Page 252 of Hate to Love You

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Page 252 of Hate to Love You

“Abby, there are rules in place. And I have to maintain the respect of my men.”

“Well, shoot me then,” I shrug, crossing my arms. “If you want to follow your precious rules.”

“No.”

“Then, don’t talk to me like that. If you want to keep me, then treat me like you fucking want to keep me, Roman!”

I hold my ground, staring him down.

“You know what, you’re right. Your men do need to respect you. But they also need to see you, respecting me,” I growl at him. “If you want to quell the rumors, then they need to see you unafraid of me. And if you claim that I’m your queen, then treat me as such.”

My body is shaking but I know I need to say this.

I refuse to be about to be treated how I was by my ex-husband.

I will be treated how I deserve to be treated and won’t accept anything less.

He sighs, cocking his head to the side as he inspects me, his eyes roaming down my body before returning to my face.

“Okay, Abigail, okay.” He concedes, as he pulls me in for a hug, his arm wrapping round me. “I’m sorry.”

Holy shit.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he continues, pulling my body from his, his fingers tipping my chin up. “But, I think you need to remember, this is my city.”

I jerk myself from his hold, and walk backwards away from him, my head shaking.

“Then go back to your city then,” I state, turning to face him.

“Abigail. These are my men, they are loyal to me.”

“I get it.”

“No, you don’t, if you did you wouldn’t have intervened like that.”

“You keep saying you want to keep me,” I snap at him. “But I don’t think you understand what that actually means. Because if you did, you would ensure that I’m treated with respect by your men. And to do that, they need to see you doing it!”

Roman opens his mouth to say something but I don’t give him the opportunity.

“Let me make one thing clear, Roman. If you want to have me in your life, then you will give me the equality I need. Because if you think you’re going to treat me like a possession to flaunt, or some object wrapped in bubble wrap, then you may as well go over there and pick up that fucking gun,” I gesture toward it. “...And shoot me right here, right now.”

His eyes appraise me, taking in my words.

“Because, if you treat me like he did, that would be a fate worse than death.” I growl, raising my chin. “And maybe that would be my death, or maybe it would be yours, but either way, death will come for us.”

“Are you,” he says cautiously, narrowing his eyes at me. “Threatening me, Foxy?”

I shrug, smiling at him brightly.

“You might have demons, Roman Antonov, but so do I. And mine have claws.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

ROMAN

3:01am

The Witching Hour.




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