Chapter 3

Ethan charges. Hand clamping around my throat.

Eyes bloodshot. Nothing behind them but murder.

"You really think I won't, Zoe? You really think I give a shit?"

Vision going dark. But I look right at him. And smile. Force the words through his grip.

"Do it then... squeeze..."

"...just like you watched Lily choke on her own blood."

Her name. His fingers loosen. Just a fraction.

I drive my knee up between his legs. Hard as I can.

He grunts. Grip gone. I stagger back. Gasping. Throat raw and burning.

Guards swarm me. Arms wrenched behind my back. Face slammed into cold marble.

Amber peeks out from behind him. Pure poison in her eyes.

"Baby, are you okay? Make her kneel! Force that bitch to her KNEES!"

He straightens. Fixes his collar. Looks down at me like I'm something on the bottom of his shoe.

"You heard her. Amber doesn't like you standing."

He crouches. Quiet. Clear.

"Get on your knees. Apologize. Then smash the hand you touched her with."

Pause. "Or I dump Lily's ashes in a pig trough. Your choice."

Lily.

Every muscle in my body goes rigid. Pinned flat. Can't move. I can only wrench my head up and stare at him.

That tiny girl. Who called me Mommy in her little voice. All that's left of her now — a handful of ash.

And he's using even that. To break me.

"You don't deserve to be called her father. You don't deserve to breathe the same air as her memory—" My voice is shredded. Blood on my lips.

He scoffs. Amused.

"Monster or man — wasn't that your choice? You married me, Zoe. You picked this."

And he's right. I fell for Ethan Cole when he was nothing. Broke. Empty pockets. Big mouth.

I ignored my father's warnings. Walked away from everything the Sinclair name meant.

Poured it all into him — the connections, the resources, my own blood and sweat — built the throne he's sitting on right now with my bare hands.

And what did I get? My daughter slaughtered. Myself thrown out like garbage.

"Hard way it is then."

He stands. Patience gone. Nods at the guard.

The man grabs my right hand.

Ethan watches. Eyes flat. Unreadable.

My voice — raw. But steady.

"You sure you wanna go there, Ethan? You really sure?"