Chapter 33 #2
"You wanted the divorce."
"I wanted to fight for it myself." My voice cracks.
"I wanted to stand in front of a judge and prove I'm a good mother.
I wanted to watch Jack's face when he realized he couldn't manipulate his way out anymore.
I wanted—" I press my palm against my sternum, where everything hurts.
"I wanted to win, Nico. Me. On my own terms."
Silence stretches between us.
Nico's jaw works. His hands flex at his sides. I can see him processing, trying to understand something that doesn't fit into his world of problems and solutions.
"You could have lost," he finally says. "Judges can be bought. Jack had Russian money behind him. If I hadn't—"
"Then I would have lost." I cut him off. "And it would have been my loss. My fight. My choice."
His eyes flash. "You think I could watch that happen? Watch him take Lily from you?"
"I think you could have talked to me about it first."
"There wasn't time—"
"There's always time to ask, Nico." I step closer, forcing him to look at me.
Really look. "Eight years. That's how long Jack made decisions about my life without asking.
What I wore. Where I went. Who I talked to.
What I ate." My throat tightens. "And every single time, he told me it was for my own good.
That he knew better. That he was protecting me. "
"I'm not—" He stops. Drags a hand through his hair. "Fuck."
"I know you're not him," I repeat, softer now. "But you have to understand. When someone makes choices about your life without asking, even with good intentions... it feels the same. It feels like you don't trust me to handle my own problems."
"I trust you."
"Then act like it."
The muscle in his jaw ticks. Once. Twice.
"What else?" I ask.
He goes very still. "What?"
"What else did you do that has to do with my life without telling me?"
The pause is answer enough.
My stomach drops. "Nico."
"The debt." His voice is flat. Controlled. "To the Russians. I paid it."
"When?" The word scrapes out of my throat.
Nico doesn't look away. "Almost immediately. The day after you agreed to stay."
The room tilts. I grab the edge of his dresser to steady myself.
The day after.
That was days ago. Days of believing the Russians were still out there.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"The situation was complicated—"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
He runs a hand over his jaw. "There were security concerns. The shell companies needed time to process. I wanted to make sure the transaction was—"
"Bullshit." I step closer, my voice rising. "That's bullshit and you know it. Why. Didn't. You. Tell. Me?"
he mask he wears, the one that makes him look carved from stone, it splinters.
"Because you would have left." His voice rises to match mine. "Because the second you knew the Russians weren't looking for you anymore, you would have taken Lily and walked out that door and I would have lost you."
The words echo off the walls. Raw. Desperate.
"I couldn't—" He stops. Drags in a breath. When he speaks again, his voice is rough. Broken. "I couldn't lose you, Kristen. I wanted you here. With me. I wanted to wake up and know you were in the next room. I wanted to watch Lily feed those damn rabbits every morning. I wanted—"
He breaks off. Turns away.
My eyes burn. Tears spill down my cheeks, hot and fast.
"You kept me here under false pretenses." My voice shakes. "You let me think I was trapped when I wasn't. You made me believe I had no options so I'd stay with you."
"Yes."
No defense. No excuse. Just that single word, heavy with truth.
"I'm a monster." He says it quietly, still facing the window.
"I've done things you can't imagine. Hurt people.
Killed people. And I told myself I'd never drag someone innocent into this life.
" A bitter laugh escapes him. "But then you walked in with your singing and your fierce little girl and your goddamn goodness, and I. .. I couldn't let you go."
He turns back to me. His dark eyes are hollow. Haunted.
"Maybe this is how I love." The words sound like they're being ripped out of him. "Maybe I don't know how to do it without caging the thing I want. Maybe I'm too broken to—"
"Stop." I hold up my hand. "Just... stop."
Silence falls between us. Heavy. Suffocating.
I think about the past few weeks. The way he looked at me. The soft moments in the dark. All of it tainted now by this truth—he built our relationship on a lie.
Jack lied to control me.
Nico lied to keep me.
Different motivations. Same result.
"I hate you." The words come out steady. Cold. "I hate you for manipulating me. For making me think I was choosing you when you'd already taken my choices away."
His jaw tightens. He doesn't argue. Doesn't defend himself.
Somehow, that makes it worse.
"You talk about Jack like he's a monster," I continue, my voice cracking. "But at least he was honest about what he was doing. He wanted to own me and he made that clear. You?" I shake my head. "You made me think I was falling for you freely. You made me believe this was my choice."
"Kristen—"
"No." I step back. Then another step. Putting distance between us. "I can't look at you right now."
I turn toward the door. My hand finds the handle.
The handle turns under my palm.
I step into the hallway. Wait for his footsteps behind me. Wait for him to follow, to argue, to try and stop me the way Jack always did.
Nothing.
Just silence stretching out behind me.
I make it three steps before the tears blur my vision completely. I press my hand against the wall, force myself to keep walking. One foot in front of the other. Past the expensive artwork and the marble floors and all the beautiful things that couldn't hide what this place really was.
A cage.
A prettier one than Jack's apartment. A kinder jailer than my ex-husband.
But a cage all the same.