Page 114 of The Devil's Pawn

It’s the final straw.

My temper erupts. “I want it gone, even if I have to take a razor blade to my skin and dig it out of my arm myself.”

“You will do no such thing. Have you any idea of the nerve damage you could do? It’s possible you could lose the use of your arm.”

“Then, I’ll go to a doctor and have them do it.”

At his smirk, my hands form fists. “There isn’t a doctor in Europe who will treat you.”

I return his smirk. “I bet there are plenty in California.”

“You arenotgoing to California.”

Lava bubbles inside my veins, my anger reaching entirely new levels of indignation. “You can’t stop me.”

“I can. I have your passport.”

The bastard. I school my expression and change tactic. Tapping my finger against my bottom lip, I say, “Oh, that’s right. You do. Hmm, we have ourselves a conundrum. What to do? What to do?” I beam at him. “I know. I’ll go see your father and tell him what you did to me, and why you did it, then see if he can help me locate my passport.”

My threat is the catalyst for him to react. He jumps out of bed. “Don’t test me, Imogen.”

“It’s not a test. It’s facts. I’m leaving you.” I march into the walk-in closet and yank down a bag from the top shelf. Alexander is on me in seconds. He snatches it out of my hand and tosses it aside.

“You can’t leave me. Your father signed a deal.”

“A deal predicated ontrust, on his daughter not being controlled, tracked, and forced into taking contraceptionagainst her will. Whatever deal my father signed is moot.” I’ve never been privy to the details of that deal, but I don’t care about them anymore. Dad will have to fix his own problems. I’m done being his pawn. Alexander’s pawn.

I’m nobody’s fucking pawn.

He grabs my wrist as I reach into the closet. “Wrong.”

“Let me go, or I swear, I will scream at the top of my lungs, and whoever comes running will get the full, unabridged tale of what a control freak you are.”

His shoulders sag, and he releases me. “What I did, I did for the right reasons. I started having feelings for you. I wanted you so badly, and I was terrified of something happening to you. I admit, the contraception was to benefit me, but the tracker…” He twists his hands together. “The tracker was to protect you, not control you.”

I think he believes what he’s saying, but that doesn’t negate the fact he put things into my body I did not consent to. He doesn’t get a free pass from that. My heart hurts at the idea of leaving him, even for a short time, but I can’t let this slide. My inaction would only serve to validate his behavior.

“That may be, and if you’d talked to me first, then perhaps I would have agreed—especially if you’d told me about Annabel far sooner. I’d haveunderstoodyour reasoning. But you didn’t do any of that. You made a decision—notwodecisions—that affected my body and my life without discussing them with me first. You’re so used to doing whatever you like, it didn’t occur to you to gain consent.”

“If you recall, you hated me at the time of the ball. How was I supposed to tell you about Annabel when you despised the air I breathed?”

“I hated you because you were vile to me.”

“You were vile to me, too, Imogen. You are not blameless here.”

I plant my hands on my hips. “I never said I was, but I wouldneverdo to you what you did to me without talking to you first. That’s the difference between us.” I hold out my hand. “Passport, Alexander.”

He pivots, and the door to our suite slams shut. Tears prick the backs of my eyes, but I blink them away as I pack a bag. I’m not leaving forever—at least I don’t think I am—but I need space from the intense, frustrating man that is my husband. I need to feel my parents’ embrace, see Emma and my college friends, smell the Pacific Ocean, and walk along the sand on Hermosa Beach. If I’m here, Alexander won’t do the work he needs to do to recognize that what he did waswrong.As much as I’d hate to, I will tell his father what he did if he doesn’t let me go.

I’m zipping up the holdall when he returns and hands over my passport.

“Don’t leave me. Please.”

He looks so lost and alone that I almost change my mind. Almost. From somewhere, I find the strength to pick up my holdall and slot my passport into the side pocket.

“I need some space. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.”

His face brightens a touch. “So, there’s still a chance for us?”

---