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Story: The Duke's Sinful Bride
Hilfern stepped closer, his tone dripping with disdain.
“It seems marriage to the duke has truly addled your brain if you’ve convinced yourself that you’re Maisie’s mother.”
Behind Yvette, Maisie whimpered, tears streaming down her soot-streaked face as she hiccupped from fear. Yvette’s heart wrenched at the sound. She moved protectively in front of Maisie, blocking her from his view as she glared up at him.
“She is my stepdaughter,” Yvette said, her voice unwavering despite the terror building in her chest.
Hilfern’s laughter echoed cruelly, a sound as sharp as broken glass.
“Albina’s daughter. That’s all she will ever be. You’re nothing but a stand-in, a poor substitute for a mother. Let go of these ridiculous delusions of grandeur.”
Yvette’s fingers tightened on Maisie’s shoulders, shielding her from the man’s venomous words.
“What is your problem with Maisie?” she asked, her voice strained as she fought to maintain her composure.
Hilfern’s expression darkened, his lip curling into a snarl.
“She’s the only memory of Albina left in this world. The only piece of her still breathing. I won’t stand by and watch that monster, Killian, destroy her the way he destroyed Albina!”
The accusation sent shockwaves through Yvette’s body.
“What…what are you saying?” she asked, her voice faltering as she tried to make sense of his words.
Hilfern took a step closer, his face contorted with grief and fury.
“Albina was my first love,” he hissed. “We promised ourselves to each other. She was mine. But then, suddenly, she was given away to that…half-breed duke as though she were some slave to be sold.”
Yvette gasped softly, her hands trembling as she pulled Maisie tighter against her, willing the little girl to stay quiet, to stay unnoticed, because it seemed Hilfern was out of his mind—if the subtle slurring of his words was anything to go by.
Hilfern continued, oblivious to Maisie’s struggle.
“I thought I could endure it, thought I could survive seeing her as another man’s wife. But then I went away, and when I returned…” His voice broke, his bitterness giving way to a flicker of raw pain.
“She was dead. Gone. And that man, that half-breed duke didn’t deserve her. He never cherished her as I did.”
Yvette’s throat tightened as she stared at him. His words were filled with a twisted kind of logic, his grief having morphed into an obsession.
Hilfern straightened, his face once again cold and unreadable.
“So now, I’ve come to take Maisie. She’s all I have left of Albina, and I’ll preserve her before Killian destroys her, too.”
Yvette’s eyes burned, both from the smoke and the weight of his words. She could feel Maisie’s tiny frame trembling against her, the little girl trying desperately to stifle her coughs.
“This is insanity,” Yvette whispered, her voice trembling with both fury and disbelief. “You think you can just take her away? Maisie is not yours to take, Hilfern. As her mother, I’ll protect her and you’ll never lay a hand on her.”
Hilfern’s lips curled into a mocking smile.
“Oh, I’ll do more than that if you stand in my way. Step aside, Duchess. Hand her over to me, and I might just let you leave here unharmed.”
Yvette’s heart thundered in her chest, but she didn’t waver. She crouched down, wrapping her arms tightly around Maisie’s small frame.
“If you want her, you’ll have to pry her from my dead arms.”
Hilfern’s expression darkened, his patience snapping.
“I’ll be glad to do so,” he snarled, stepping forward toward Yvette with menace in his eyes.
CHAPTER 30
Table of Contents
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