Dolls

may her will be done

Chapter 72 Part I: Coria

"Darling."

He says it with pure, truthful venom. I forgot how much I hated his voice until now.

"Your little diversion worked well, but alas, I knew Hayes would be with you." He steps further into the room, and I take a step back. He smiles, closing the door and locking it while he speaks. "Speaking of... ah, Hayes. What, my cock wasn't good enough for you?"

I want to tell him that it was never about the sex; it was about the utterly all-consuming love. But I owe him nothing. He took my safety from me, so I owe him nothing. He caused me to run, so I owe him nothing. He hurt my daughter, so I owe him nothing.

"And that speech." He blows out a breath. "You really made the world believe that you are the world's most upstanding woman. Little do they know you are just an attention-seeking whore."

Anger flares in my chest. They always use that word. "Whore"—even though they made me who I am, though this is their system, and they set it up. And, I mean, come on, get a new word. At least something more accurate.

"If you did not want me to make a speech, you should not have given me ammo to do so," I say. "If anything, this is on you."

He takes a step forward. "Wives are supposed to keep their mouths shut! I funded your lifestyle, your daughter's fucking clothes, and you have the audacity to complain?"

A humorless laugh escapes me. "Only you could hear what I said and take it as complaining. And how dare a child need basic necessities like clothes."

His eyes narrow, flashing his gun. "You've gotten mouthy."

At the sight of the barrel, my heart ratchets up a notch in my chest. I have to be careful, even though I want to scream in his face. I think of my daughter, who is waiting for me in a cabin. I think of Hayes, who has a future for us and who is fighting for me downstairs. I have to fight for him, too.

So I cannot be rash.

"Is that what you want, then? For me to come back and be the dutiful wife? Warm your bed when you are not with your teen mistress?"

Now, he laughs.

"You think I can go back? After what you said? Even with the bullshit you spewed, they still believed you. They took my power, my office, my men, and they sided with you. There is no way I would ever get my power back, let alone let you back in my bed as my wife." He smirks a bit. "Besides, that teen mistress? They had quite a bit to clean up after what I did to her."

Nausea hits me. Then anger. I can only imagine how violent he felt, hearing the words I spoke. And he killed her because of it. The entitlement he carries, the rashness, the violence—he has never faced punishment in his life. No type of consequences. Not with his mother, with me, Sybella, his mistress. And fuck, it pisses me off endlessly. To the point where my face heats and I can hardly voice anything but curses.

"You're a monster," I spit, the anger making my breath come harder and faster. "A... a monster."

"And yet, the father of your children. The man you have slept with for years. You did nothing for them, only for me."

"I knew nothing else. I had no phone, no way of knowing who was hurting outside those double doors."

"And yet you still spoke. You made a speech about things happening outside those double doors." His voice is still smooth and demeaning, while mine is rushed and panicked.

"Because I learned. I saw the news and the orders and heard about your atrocities. You let Clayton rape me and then left me alone... the opportunity presented itself."