“He has nothing now.”
“That’s not my problem.” His jaw hardened. “All things considered, you should thank me for the mercy I showed him,” he said in a vicious undertone.
“If you think destroying a man’s livelihood and everything he’s ever worked for is being merciful, you have a warped sense of what exactly mercy is.”
“I took his business, but I could have done much worse. I could have destroyed him and everything he knows. No one comes between me and what’s mine.” His face had darkened into possessive anger. “Now he knows better.”
“I’m not yours.”
“You are mine. You see this?” He showed her the back of his hand, bringing attention to his platinum wedding ring. “I take my vows seriously. You’re mine, and I’m yours. You don’t get to walk away on a whim.”
Daniella took a good look at her husband—the stubborn set of his jaw, the way his eyes met hers in challenge. More than ever, it became clear she fought a losing battle. The draining power of defeat seeped into her limbs.
“You’re never going to stop, are you?” she asked quietly.
“You’re my wife, Dani. It’s time that you come home.”
She took a deep breath, loathe to give in, but the never-ending fight with him was taking a toll on her bank account and her sanity.
Time to end the standoff.
Bracing herself, she looked her husband squarely in the eyes. “Okay.”
He stilled. “Okay what?”
“I’ll do my best to give you a child.”
For the first time ever, Daniella saw Cyrus speechless. He clearly couldn’t believe she had caved even though he’d done everything in his power to ensure she did. His eyes probed her face, searching for any sign of trickery.
“Do you understand what that means?” he asked.
She nodded. “I do. After I…have the baby, you’ll give me a divorce?”
His face remained expressionless. “Yes.”
Daniella nodded her acceptance of his terms and took out her smartphone. She tapped the calendar app and launched into a matter-of-fact conversation about the particulars.
“The best chance for fertilization is when I’m ovulating, of course,” she said in an unemotional voice. She had to disassociate herself from the idea or she’d never go through with it. “We can both keep track of the dates and times. My next menstrual cycle is—”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Cyrus came to his feet and stared across the desk at her as if she’d lost her mind. His eyebrows dipped over his eyes. “Fertilization?” He said the word as if he’d never heard it before.
“Yes,” Daniella said with a tight smile. “That’s what the sperm does to the egg so a child can grow inside of me. Surely they taught you all about it in the expensive private school your parents paid for you to attend…?”
“I know what fertilization is,” Cyrus said slowly, wrestling with impatience. “But that’s not exactly the word I would use to describe what we’re about to do.”
Daniella shrugged one shoulder. “Fine, procreation. Better? It really doesn’t matter what we call it. We’re making a baby.” She bent her head to her calendar again. “I’ll talk to my doctor about the options available for us to reproduce.”
“The options available—” Cyrus ran his hand down the back of his head, as if he couldn’t even let himself finish repeating the words. Pinching his nose, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, she didn’t like the determined look in them. “There seems to be some kind of misunderstanding.” He spoke in a deliberate, slow voice. The tone disturbed her and sent a frisson of unease down her spine “You’re my wife. We’re having a child.”