There’s not a judge or jury on earth who’d convict me for murder at this point. They’d take one look at this overbearing, obsessive, control-freak man and hand me a fucking medal.
I’ve been patient. I’ve done as I was told.
I haven’t thrown a tantrum, even though I’m a heart beat from full body meltdown.
But I’m done.
My stomach rolls, and not just from the baby. My sweater is too tight around my throat and my skin feels wrong.
My phone buzzes again.
Jensen:
You look upset. Are you okay?
I freeze then slowly, mechanically, I lift my eyes to the small black circle mounted in the corner of the gallery ceiling. He’s watching me through the live feed. Of course he is. Normally, that makes me feel safe, loved and cherished in a ridiculous over-the-top way only Jensen can give me.
But right now, it feels like a boot on my neck. Like he’s pressing down gently, sweetly, until I can’t breathe anymore.
Juno walks up to the desk holding a stack of prints. “Do you want these on the—” She stops, her brows drawing together. “Mia?”
“I can’t do this.” I hate that my voice wobbles. That I sound exactly what Jensen thinks I am—fragile. Weak. Breakable.
“Oh, honey, what’s going on?”
My eyes dart to Theo, who’s watching me, then to Mike. He’s poised, ready to follow if I so much as twitch.
I close my eyes, dragging in a stuttering lung full of air that feels too thin. My phone buzzes again. I don’t need to look to know who it is.
I stand, and the chair scrapes across the floor loud and sharp. Mike moves on instinct, ready to protect, to do his job, but I don’t want a guard. I want space, freedom.
“Don’t.” My voice is quiet, but cracks with a deadly snap.
He freezes, glancing at Theo. He’s watching me like he sees the danger crackling beneath my skin.
I shouldn’t feel this shaky or this furious, but my anger is locked around something far more frightening—suffocating panic.
“I just need—” I suck in a breath, but it lodges in my throat. I can’t find the strength to pull in another as my phone rings.
“Mrs. Rivers,” Mike tries.
I hold up a hand. “Just… leave me alone for five fucking minutes. I’m done being watched, tracked, or fucking analyzed.”
Theo stands now, his eyes softening, like he knows I’m too far gone. Reason and logic have left the building.
“Mia?” Juno whispers, but I hear the sympathy, the worry, and it makes my gut tighten.
“I just need five minutes,” I whisper, desperate for someone to hear me.
She stares at me for a beat, then nods. “Then take it.”
I step back from the desk. Mike shifts toward me. It’s not fair, but I turn on him, my eyes blazing. “If you move another step, I swear I’ll scream.”
He hesitates, torn between protocol and my instruction. “Mrs. Rivers, if you need to go somewhere, we’ll accompany you.”
I laugh, but it’s not warm. “Why don’t you just put me in shackles and drag me wherever you want?”
“Mia,” Theo says my name gently, like he’s afraid I might spook. “What do you need?”
