Let her go.”

“This whole thing is your fault,” Victor spat at him.

“All of it.

Five years, and you still couldn’t keep your nose out of what was mine.”

“It’s your fault,” Marcus said, evenly, “because you’re a thief and a coward.

That’s the whole story.

It always was.”

And I felt, standing in my husband’s grip with his blade at my throat, the very last of my fear drain out of me and leave something cold and clear and absolutely steady in its place.