The smile flickers for just a heartbeat before smoothing back into place like oil over water.
"Semantics." He's closer now, maybe four feet away, and his eyes travel down my body with that slow, proprietary assessment I remember too well. Like he's checking inventory he's disappointed in.
"You've filled out. Motherhood suits you." The smile sharpens into something with edges. "Though I notice you haven't lost all the baby weight."
The words land the way they always did, wrapped in something that sounds almost like a compliment until you feel the knife sliding between your ribs.
Two nights ago, Cole made me look at myself in a mirror and told me I was beautiful. Traced every curve like it was something precious, something worthy of worship.
Now Adrian's gaze scrapes over the same body like it's something to critique and failed to meet his standards.
I keep my face neutral. I've had years of practice, years of courtrooms and hostile witnesses and men who thought they could rattle a judge with a well-placed sneer.
"The point is, I'd like to know my daughter."
Three feet now. I refuse to back up and give him that satisfaction.
"Shared custody. Very civilized. Summers in Salvencia, holidays here."
The floor drops out from under me.
No. No, no, no.
"You're not taking her anywhere."
"I'm not asking permission, cara."
The word slides out like oil, and my stomach twists.Cara.He used to call me that right before he hurt me. Whispered itin my ear while his hand closed around my wrist. Said it softly in the car that night, right before he jerked the wheel into oncoming traffic and laughed at the sound I made.
My vision grays at the edges. The room tilts.
"I'm informing you."
Two feet now. His cologne hits me, heavy and suffocating. The same scent that clung to my hospital gown almost a decade ago, when the doctors were still trying to stop my contractions, and I called my uncle from that narrow bed and saidI need out. He's going to kill us both.
"I have diplomatic resources you can't imagine." He's close enough now that I can smell his breath mint. "International courts that don't care about your uncle's... influence."
His eyes flick toward the door Cole is waiting behind.
"The bodyguard." Something ugly crawls into his smile. "I recognize the look. He's fucking you, isn't he?" He laughs softly, like we're sharing a private joke. "Does he know you're damaged goods? Or does he think he's special?"
The bookshelf presses into my back. I didn't even realize I was backing up, but now I'm trapped with law books digging into my shoulder blades.
Constitutional Law. Federal Procedure. Criminal Sentencing Guidelines. Volumes about justice and protection and rights, and none of them can help me now.
He reaches out with those manicured fingers, brushing my hair back, tucking a strand behind my ear like he has any right to touch me.
I flinch back hard enough that my head hits the shelf behind me. Pain sparks through my head, sharp and clarifying
His smile widens, feeding on my fear like it always did. "You're still so beautiful when you're scared."
Bile surges up my throat. My hands won't stop shaking. I've sentenced murderers without a tremor in my voice. I'vestared down cartel lawyers and corrupt politicians and men who promised to kill me if I ruled against them.
But him—
"Children are so resilient, you know." His voice drops into something intimate and poisonous, the voice he used to use in bed right before everything went wrong. "They forget things. She won't even miss you after a few summers with me."
Chesca.