to rip off the plaster fast, too, before I changed my mind and begged you to forgive me, to stay with me. I’m a selfish man, Imogen, and I have a lot of questionable traits, but putting you first became my sole mission. Making sure you were happy and lived a fulfilling life—one that included children—became my only concern.”

I nibble on a thumbnail, taking my time to think over what he’s said. It’s not that I don’t understand his point of view, but more that I disagree with him so fervently, I want to throttle him. Not so long ago, I would have leaped at the chance to escape this marriage. If Alexander had freely offered the one thing I’d been plotting for since I arrived, I would have taken him up on it and joyfully skipped back to California.

Now… my feelings are so tied up with him, I’m not sure I can. I’m furious that he injected me with contraceptive without my knowledge, but is that a deal breaker? I’m not sure. Do I want children, or do I want Alexander? Because it’s clear I can’t have both.

“That doesn’t explain how you found me.”

He rubs his lips together and takes a deep breath. “No.”

“Well, then?” I prompt.

“The other injection was a tracker.”

If I thought his confession about the contraceptive had flattened me, it’s nothing compared to this. I feel as though an eighteen-wheeler has run over me, the gasp of air I draw in almost painful.

“You…” I glance at my arm, at the place where the needle entered. “A tracker?”

“Yes.” There isn’t a hint of an apology in his tone, or on his face, unlike when he told me about the contraceptive. “It’s connected to an app on my phone. I know where you are to within… a meter or so.”

I blink, trying to absorb such shocking news. “But… why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I gave you a phone and told you it had tracking software built in. I explained the software was to help me keep you safe, yet you kept leaving your phone behind whenever you went out. You gave me no choice.”

As though a stick of dynamite explodes beneath me, I leap out of bed. “Oh, no! Don’t you dare gaslight me. This isn’t about me. It’s aboutyouand your need for control. You didn’t even fucking like me when you had this thing implanted into me.” I poke at my arm. “I want it out.”

“No.”

I widen my eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me well enough. I don’t intend to repeat myself.” He lounges on the bed as though he hasn’t a care in the world, his head propped on the heel of his hand.

“I mean it, Alexander. I want this tracker out of my arm, and I want an antidote or whatever to this contraception you forced on me.”

I’m aware there’s no such thing as an antidote to contraception. It’ll run its course. And the truth is, I’m not even that mad about it, especially because, when he had me injected, my plan was to force him into divorcing me, anyway. A child would only have complicated things, tying me to him for life. I’ll get over the contraception issue, even if he did it without my permission, but the tracker… for him to have the ability to know where I am every minute of every day… it’s too much. Too invasive.

“Antidote?” His eyebrow flickers, one corner of his mouth twitching. He’s laughing at me. This entire shit show is amusing to him.

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