Page 6 of Cruel Juliet

In truth, I never wanted it to come to this. There was a time—before the hospital and the betrayal that tore us apart—that I was falling for her. Against my better judgment and everything I knew about her family, I let myself want her. I believed we could build something.

Then an assassin came for Dimitri while he was still in a coma.

I was certain she had a hand in it. Who else could have passed on the details? Someone had slipped word back to the people who wanted us destroyed, and she was the only one who made sense.

I felt like a fool. I’d let myself get played while my family bled, and Dimitri almost paid the price. That’s what I thought at the time.

But I was wrong. I know that now. But back then, all I could see in Sima’s explanations was betrayal.

I meant to fix it. To tell her I was sorry. I played the words over and over in my head, trying to find a way to admit that I had doubted her when I shouldn’t have.

I told myself we’d sit down, talk, figure out a way forward. I almost convinced myself we could still make it work.

But she didn’t give me the chance. She was gone before I could open my mouth. She vanished with my child and left me with nothing. Not even a note.

That kind of disappearance costs more than heartbreak. A husband without his wife looks weak, and apakhanwho can’t control his own house looks like he can’t control anything.

I was supposed to be cemented after my strike against the Danilos. When I killed Anatoli, his death should have secured my throne.

Then Sima threw all that into disarray. Instead of bowing to me, myvorydecided to wait and see if I really had the strength to lead. But the politics, the judgment and the whispers—none of it hurt as much as the thought of what she might be walking into.

I have enemies everywhere. Men who would use her as leverage. Bastards who would take her just to hurt me.

And she has enemies, too. Her family’s shadow stretches long. If they had gotten to her before I did, she’d be lost to me forever.

My face stays still, my tone clipped. “We’re going back.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t just leave like this. I need to pack some things. Clothes. Baby things. You can’t expect me to walk out with nothing.”

“Already done.”

Her brows knit. “What do you mean?”

“Your things are packed and loaded onto the plane.” Her shoulders stiffen, but I don’t offer her an explanation. “Everything you need is there. All we’re missing is you.”

Her mouth presses into a thin line. A stubborn look twists her face, one I know too well. She doesn’t appreciate anyone pulling strings for her. Never has.

Tough luck. That’s what she gets from me now.

“You think you can just move me your chessboard around like one of your little toy soldiers?” She takes a breath and narrows her eyes. “And that I’ll, what? Stay quiet and obey?”

“Yes,” I say flatly. “That’s exactly what I think.”

She shakes her head again. “That’s not how this works, Petyr. I’m not one of your possessions. I never was.”

“You don’t get to tell me how it works,” I growl. “Not when your judgment is this flawed.”

“Myjudgment’s flawed?”

“Yes,” I snarl. “You thought running would be smart. It wasn’t. It was stupid and reckless and fucking dangerous.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Clearly, you can’t.” I lean forward. “You disappear, leave a trail, and I’m the one who finds you. You think anyone else wouldn’t have? That they would have let you walk away? You’re lucky it was me who showed up at your door.”

“Right,” she says dryly. “I’m the luckiest woman on the planet.”

“Deal or no deal, you’re coming home with me.”Her lips press together, but I don’t give her the space to argue. “Whether you like it or not.”