He Forgot Our Sacrifices, I Took Back Mine

Chapter 2

Dylan's pupils snapped tight.

My words seemed to yank him back to his senses. His gaze dropped to the angry red marks wrapping around my wrist, and a flicker of regret flashed in his eyes.

When he spoke again, his voice was rough and gravelly, raw enough to scrape skin.

"Someone get this dog's corpse out of here," he ordered. "Feed it to the chickens."

"Anything that makes my wife unhappy does not deserve to live," he added.

Sia jumped at his harsh bark, yanking her hand back timidly and stepping aside to let his men drag the dead dog away. She bit her lip to hold back tears, and Dylan's eyes went red with heartache.

I could not be bothered to watch them put on their little show. I grabbed my cane and turned to leave.

This bad leg came from when Dylan was ambushed years ago. I charged straight into enemy territory to save him, carried him on my back, and ran for seven straight days and nights. A bullet tore right through my knee, and I had been disabled ever since.

The night we finally escaped, he whispered in my ear, "Lena, you are the bravest woman I have ever met."

Normally, Dylan would hurry after me to help me walk. But this time, he just stood rooted to the spot right next to Sia.

By the time I got back to my villa, a thin layer of sweat had broken out all over my body.

Later that evening, the housekeeper stormed up to my room, fuming, to deliver the news.

"Madam," he said, "Mr. Marsh has given all the coastal properties you own to Sia. He knows full well those were left to you by your mother—"

I did not say a word. I just stared at the video Sia had sent me on my phone.

In the clip, they were all having a dinner party at the coastal villa. One of the men there suggested that Sia should marry into his family.

Even though Sia was our adopted daughter, we had always treated her like our own flesh and blood. We had already put her in charge of a chunk of our businesses anyway. And besides, I could not have children. There would never be a biological kid of mine to fight her for anything.

She turned the offer down flat right away.

"No way," she said. "This is not something to mess around with."

She smiled, her eyes locking straight on Dylan, and then suddenly leaned in and kissed him right on the cheek.

"I only love Dad," she said, so seriously too. "I am officially going to start courting Dad."

To the sound of everyone's cackling, she leaned in again, this time aiming for his lips.

I counted silently in my head. 'Three, two, one.'

Dylan did not pull away.

I swallowed back the bitter nausea crawling up my throat and locked my phone. I turned and told the housekeeper to arrange a car for Morrowdale, and to bring a small team of mercenaries with me.

The sky outside the window hung heavy and gray. My old knee injury started to throb, flaring back to life with a dull ache that never truly went away.

I ordered my men to hide and wait out of sight, and not to make a move until I gave the order.

By the time I arrived, they had only just started serving the food.

Sia was careless and took a bite of a piping-hot cube of fried cheese. The burn brought hot tears to her eyes instantly.

Without a second thought, Dylan held one of his palms up right in front of her. He cut straight to the point.

"Spit it out," he said.

Sia's eyes went wide as saucers, and she just stared blankly at him, frozen in place.

Dylan huffed a soft sigh, pried her lips open with two of his fingers, and dug that fresh-out-of-the-pan hot cheese straight out of her mouth.

I watched the whole thing play out, and my heart sank even lower than it already was.

Sia was probably the only woman on earth who could ever get him to go this far for her.

I shoved the dining room door open and fixed them both with an icy, unblinking glare.

The color drained straight from Dylan's face, and his voice came out shaky and unsteady.

"Lena, what are you doing here?" he asked. "Did I not arrange for a doctor to come give your leg a massage tonight?"

Sia, on the other hand, never once flinched from my gaze. She held my stare right back, bold and challenging.

That look in her eyes was exactly the same look I had had years ago, arrogant and fearless as a hunting falcon. No wonder Dylan was smitten with her.

"Mom," she said, "you should have given Dad to me a long time ago."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than a glint of cold steel came lashing out.