Page 69 of Abandoned By My Alpha Husband

"And Anya doesn't need you either." She continued. "I've raised her for five years. She doesn't know you. Doesn't need to know you."

I reached for her. She pulled back. My hand hung in the air.

"Please." I heard the begging in my voice. "Elena, at least let me see her. Let me—"

"She doesn't need a father who threw her mother away." Elena opened the door. "We're leaving."

"Elena!"

She was already out. I watched her walk back to the restaurant, back straight, not looking back.

My hands gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles went white.

Marcus glanced at me in the rear view mirror. Said nothing.

"Have someone follow her." My voice tight. "Don't let her notice. I need to know where she's staying."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

I took a deep breath and got out.

Inside the restaurant, Elena held Anya's hand, heading out. Liam followed. Anya looked up at her, saying something softly. Elena bent and lifted her.

Liam saw me. His expression went cold.

"Liam," I called him.

He glanced at Elena. She nodded. Liam bit his lip, then walked over.

"Go home," I said.

"I don't want to."

"Liam—"

"I want to go with her." He looked at me, eyes red. "I want to stay with my mother."

My heart clenched.

"Liam, you're Hale's heir. You can't—"

"I don't care!" His voice rose. "I don't care about any of it! I just want to be with my mother!"

People stared. I breathed in and pushed down the surge of emotion.

"Liam, go home." My voice went cold, dropped to a warning. "That's an order."

He looked at me and wiped his tears roughly. But he turned and followed me to the car.

At the car, he looked back. Elena stood at the restaurant entrance, holding Anya, watching us. Her eyes full of sadness and longing—for Liam. Because when our gazes met, hers went cold. She turned away.

Our daughter, Anya, rested her head on Elena's shoulder. She looked at me curiously. My lips moved. I watched them disappear around the corner, fingers clenching tighter.

Liam got in, pressed against the door, face to the window. Expressionless but clearly holding something back.

I sat in the back and breathed in deeply.

"Marcus, drive." My usual cold tone returned.