---- Chapter 2 Ivy Farley POV: The word hung in the frozen air, a command and a death sentence. My men moved as one, a seamless unit of loyalty and violence | had cultivated for years. Holden' s body tensed, his hand instinctively going to the small of his back where he always kept his gun. "Ivy, don't," he warned, his voice a low growl. The calm strategist was gone, replaced by the cornered animal | knew from our youth. But | was past listening to warnings. Trust in him had been a mountain, solid and immovable for two decades. In a single afternoon, he had leveled it to dust. He tried to step towards me, his hand outstretched. "Let's just talk." | flinched back as if his touch would burn me. "Don't you dare put your hands on me," | hissed. "Not after they've been all over her." The girl, Kaela, whimpered behind him, her big, brown eyes swimming with tears. She looked terrified, a fawn caught in the crosshairs. It was a good act. ---- "We are done, Holden," | said, the words tasting like acid. "This, us, the empire-it's over. | want a divorce." He actually had the audacity to look shocked. "A divorce? Ivy, be reasonable." "Reasonable?" A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "You want reasonable?" | pulled my own weapon from the holster hidden inside my coat. The cold metal was a familiar comfort in my hand. | didn't aim it at him. | aimed it at her. "Reasonable is me putting a bullet in your little whore for disrespecting my family's memory." The air crackled with tension. My men had their weapons drawn, a standoff at the gates of our ruined sanctuary. Kaela let out a small, choked sob. "Get out of the way, Holden," | ordered. He didn't move. He became a wall of muscle and fury, shielding her completely. "You'll have to go through me." "Don't tempt me." | squeezed the trigger. The shot was deafening in the winter quiet. It didn't hit her. | wasn't trying to. The bullet slammed into the wooden doorframe just inches from her head, sending splinters flying. Kaela screamed, a raw, piercing sound that set my teeth on edge. She collapsed against Holden, her body shaking ---- uncontrollably. And in that moment, he moved. Faster than I' d seen him move in years. He crossed the space between us in two long strides, his hand clamping down on my wrist, forcing my arm down. The strength in his grip was immense, unforgiving. Pain shot up my arm, sharp and electric. "Enough," he gritted out, his face inches from mine. His eyes, the same dark eyes that used to look at me with adoration, were now cold, hard chips of obsidian. The pressure on my wrist was crushing, the bones grinding together. | saw the scar on his back in my mind's eye, the one he got for me. This hand, the one now causing me so much pain, was the same hand that had pulled me from the wreckage of our old life, time and time again. A single, hot tear escaped my eye and traced a path down my cold cheek. | wasn't crying from the pain in my arm, but from the unbearable agony in my chest. Seeing that tear, something in him faltered. His grip loosened for a fraction of a second. It was all the opening | needed. | wasn't the girl he needed to protect anymore. | was a queen. | twisted my body, using his own momentum against him, and brought my knee up hard into his stomach. He grunted, stumbling back, his hand flying off my wrist. My arm hung at a useless angle, my wrist screaming in ---- protest, but my gaze was locked on him. He straightened up, his breath coming in ragged gasps, but he didn't look angry. He looked... concerned. "Your wrist," he said, taking a step towards me. "Let me see it." He reached for me again, that old, ingrained habit of wanting to fix my hurts. The same way he' d clean and bandage my cuts when we were kids, his touch so careful, so gentle. "Get away from me," | snarled, backing away. He stopped, his hand hovering in the air between us. "Ivy, you're hurt." "You hurt me," | shot back. "This," | gestured with my good hand to my throbbing wrist, "is nothing. This can be fixed. What you did in there," | nodded towards the cabin, "that can't ever be fixed." The finality in my voice seemed to hit him. The concern in his eyes was replaced by a familiar, weary resignation. He knew me. He knew when | had drawn a line that could never be un- drawn. | looked past him, at the girl who was now sobbing into her hands on the porch. Then | looked back at him, at the man who was my whole world. "It's over, Holden," | whispered, the words feeling like they were being ripped from my soul. | turned my back on him, on the cabin, on the twenty years we had built together. | walked ---- towards my car, my every step an act of sheer will. My right-hand man, Leo, opened the door for me. His face was grim. "Boss?" he asked, his voice low. "Take me home," | said, my voice cracking on the last word. As the car pulled away, | looked in the rearview mirror. Holden was still standing there, watching me go. He hadn't moved to stop me. He was letting me leave. And in his arms, he was cradling the weeping girl, comforting her. He had made his choice.