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“We have to leave, Ez. You’re no longer welcome here,” Roarke softly says as if he’s talking down an injured animal. You’re no longer welcome here, not we .

Doing as Caleb was when we arrived, I’m sitting on the snowy front stoop to Katya’s house, not giving a shit that my trousers are damp. I’m numb, but I fear the ebbing sensation– the pain is coming, and it’s time I deal with it.

“I can’t leave yet,” I hopelessly mutter. “Katya needs me.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Caleb takes up residence against the front door, barring me entrance to Kat’s house. Coldly glaring at me, leaning on the door with his arms crossed over his muscular chest, Caleb looks more bodyguard than the man I call friend.

The uncensored bro is gone, and in his place is a highly professional killing machine.

“You’re no longer welcome in this house, Ezra. After Syn called to say you had the security codes, I called the security company and changed them. I also informed them who was authorized and who wasn’t… and before you go hysterical with a shit-fit, Cortez, Aaron, Roarke, and I have the codes. Ava will not, because she will tell you. You needn’t worry about Katya, because we are making sure she and the kids are safe within these walls.”

“So just me and my daughter– Katya believes us to be monsters?” I slowly drawl out in disgust– the disgust inwardly directed at myself.

I am a monster.

Judging by the horrified look on Katya’s face as she vented at me, I’ve turned my daughter into one as well. A snippet of conversation filters into my mind: Marcus telling Niel not to fear, I wasn’t to know. Then Katya said Ava did something horrific with Niel and Whitney. I’m sure it’s not a coincidence it fueled Katya’s hatred toward me.

“Marcus too,” Caleb states. “Katya said to me, “Marcus and Ezra aren’t to know the code. I don’t want them to enter my space.” So I told Katya not to tell Ava then.”

“Why Marcus?” My brows dip in confusion.

“Ez.” Roarke knows why, I can tell. That exhausted tone means it’s a truth I can’t handle. Maybe he truly is exhausted, judging by how the sun is rising again– another night passes as Roarke is forced to deal with my shit.

“Katya hasn’t spoken to Marcus in almost a year.” Roarke drops the bomb.

“The fuck?” Jerking back on the step, my foot slips on the ice. “That’s a bullshit lie if I’ve ever heard one.” Anger courses through my veins at a rapid rate, almost as if my body is relieved to feel something other than remorse.

“It’s true.” Roarke doesn’t lie– he’s my tough love enforcer. “Aaron and I noticed, so we confronted Katya about it. She said it started slowly, and then she continued it as a test. She wanted to see if anyone else noticed how you and Marcus made all these important decisions for your family and never once consulted her. As you lived beneath one roof, Marcus went ten months without speaking to Katya in any capacity. Cort almost went three months. You actually made it to six weeks, but you spoke to Katya in your sleep.”

“No fucking way.” Snarling like a rabid animal, I’m tempted to charge through Caleb to get back upstairs to my wife. “No way is that true.” Anger quickly ebbing, I whisper underneath my breath. “Is it?”

Tilting my head to the side, I try to remember the recent past, to conjure a memory of Marcus and Katya chatting at breakfast or in passing. A vision of a week ago bubbles to the fore of my mind, Katya sitting quietly at Whittenhower Estate’s breakfast nook, no one speaking to Katya except for Ava. As I shuffle through my recollections, that is the only scene present. A quiet Katya in different sets of clothing is the only thing distinguishing the memories as separate instances, not a singular event… and I was too wrapped up in my own shit to take notice.

How long has it been since everyone started ostracizing Katya or bullying her to her face? Weeks? Months? Years? I have no idea. It was gradual. A proper husband should have told his friends and family to respect his wife, not encouraged them to disrespect her.

This is all about me, not Katya.

“Ez, when have I ever lied to you?” Roarke kneels down in front of me, looking me dead in the eye. “Aaron and I are always at your side. I live with you, which means I live with Kat, Cort, Diane, Marcus, and the kids. Katya didn’t lie, and neither am I.”

Sounding like a lost, little boy. “I believe you.”

“Good. Katya and I talked last night like adults who are family. She doesn’t want you or Marcus in her private space. Katya isn’t fond of Marcus and his practices. Katya feels that Marcus pushed her at you and Cort, so that you’d get jealous of each other, push her away, and finally just be happy together. She says you’re both stubborn, so it took you four years too long… and I think Kat’s right about Marc’s machinations. I don’t blame her for hating Marcus, and make no mistake, she does hate him. Probably more than anyone in Dominion.”

What else has Marcus done to my wife to make her hate him more than she hates me?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hiding my head in my hands, I practically whine. “I could have fixed it before it spiraled out of control.”

“I figured if you didn’t notice you never would. If Katya were truly as important to you as you say, then none of you would have gone three hours, let alone months, without seeking her out. Now that Katya has left your ass, you can’t seem to go three minutes without terrorizing her. You do see how sick that is, right?”

“Now that you put it out there,” is muttered in shame.

“My job is to protect you, sometimes to protect you from yourself. My job is to clean up your shit. My job isn’t to soothe your injured ego. I was protecting you by allowing Katya to find a way to leave you. You’re better off. Cort is better off. The children are better off. But mostly, I did it for Katya. You are tainting her. You are ruining her. She’s my niece, and my loyalty was split between protecting you and protecting her from you.”

Heart beating a vicious tattoo inside my chest, filled with hopelessness, I gaze up at Roarke like he has all the secrets of the universe. “You think I abuse Katya, don’t you?”

“Trust me, Ez. You don’t want me to truthfully answer that question. I fear our lifetime partnership wouldn’t survive the answer, because you’re not ready to hear it. Upsy daisy!” Roarke grabs my hand, then pulls me to my feet. “We’re leaving and you’re promising to never come back here uninvited.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to make that promise.” I grumble, and I’m not.

I’m not in the proper headspace to make a lifetime commitment of that magnitude. The promise isn’t about the house– it’s about Kat. Never nocturnally stalking her, entering her space, or seeking her out for whatever I need. It’s not about letting go of the control I have over Katya. It’s about finally letting her go, which means letting go of the past. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

“I’m not ready to let Kat go just yet.” Repeatedly swallowing, my body is trying to revolt. I feel sick, but panic isn’t the cause. I finally understand that when I get into my car to leave, I will never be coming back. It’s not about driving away– it’s about going home and setting Katya free.

“Too bad for you.” Roarke thuds me in the center of the back, getting my feet moving. “Good for Katya that it’s no longer your decision to make. You won’t be able to get in because Caleb won’t allow you to enter. You can try to control Katya, but she won’t let you do that ever again. It’s time you behaved. You might as well forget about trying anything manipulative and just work out your own shit and stay out of Katya’s.”

“What shit? I have nothing to work out,” I mumble in denial.

“I’m pulling rank,” Roarke declares. “You have lost your way. I’m dropping you off to Shadow Haven while I get our belongings from Whittenhower Estates. We’re going home, and you’re never leaving it again. You’re going home to Cort and the kids to start the life you should have been living since birth. Everyone around you isn’t going to allow you to do anything else. We’re all sick of your shit, Ez. We’re all pulling rank.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Mumbling, I sound lost and so very afraid of my new reality. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“You go home. You spend a few hours bonding with Cort. You spend a few hours with your children. Then you and Cort need to talk about what happened here tonight. Lastly, you come to terms with all that you’ve done, put it behind you, apologize, and prove you mean it by never doing it again. Prove to Katya that you do care for her by letting her go.”

For the first time ever, I let someone else take the lead. Roarke tugs me toward my SUV, then puts me into the passenger seat, going as far as to belt me in.

As we drive away, I look back. Caleb stands at attention in front of Katya’s house, and I instinctively know he won’t let anyone enter that she doesn’t wish within the building’s four walls.

I hadn’t realized when I hired Caleb to protect and watch over Katya, I was hiring him to protect her from me.

Simultaneously, I feel sick and hopeless over myself, yet hopeful and proud of Katya.