Page 178 of Captive Ruin

“That threat is no more.” His eyes go hard, and his voice lowers. “If there’s even a hint of a move against you, I’ve told them we won’t stop coming. We will destroy them.”

There’s so much menace in his voice it’s impossible not to believe him, and it’s not even directed at me. The Volkovs? They must be running scared.

This man, with his knife on my bed. He’s sworn he’ll never harm me, but he hasn’t sworn never to harm them. He’s killed for me, to protect me. He’s a killer, but he’s done it for me.

Does that make it right? No. But God, it makes it… powerful.

“Is it a bluff?” I ask, curious. “Can you do it?”

“Bastien and I are of one mind on this. If we must, we will bring the full weight of Sentinel down on them.”

“So… I’m really free?” After all this time? I can’t believe it.

He nods slowly, watching me. “Yes.”

No more Serranto. No more threat. “My sister, too?”

“Yes.”

But that means none of this is necessary anymore. No threat, no coercion. No coercion, no marriage. What is he going to do, tie me to this bed and refuse to let me leave?

I wouldn’t put it past him.

Yet he sits there, staring at me with such naked hope in his eyes, I’m not certain he will.

Something has changed, and all I had to do was try to kill myself. Was that the trigger? Was that all that was needed to finally be worthy of his understanding?

Yet I don’t care. I don’t give a damn about his understanding. Not after all he’s done to me.

I take a breath. Then another, seeking the strength I need. And God but do I need a lot of strength for this. I grip the blankets in my fingers, steadying myself.

Am I going to do it? Am I going to ask?

Quickly, before I chicken out.

“I want a divorce.” There. I did it. I might’ve blurted it, not said it firmly like I meant to, but I did it.

Van Wyk slumps back in his chair and lets out a ragged sigh, then rubs a hand over his face. “My worst nightmare.”

“Mine too,” I say quickly. “You forced me into this. I married you to protect my sister, you, myself. But with the threat now gone—”

“Those weren’t my reasons,” he argues. “Yes, I pressured you. But I did it because—” He stops, looking down. When he meets my eyes again, his are beseeching. “Please, Amelia. Don’t I deserve a second chance?”

“No,” I say coldly. Hell, he never deserved a first chance.

He jerks as if I’ve slapped him. “Haven’t I protected you? Haven’t I given you everything you could need?”

I can’t keep the scorn from my voice, and I don’t try. “You have no idea what I need.”

“I can learn,” he says quietly.

I scoff, looking away.

“I can,” he insists. “Please. All I’m asking is for a chance.”

“What were your reasons for forcing me to marry you? Tell me that, at least. I’m dying to know.”

He cringes at my callous reminder, looking at me with mournful eyes. “The worst moment of my life was walking in here to see you that still… the bottle of pills on the floor…” He swallows hard.