252

252
Alaric’s POV
“I’m not dealing with this tonight,” I grumbled, walking past her and out of the room. I stormed to the kitchen to get something cold for myself.
“You will, Alaric. Answer my fucking question,” she snapped, coming after me.
“No. Okay? It’s not about Francesca’s mother. So drop the damn topic. And just know that I don’t want you around Alonso ever again,” I replied icily.
She scoffed, shooting me a look of disbelief. I leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter, arms folded across my chest, as Emilia paced back and forth in front of me.
“Do you even hear yourself, Alaric?” she demanded, spinning around to face me. “You can’t just decide to shut Alonso out forever. He’s my family.”
“Family doesn’t have you kidnapped,” I shot back, my voice low but sharp. “Family doesn’t manipulate and guilt-trip you into questioning your own choices.”
“That’s not the point,” she argued, her tone sounding more like desperation right now. “We can’t live like this-constantly at war with everyone who disagrees with you.”
I let out a bitter laugh, pushing off the counter. “This isn’t about people disagreeing with me, Emilia. This is about protecting you. Something Alonso clearly has no interest in doing.”
Her eyes flashed, and I could see the anger she was fighting so hard to control. “Protecting me doesn’t mean cutting me off from everyone who doesn’t bow to your authority!”
I took a step closer, lowering my voice to a measured calm that I knew would only infuriate her more. “It does when those people are a threat to you.”
She threw her hands up, exasperated. “A threat? Alaric, he invited us to dinner. He wasn’t hiding in the shadows with a gun!”
“Not this time,” I countered. “But you know as well as I do that Alonso doesn’t play fair. He hides his intentions behind polite words and fancy dinners, but his goal hasn’t changed. He wants you away from me, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”
Emilia’s mouth opened as if to argue, but she stopped herself, her shoulders slumping slightly. “You don’t trust him,” she said quietly.
“No, I don’t,” I replied, my voice firm. “And neither should you.”
Her gaze dropped to the floor, and for a moment, I thought I might have finally gotten through to her. But then she looked up, her eyes shining that that stubbornness that was pissing me the hell off right now.
“Alaric, I can’t keep doing this,” she said, her voice trembling but steady. “I can’t keep standing in the middle while you and Alonso tear each other apart.”
“You’re not in the middle,” I said, stepping closer. “You’re on my side. Or at least, you should be.”
“Should be?” she repeated with a scoff, her voice rising. “Do you even hear how controlling that sounds? I’m not a pawn in some game between you and Alonso.”
I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to snap back. “This isn’t a game, Emilia. This is your life we’re talking about. Our life.”
“And that’s exactly why we need to find a way to move forward,” she insisted. “We can’t keep living like this, Alaric. Always looking over our shoulders, waiting for the next battle.”
I let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through my hair. “You think I enjoy this? You think I want to spend every day wondering when Alonso will make his next move? I hate it as much as you do, but ignoring it won’t make it go away.”
Her eyes softened, and for a moment, I thought she might understand. But then she said the one thing I didn’t want to hear.
“Maybe he’s not planning his next move,” she said quietly. “Maybe he’s trying to fix things.”
I stared at her, disbelief coursing through me. “You can’t seriously believe that.”
“Why not?” she challenged, her voice rising again. “People can change, Alaric. Maybe Alonso regrets what happened. Maybe he’s trying to make amends.”
“Or maybe he’s trying to manipulate you again,” I snapped.
Her expression hardened, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. “Not everything is a manipulation, Alaric. Some people actually want to make things right.”
“Not him,” I said firmly. “Alonso doesn’t get to make things right. Not after what he’s done.”
“And what about you?” she shot back. “What about the things you’ve done? Do you think you don’t have any blood on your hands?”
Her words hit like a punch to the gut, but I refused to let it show. “This isn’t about me,” I said coldly.
“Maybe it should be,” she said, her voice quiet, but that didn’t make it sting any less. “Maybe you should take a look at yourself before you judge everyone else.”
I stared at her, my chest tightening with a mix of anger and hurt. “I’ve done what I had to do to protect you,” I said evenly.
“And Alonso hasn’t?” she challenged. “He may not have gone about it the right way, but everything he’s done, he’s done because he cares about me.”
I shook my head, my patience wearing thin. “There’s a difference between caring and controlling, Emilia. Alonso doesn’t care about you; he cares about controlling you. About keeping you under his thumb.”
“And you don’t?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her question felt like a challenge , and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. But then I shook my head, my face hardening.
“No,” I said firmly. “I don’t. What I care about is making sure you’re safe. And if that means keeping Alonso at arm’s length, then so be it.”
She sighed, her shoulders slumping as the fight drained out of her. “You can’t keep fighting everyone, Alaric,” she said softly.
“I’ll fight whoever I have to,” I said, my voice low but steady. “As long as it means you’re safe, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Her eyes met mine, and I could see the gears turning in her head. She wanted to believe in peace, in reconciliation, but I knew better. Alonso wasn’t the kind of man who gave up easily, and I wasn’t about to let my guard down.
“I know you think you’re doing the right thing,” she said after a long pause. “But sometimes, doing the right thing means letting go of the past.”
“Not when the past is still a threat,” I countered.
She sighed again, turning away from me. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to move forward like this,” she said quietly.
“We move forward by keeping Alonso out of our lives,” I said firmly. “It’s the only way.”
She didn’t respond, and I started to feel guilty for putting her in this position But I didn’t need her to agree with me. I knew what needed to be done, and I wasn’t about to let anyone, Alonso or Emilia, convince me otherwise.