Page 94 of Beneath Scarred Vows
“You’re still that little girl clinging to bedtime stories about men like Zervas. You want truth? Here's the truth—this world doesn't let you be a dreamer. You kill, or you get killed. If you can't see that, then maybe you're not the partner I thought you were.”
My breath catches, and then something inside me shatters.
“Then maybe you should’ve married someone you could control!”
I shoot to my feet, rage pulsing in my throat. "You want a partner? Or a fucking parrot? Someone who agrees with every goddamn thing you say? That's not love, Ares. That's dictatorship."
His jaw ticks. His fists clench.
And then?—
He steps so close I have to tilt my head up to meet his eyes. “If you’re defending the man who killed my father, then maybe I don’t know who the fuck I married.”
I break in a way I never have and do something I've never done before.
I slap him.
My hand stings as I process what I've done.
His head barely turns, but something behind his eyes falters.
He lunges, gripping my throat, shoving me back against the chair.
I gasp, my fingers clawing at his arm.
"You've made your fucking choice," he growls. "And it's not me."
His hand clamps tighter, and a cold flash of fear runs through me. Not because I think he'll kill me, but because for the first time, I'm not sure he knows where the line is.
My vision flickers.
For a heartbeat, I wonder if he'll relax his grip.
“I’m done with you. I can’t even fucking look at you.”
Then he lets go.
I collapse, coughing as air rushes back into my lungs.
Without another word, Ares walks out, leaving me alone in his office.
I slump into the chair and start to cry—harder than I have in years. I haven't cried this much since the people I loved left this earth.
After some time, I wipe my face, rage replacing sorrow and regret for allowing myself to get here, to feel these things.
My eyes land on a photo of Ares and his brothers, smiling.
“Fucking asshole,” I yell.
Then I hurl it across the room.
I don't care if he's hurt. I don't care if he regrets it later.
The glass explodes.
And I walk out of his office, hands trembling, my throat burning from where he touched me.
Fuck him.
