3

Vivienne’s POV

Before the man could swing at me again, Nyssa snatched a fork from the table and pressed it to his throat.

“I’ve already called my boyfriend,” she said, her voice steady. “If you knew his name, you wouldn’t dare touch me or my friend.”

The man froze. So did I.

Panic curled in my stomach. Kael could not see me here with her. If he did, he’d think I was plotting something. He would never believe I’d simply had dinner with Nyssa.

“Hey, Nyssa—” I started.

A cold voice cut through the noise behind me. “What happened, babe?”

Kael.

He was here in under five minutes.

“This man insulted me—and my friend,” Nyssa said, pointing at the old man.

The man’s face drained of color the second he saw Kael. Everyone in New York knew his name—not just for his casino and the dirt it ran on, but for the long list of crimes tied to him that had never stuck. He had the best lawyer money could buy.

“It was all a misunderstanding, sir—” the man stammered.

“Is that so?” Kael stepped forward, gripping him by the throat, then throwing him hard to the ground. He kicked him twice in the gut—calculated, brutal. Then he turned to one of his bodyguards.

“Take this scum to the back alley. Make sure he learns his lesson. No blood. Internal injuries only.”

Ever-perfect Kael—clean, efficient. The same way he’d dealt with me and my mother in my past life.

“Babe,” he said, turning back to Nyssa, “let my bodyguard take you to my car. I need to have a word with the restaurant manager.”

“But my friend—”

“Come on, be good. I’ll take care of your friend for you.” He patted her head like she was a child, then glanced at me—a sharp, silent warning.

Nyssa left, smiling at me as she went.

The second she was gone, Kael turned back. His eyes went glacial. “How did you know about Nyssa?”

“What do you mean, ‘know about Nyssa’?” I kept my voice even, but we both knew the truth. I hadn’t flinched when he called her babe.

He read me in an instant. He always had.

“What were you trying to do—taking her out to dinner?” he pressed.

“I wasn’t trying to do anything. What can I do, Kael? Eat? In a public restaurant?” My patience snapped, my mask slipping.

“Oh, there’s plenty you could do. Drug her. Nyssa is fragile. Humiliate her. Did you tell her about our marriage?” His voice sharpened. “I warned you, Nyssa is—”

“Please. If I wanted her to know, she would’ve known the first time we met.”

I searched his face, desperate for some trace of the man I’d once loved. But all I found was distance. Coldness.

Before the tension could climb higher, one of Kael’s guards rushed in, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

Kael’s expression shifted instantly. “Hooker?”

He waved the guard away, then turned back to me, his voice like a blade. “You’re selling my Nyssa to that old man?”

Selling Nyssa?

Wait—what?

“I—”

Before I could finish, Kael’s hand cracked across my face. The sting exploded through my cheek before I even processed the sound. Then his fist twisted into my hair, jerking my head back until I was staring up into his cold, furious eyes.

“How dare you, Vivienne,” he snarled. “How dare you do this to the girl I love?”

I thought I was numb. I thought I was ready to face him again. But the fear from my last life was still there—coiled deep in my bones. My knees weakened. My eyes burned. My entire body was trembling.

Kael saw me and chuckled. “Drama much? I remember you being tougher than this. A few threats and you’re already shaking?”

“Edison,” Kael turned, calling his guard over without looking away from me, “take Mrs. Throne to my favorite club. If she wants to make someone else a whore, she can start by being one herself.”

Edison hesitated for half a second, confusion flickering in his eyes, but obeyed. He yanked me to my feet, dragged me outside, and shoved me into the car.

The drive was short. Too short.

When we stepped inside, the club reeked of sweat, liquor, and cheap perfume. Naked women gyrated under strobe lights. Men pawed at them like they were nothing.

“A new one?” a man whistled from a booth. “She for sale?”

“Yes,” Edison said without pause. “One hundred for the night.”

The man stood, tossed a bill onto the table, and clamped a hand around my wrist. In one brutal tug, he dragged me into his lap.

Edison turned his back and walked out of the club. Before he disappeared, I caught the look in his eyes—pity, confusion, maybe even guilt—but not enough to reach for me. Not enough to save me.

The man wasted no time. His hands were everywhere, greedy and rough.

I could have cried, but the tears had dried on the drive here. I’d forgotten how to scream. Screaming would only make it real.

Vivienne Thorne. Wife of Kael Thorne—in two lifetimes. And in both, I was destroyed by him.

He hadn’t even let me explain. He’d only looked at me like I was a monster that might harm his precious baby.

I pitied myself then, pitied the hollow wreck I had become. What had I done to deserve this?

I fought, but it didn’t matter. His palm was big enough, strong enough, to pin both of my wrists. His body intent on shaming mine.

“Stop!” The sharp voice cracked across the room like a whip. “If you so much as touch her again, I’ll blow your brains out.”