Chapter 8

Before Esther could even form a denial, Julian lunged at her. His hands closed around her throat, choking off her air supply.

"I warned you," he hissed, his face inches from hers. "You will pay for this."

His bodyguards grabbed her, pinning her arms.

"Julian, what are you doing?" she gasped, her voice trembling.

"An eye for an eye," he snarled.

He picked up a large piece of the broken champagne flute. He grabbed her hand and, without a flicker of hesitation, dragged the sharp edge of the glass across the back of it.

Pain, white-hot and blinding, shot up her arm. She screamed, a raw, animal sound of agony.

He did it again. And again. On both her hands, leaving deep, bleeding gashes. Blood dripped from her fingers, pooling on the polished floor.

She collapsed, her body convulsing in pain.

Through a haze of agony, she heard Julian' s cold voice. "Get the doctors. Make sure the baby is okay." Then he took Katia' s uninjured hand and walked away.

Esther lay on the floor, watching him go, a bitter smile twisting her lips. She was so tired. So incredibly tired.

She woke up in the same hospital bed, her hands swathed in thick bandages. The pain was a dull, constant throb.

"You' re lucky," the nurse said grimly. "The cuts were deep. You' ll have scars."

Esther just stared at her bandaged hands. "It' s the last time," she whispered.

She picked up her phone. A notification blinked on the screen. Her visa for the UK had been approved.

A long, slow breath escaped her lungs. It was the breath of a prisoner who had just been told she was free.

The door opened and Julian walked in. He glanced at her hands, his expression unreadable.

"You brought this on yourself," he said, his voice hard. "If you had just behaved, none of this would have happened."

"You' re right," Esther said, her voice calm and even. "It won' t happen again."

He thought she was finally submitting. A smug smile touched his lips. "Good. As long as you' re obedient, I' ll take care of you."

She said nothing.

He frowned, annoyed by her silence. "I' ll be back to check on you when you' re less... morose." He leaned down and kissed her forehead, a gesture that was now a grotesque parody of affection. "I' ll see you next week."

The door closed behind him.

The placid look on Esther' s face dissolved, replaced by a cold, hard emptiness.

Never again, she thought. You will never see me again.

She got out of bed, ignoring the protests of the nurses, and checked herself out of the hospital.

As she passed the VIP suite, she heard Katia' s voice, loud and triumphant, talking to a friend on the phone.

"It worked perfectly! He's at 99% on my scale. Soon, I' ll hit 100%, and this whole mission will be complete. The Mcgee fortune, all of it, will be mine. These idiot men are so easy to play."

Esther paused, then a small, humorless smile touched her lips. She wondered what Julian' s face would look like when he finally learned the truth.

She went to the county clerk' s office and, with the help of her lawyer who expedited the filing using the signed consent form, finalized the divorce.

Then she went back to the penthouse. She opened the refrigerator and took out the small box. Cold air wafted out. Inside, the tiny, perfectly formed fetus floated in a clear liquid. A monument to a love that had turned to poison.

She placed the signed, official divorce certificate on top of the box and left it on their bed.

She picked up her single suitcase and walked out of the penthouse, out of the building, out of the life that had almost destroyed her. She didn' t look back.

At the airport, she took out her SIM card, snapped it in half, and dropped it in a trash can.

As the plane took off, climbing into the clouds, she looked out the window at the sprawling city below.

He had promised they would never be apart.

He was wrong.

He had lost her. Forever.