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Chapter Three

Author: Ivy Vane
last update Last Updated: 2026-01-04 17:06:39

Minah did not sleep when she got home.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the hospital room. Ava’s pale face. Antonio’s rigid posture beside the bed. The way his presence filled space without sound. She had spent years learning how to manage men who tried to control her through volume and intimidation.

Antonio did neither.

That unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

By the time she returned to the hospital the next morning, the energy had shifted. Nurses whispered in clusters. Security lingered longer than usual near one wing. Minah did not need to ask why.

Antonio had not left.

She found him seated beside Ava’s bed, jacket folded neatly on the chair, his attention entirely on his daughter. Ava was awake now, her leg elevated in a cast, color slowly returning to her cheeks.

“You came back,” Antonio said without looking up.

“I said I would,” Minah replied.

Ava smiled faintly. “She is the nice doctor.”

Minah smiled back, checking vitals, testing responsiveness, watching carefully for signs of worsening concussion. Ava answered slowly but clearly. Everything was stable.

“She is improving,” Minah said. “Still needs monitoring, but she is responding well.”

Antonio’s shoulders eased just enough to be noticeable.

“You stayed overnight,” Minah observed.

“Yes.”

“You did not sleep.”

“No.”

She hesitated, then said quietly, “You should.”

His mouth tightened. “When she is safe.”

A nurse stepped in with paperwork. Minah reviewed it while Antonio stood silently nearby. Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

She ignored it.

It vibrated again.

Antonio glanced at her. “That will not stop.”

Minah pulled the phone out. Coffee’s name lit the screen.

She declined the call.

“Someone you do not want to answer,” Antonio said.

“Yes.”

“Then block him.”

Her lips pressed together. “It is not that simple.”

Before he could respond, the phone vibrated again. This time, a message appeared.

You’re avoiding me.

Minah’s chest tightened. She turned the screen face down.

Antonio watched her carefully. “Is he persistent.”

“He is my husband,” she corrected. “For now.”

“Was,” Antonio said. “If he left.”

Minah exhaled. “He wants to make sure I sign the papers. On his timeline.”

Antonio’s gaze sharpened. “And will you.”

“When it benefits me,” she said evenly.

The phone vibrated again.

I’m always watching you, Minah.

Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.

Her fingers curled around the device.

Antonio stood slowly. “He enjoys reminding you he exists.”

She met his gaze. “He enjoys control.”

“That is not control,” Antonio said. “That is obsession.”

Minah stiffened. “You do not know him.”

“I know men,” Antonio replied. “And I know what that message means.”

She said nothing.

Ava shifted slightly. Antonio’s focus snapped back to her instantly, his hand smoothing over her hair.

“I want her discharged as soon as possible,” he said.

“That will not be today,” Minah replied. “Observation is necessary.”

His eyes flicked to her. “You do not bend.”

“Neither do you,” she said. “That does not mean one of us has to break.”

Something almost like approval crossed his face.

Later, Minah stepped into the hallway to breathe. She leaned against the wall, phone in hand. Another message appeared.

I know where you are.

Sign the papers.

This ends when I say it ends.

Her pulse thudded in her ears.

She turned.

Antonio stood at the end of the hallway, watching her. Not intruding. Not interrupting. Simply there.

“You should not answer him,” he said.

“I didn’t.”

“You should not be alone,” he added.

“I am not,” Minah replied, lifting her chin.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Not yet.”

She studied his face. The control. The restraint. The promise of violence held carefully in check.

“For men like him,” Antonio continued, “words are weapons. When they stop working, they escalate.”

“And what about men like you,” Minah asked quietly.

He held her gaze. “We finish what we start.”

A chill ran through her.

For the first time, Minah understood something clearly.

Coffee was watching her.

But Antonio was already calculating.

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  • The Cost Of Surrender    Chapter 20

    Coffee POV They think I didn’t know. That’s the part that almost makes me laugh. I sit alone in my office long after everyone else has gone, the city spread out beneath me like something I built with my own hands. Glass. Steel. Light. Order. Proof. I replay the conversation again, not because I need clarity, but because repetition sharpens truth. She wasn’t alone. Antonio’s men stepped in immediately. Protected. The word irritates me. Minah doesn’t need protection. She needs remembering. I lift the glass and take a slow drink, letting the burn settle. Whiskey is grounding. It reminds me that control still exists, even when people pretend it doesn’t. She let him come to her home. That’s what matters. Not the men. Not the guards. Him. Antonio. A brute dressed in refinement. A man who built power on fear and blood and thinks that makes him something to admire. I scoff at the idea of him even belonging in the same space as her. Men like that don’t understand Mi

  • The Cost Of Surrender    Chapter 21

    Coffee POV The problem with men like Antonio is that they mistake intimidation for intelligence. I know his type. Built on violence. Sustained by fear. He believes proximity equals power, that standing in a doorway makes him significant. That guarding a woman makes her loyal. It’s almost charming in its simplicity. I straighten my cuffs and glance at my reflection in the glass. Composed. Unshaken. Men like him rage when they feel threatened. I calculate. That’s why I always win in the end. Emotion clouds judgment. Structure clarifies it. She’ll come back. Not because she wants to. Because reality will corner her. I know Minah better than anyone ever will. I know how she doubts herself late at night. How she second guesses her strength when things get quiet. How safety scares her almost as much as pain does, because safety asks her to trust. And trust was always mine. The thought of her with him returns again, sharper this time. Antonio’s hands where mine once were

  • The Cost Of Surrender    Chapter 21

    Coffee POV The problem with men like Antonio is that they mistake intimidation for intelligence. I know his type. Built on violence. Sustained by fear. He believes proximity equals power, that standing in a doorway makes him significant. That guarding a woman makes her loyal. It’s almost charming in its simplicity. I straighten my cuffs and glance at my reflection in the glass. Composed. Unshaken. Men like him rage when they feel threatened. I calculate. That’s why I always win in the end. Emotion clouds judgment. Structure clarifies it. She’ll come back. Not because she wants to. Because reality will corner her. I know Minah better than anyone ever will. I know how she doubts herself late at night. How she second guesses her strength when things get quiet. How safety scares her almost as much as pain does, because safety asks her to trust. And trust was always mine. The thought of her with him returns again, sharper this time. Antonio’s hands where mine once were

  • The Cost Of Surrender    Chapter 19

    Coffee POV They think I didn’t know. That’s the part that almost makes me laugh. I sit alone in my office long after everyone else has gone, the city spread out beneath me like something I built with my own hands. Glass. Steel. Light. Order. Proof. I replay the conversation again, not because I need clarity, but because repetition sharpens truth. She wasn’t alone. Antonio’s men stepped in immediately. Protected. The word irritates me. Minah doesn’t need protection. She needs remembering. I lift the glass and take a slow drink, letting the burn settle. Whiskey is grounding. It reminds me that control still exists, even when people pretend it doesn’t. She let him come to her home. That’s what matters. Not the men. Not the guards. Him. Antonio. A brute dressed in refinement. A man who built power on fear and blood and thinks that makes him something to admire. I scoff at the idea of him even belonging in the same space as her. Men like that don’t understand Minah. They cons

  • The Cost Of Surrender    Chapter 18

    The man stood just inside the office door, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles had gone pale. Coffee didn’t look up from the screen in front of him. “Talk,” he said calmly. The man swallowed. “She wasn’t alone.” Coffee’s fingers paused on the glass in his hand. “Explain.” “I approached her like you asked,” the man continued, voice tight. “Parking structure. I barely touched her wrist.” That got Coffee’s attention. He leaned back slightly, eyes lifting. “Barely.” “I didn’t hurt her,” the man said quickly. “I didn’t get the chance.” Coffee’s jaw tightened. “Why.” “There were men,” he said. “Three of them. Maybe four. They moved in immediately. Professional. Quiet. They didn’t shout. They didn’t threaten. They just… removed me.” Coffee stared at him. “They told me to walk away,” the man added. “Said she was protected.” Silence stretched. “Protected,” Coffee repeated softly. “Yes.” Coffee stood and crossed to the bar without another word. He poured himself a glass of whisk

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    They don’t touch. The realization settles between them like an unspoken agreement, heavy but respected. The air is still charged, desire humming quietly beneath the surface, but neither of them crosses the line. Not tonight. Minah exhales slowly and sinks onto the couch, exhaustion finally winning. Antonio takes the chair across from her instead of sitting beside her, giving her space without retreating. “I didn’t always know it was abuse,” she says after a long pause. Her voice is calm, but her hands twist together in her lap. Antonio doesn’t interrupt. “At first, it was just… control,” she continues. “Who I talked to. How late I worked. How I dressed. He framed it as concern. As love.” Her mouth curves into something that isn’t a smile. “I’m a doctor. I thought I was too smart to miss it.” Antonio’s jaw tightens, a quiet shift she doesn’t notice. “He’d apologize afterward,” she says. “Always beautifully. Always convincingly. And when I stopped fighting back, he s

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