Searching for something to justify the conclusion he had already drawn.
“If Violet loses that child because of this,” he said at last, his voice low, and lethal.
“I will make sure you never conceive. I’ll see to it that a surgeon removes your uterus so you can never carry a child—not in this lifetime, not ever again.”
The threat landed deep.
Not just in my ears. But in my chest.
In my ribs. Between my thoughts.
Like a blade driven straight into something vital.
For a moment—the world narrowed.
His hand was still at my throat.
But the pressure no longer mattered.
It was the words.
The intention behind them.
That cut.
Then—he released me.
But his eyes—they stayed on me.
Burning. Cold. Violent.
Like he wanted to tear me apart with his bare hands.
Then—without another word—he turned.
And walked out.
The door slammed behind him with enough force that the frame rattled violently.
Silence rushed back in to fill the space he left behind.
I stood there for a second.
Unmoving.
Breathing shallow.
My throat still remembered the pressure.
But it wasn’t the physical pain that caught up to me.
It was something deeper.
A twisting ache that clawed its way up from my chest until it settled behind my ribs.
This was the same man who had been inside me last night.
Who had kissed me like I was something he couldn’t afford to lose.
