Page 47 of Gamble with Me
"Hi," I greeted stoically, seeing in the mirror behind the desk that Zyon watched my every move but played nice for now. He bounced on his feet beside his brother as if he couldn't wait to intervene, yet he controlled himself. It made my heart flutter that he respected my decision. It didn't happen often while I was married to Chester, and it felt great.
"Well, hello, Valeria," Chester hissed through gritted teeth, barely holding his temper on a leash. He was furious.
"What is so important that it couldn't wait until I get home?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest to shield myself from his hateful gaze.
"Home where, hm?" he seethed, approaching me. Knowing Zyon stood close by, I didn't back away. I felt much stronger with him and Dorian watching me.
"What do you want, Chester?" I sighed, intending to deal with him as quickly as possible. I wasn't in the mood for his lies and empty promises. With everything going on in my life right now, he was the last man I was interested in.
"I want you to return home to me and our daughter," he replied with a cocky expression, knocking the oxygen from my lungs.
"What?" I whispered, horrified. The heavy boulder settled in my stomach, and my chest tightened to the point that my heart almost stopped. Zara was my everything. I didn't vouch for myself if he got his nasty paws on her and hurt her.
"I took Zara home with me," Chester stated, briefly glancing over my shoulder where Zyon and Dorian waited. "And it's up to you if you join us or not."
"She's my daughter." My face twisted into an angry snarl, and I fisted my palms, ready to start beating him. "You can't take her from me."
"I'm her father. I can do whatever the fuck I want."
I siezed his good arm, overcoming an urge to punch him. Different emotions swirled inside of me, but fear for my baby girl was the most prominent. Chester would hurt her only to hurt me; I knew it. The panic almost blinded me.
"Let her go," I pleaded, not knowing what else to do. My husband never reacted well to threats. He mostly smiled in my face when I threatened him.
"You can be with her only under my roof," he declared arrogantly, a smug grin crossing his face. My insides twisted with disgust. I couldn't comprehend how I could spend so many years loving and caring for him.
"Chester, please. That's insane," I said, my knees trembling. My brain was on high alert, thinking about how to persuade him to leave us alone. I could wave at Zyon to come and force him to cooperate, but what if he had someone with Zara? If he covered all the bases, I had to play by his rules; otherwise, my girl could get caught up in the crossfire.
"You're my wife. You belong to me." His eye bored to mine, and I instantly knew I couldn't win this. "And if you think your new friendship with the Zhumagulovs will change something, you're very mistaken. I have someone much more powerful than these lunatics behind my back. So if they try to interfere, they'll die."
The breath stuck in my throat, and I let go of his arm, staring at him in disbelief. The man before me wasn't my husband. I didn't know this person full of hatred and loathing.
Just the thought of living under the same roof with him almost brought me to my knees, but I had to fight because of my daughter. Never in my life would I abandon her. Her well-being was my priority, and even when my heart was bleeding, I had to agree to Chester's conditions.
-23-
Valeria
Anger always was a powerful fuel for me. It pushed me over the edge or toward my goal with crushing force. It made decision-making much easier—impulsive but easier.
Of course, many times, I regretted what I'd done while being pissed like hell, but in the end, it was liberating. Being diplomatic was my first choice, but when decency failed, I loved that little nudge off the devil on my shoulder, whispering to me to send nasty assholes where they belonged.
It was the same with Chester and his outrageous attempt to blackmail me into living with him again. At first, I was terrified for Zara's safety. Yet, when I counted two plus two and gathered my thoughts, I assumed he wouldn't hurt her. He wasn't the father of the year, and he would surely use her to force me into something, but he wouldn't ill-treat his own child.
However, this discovery didn't defuse my anger. Quite the opposite; it empowered it more. I had enough of being constantly ordered around by him, telling me what I could and could not do.
Chester always found a strange pleasure in picking my clothes, deciding my accessories, or showing me off like I was a pretty doll. But I was a living, breathing person with my opinions, thoughts, and preferences. He couldn't dictate to me anything, not anymore.
I stuck my key into the lock, turning it to open the door toChester'sapartment. Thankfully, Zyon hadn’t heard what we’d argued about and allowed me to leave early with the excuse that my daughter had a fever.
Everything in the hall was precisely as I left it. The place was clean and tidy as if no one had entered it since I abandoned it. My stomach clenched with shaking anxiety when I realized how much I loathed this flat.
It felt like a cage, like the walls were shrinking around me, attempting to crush me. My heart rate increased, and my breathing quickened. It was an extreme reaction to a place I once called home.
"Welcome back, baby doll."
Chester's voice prevented my panic attack because only one look into his disgusting face and all the hateful feelings returned with full force.
"I won't stay long," I hissed, lowering my voice so Zara didn't hear us. "I only came to pick up my daughter."
