However, I want to set the record straight before I vanish, so I dig into my purse and pull out my phone.
I stare down at the screen and scroll until Kingston’s name stares back at me, bold and permanent, like a tattoo etched into my existence.
It rings once. Then cuts off, going straight to voicemail.
My heart clenches when it beeps and I have the opportunity to leave a message. So I do.
"Hey… it’s your wife," I say it like a sick joke. "I just wanted to tell you the truth. All of it. I never wanted to lie to you. I swear to God, Kingston. I mean… it’s no secret I hated you when I said my vows. You were everything I tried to get away from back home in Ireland.”
I pace the sidewalk and take another steadying breath.
"Truth is, you scare the hell out of me."
I pause, heart pounding as the voicemail records in the open air, my thumb trembling against the phone.
"Not because of what you are or the power you carry. You scare me because when I look at you, I don’t see a monster anymore. I see a man who’s never hurt me… a husband who tried. The guy I would pick a hundred times over if I ever had a choice."
My chest tightens, a lump forming in my throat.
"What I said to my ma… That wasn’t for me. That was for her to repeat to my da. That was strategy. Me trying to figure it out. But you need to hear the truth from me, not from anyone else."
I glance up at the hotel sign, then back down, like the words might be hiding somewhere on the sidewalk.
"I could never hurt you, Kingston. And I sure as hell won’t let anyone else."
The breath I drag in shakes and I hate how close I am to breaking.
"So yeah… this is me.Yourwife. Apologizing for not running straight to her husband the moment they gave me the order. I thought I could handle it. Thought I could protect you somehow. But I just made it worse."
My voice softens.
"I’m in love with you, Kingston Viacava. I guess that doesn’t matter to you anymore."
I take a breath, ready to end the message, when the hairs on the back of my neck rise and that old familiar prickle of awareness scurries over my scalp.
Someone’s watching me.
Glancing sideways, I notice a black town car idling at the curb, engine whispering beneath the city noise. The back door swings open and Roman steps out, his tailored coat flaring just slightly in the warm afternoon breeze.
I stagger back a step. “Why the hell won’t you leave me alone?”
He doesn’t smile like he used to. He just kills the space between us and clamps on to my arm.
“I’m done playing nice, Liv,” he murmurs, voice like a slow bleed of poison. “You’re coming with me.”
I jerk back, my pulse leaping. “No… No, I’m not. Tell my da I’m done being a puppet.”
A shadow moves across his expression as a ghost of a smile dances over his lips.
“This has nothing to do with him.” He leans in so close I catch the waft of his cologne. “You’ve always been mine. My little puppet. And I’ve been patient long enough.”
“Get your fucking hands off me!” I squirm against his grip.
Pedestrians glance our way, but no one stops to help me.
While I wrestle with him, Roman snatches the violin case from my shoulder.
“No—wait—don’t!”
