Alyssa
Marina's presence in the room feels like a heavy weight. Her confident stride and the sharp click of her heels are constant reminders of how out of depth I feel. Marina exudes composure, as if nothing can shake her. I can't help but wonder if she can see right through the mask I'm desperately trying to hold onto—whether she knows about the anxiety twisting my insides.
As she arranges her files, her eyes sweep the room, landing on Niko briefly, then Mason, before they settle back on me. There's a certain intensity to the way she looks at me, like she's already dissected me in her mind. It's fucking unnerving, but I refuse to let it show.
Adjusting her tailored blazer, she crosses her legs with practiced poise. "Niko, be a dear and make me some tea, will you?" Her tone is polite but firm.
"Sure," Niko mutters, disappearing back into the kitchen.
Damn. She definitely has a dominant personality. I can already see why King wouldn't get along with her. So, what the hell was Christine talking about? Probably just trying to piss me off, like I originally thought.
Marina turns back to me, pulling a sleek leather binder onto her lap. "Let's get started. Isaac's next move is likely already in motion, and I have no intention of letting him get away with any of this."
I nod, my voice barely above a whisper. "Okay."
Before Marina can continue, King strides into the room, filling it with his usual commanding presence. Dressed in a black cut-off and jeans, his hair falls loosely around his shoulders. My breath hitches. Holy shit. He never wears it down like that. The way his lips twitch into a smirk tells me he knows exactly what he's doing.
But why is he doing it?
Without a word, he crosses the room, scoops me up effortlessly, and settles me onto his lap. His arms wrap securely around my waist, his touch grounding me even as Marina lets out an audible sigh of mild irritation.
Maybe she was flirting with Gray yesterday, but there is absolutely no sexual tension between her and King. Unless I'm missing something....
"King," she says, arching a single, unimpressed brow.
"Marina," he replies smoothly, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Haven't seen you in a while. It’s a miracle you’re staying out of trouble for once."
King's hand brushes over my stomach, his fingers lingering in a way that makes my heart flutter. "Just keeping it quiet for her."
Her gaze shifts to my stomach before returning to him. "Does Isaac know she's pregnant yet?"
"No," he grunts.
"Good. Keep it that way. They don't need any more motives."
I don't need to ask to know what she means. When Isaac is finally dealt with, all fingers will point to King, and they'll already have a long list of reasons for why he'd be the one to do it.
Niko reappears, setting a steaming cup of tea and a plate of breakfast on the coffee table. He plants a quick kiss on my forehead. "Eat slow, okay?" he murmurs before retreating to the kitchen with Zuri in his arms.
Marina watches the exchange with a raised eyebrow but says nothing, refocusing on her binder. "Alyssa, do you have your copy of the summons?"
I reach for the document on the end table, handing it to her. She skims it quickly, her pen tapping against her notepad. "You have thirty days to respond. That means we need to act fast. The court will want to see evidence that there’s no reason to remove Zuri from your care.”
I nod again, the reality of the situation hitting me like a ton of bricks. "What do I need to do?"
"First, we need to establish your role as Zuri's primary caregiver," Marina says, her tone straight-to-the-point. "Photos, receipts, medical records—anything that shows you've been there for her day in and day out. Do you have access to those?" She pauses, her pen poised above her notepad, waiting for my response.
I nod. "Yes. I took everything when I escaped."
"Good." Her pen moves quickly across the page. "Next, what do you know about Isaac's finances? Assets, property, income?"
I chew on my lip, hesitant. "Umm, well first off, I'm not a gold digger."
Isaac accused me of that plenty of times—not that it was ever true. I didn't give a damn about his money.
Marina snorts. "Noted."
"I honestly didn't know he had an inheritance or just how wealthy his parents were until after we got married. Like they're old money rich."
Dirty money from who knows where.
Her brow arches. "An inheritance?"
I nod, forcing the words out. "A million dollars."
Marina takes a slow sip of her tea, her expression thoughtful. "Interesting. And the inheritance came with a marriage stipulation?"
"Yes. But I never touched it. I had my own job until he made me quit after I got pregnant."
Her lips press into a thin line. "And he provided living expenses?"
"Three hundred dollars a week."
Marina scoffs. "What the fuck is that? I spend twice that just walking out my front door."
I bet. Her shoes look more expensive than my entire wardrobe.
I shrug. "I made it work. It was just enough to take care of me and Zuri."
King's touch remains a steady anchor, even for himself. I can feel the rage radiating from him, but his hand continues to gently caress my belly.
"And how was his relationship with Zuri?" Marina asks.
I sigh deeply, knowing how foolish I'm about to sound for staying with him so long. "He didn't want anything to do with her, even though he gave me no choice but to have her. Never changed a diaper. Never went to an appointment. Every time she cried around him, he'd threaten to 'shut her up' if I didn't stop her. The first time he said that, I had to start sleeping in front of her door to protect her."
Marina's pen pauses, but her face is unreadable. I guess, at least she's not openly judging me.
"Were there any reports filed? Any records of his abuse?"
I shake my head. "No. H-He checked my phone every day. He controlled everything."
"Fuck," she mutters under her breath. "This complicates our case."
I wrack my brain for anything that could be useful. "Umm, I did go to the police once...a long time ago, but they didn't really do anything."
Her eyes narrow. "Tell me exactly what happened."
I take a shaky breath, trying to keep my voice steady. "I called the police once and went to the station with them. A young female officer took pictures. I had two black eyes, a busted lip, and bruises on my ribs. Then the chief walked in and told me Isaac was on his way. For a second, I thought maybe he was coming to turn himself in." Tears gather in my eyes, but I quickly blink them away. "But when Isaac got there, he slapped me so hard I hit the wall. The other officers just laughed. The woman looked like she wanted to help, but she couldn't. Isaac handed the chief a wad of cash, like he was paying for goddamn coffee, and they let him drag me out. I screamed. Begged. So loud I thought someone would step in. No one did."
King's entire body stiffens beneath me, his hand tightening around my waist. The grinding of his teeth rumbles deep in his chest—each grind a promise of violence. I glance up, meeting Mason's searing gaze, while Niko stands frozen in the doorway, his face twisted in fury.
When Marina sets her pen down, her gaze softens—just for a second—before she looks back at me. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. That's...absolutely horrifying. All of it."
I laugh nervously, the sound hollow. "Um, it's okay. My fault for actually expecting them to do something. It's like asking your closeted gay husband to locate your g-spot."
I cringe internally. Why the fuck did I say that?
She clicks her tongue against her teeth. "Humor is your defense mechanism. We'll work on that."
"Do you remember the date and precinct? Maybe we can get that officer to talk."
"I do, but what if it puts her in danger?" I ask, chewing on my lip again.
Marina's tone sharpens. "I'll ensure it doesn't put her in harm's way. But we are getting Isaac, Alyssa. No matter what."
Marina's intensity seems to have a ripple effect across the room. My men are silent, the weight of my story settling uncomfortably. My pulse thuds in my ears as King's hand tightens around my waist, his steady strength keeping me from spiraling.
"Okay," Marina says after a moment, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "We'll need a statement from you, Alyssa. A written affidavit detailing the abuse. Every incident you can remember."
I freeze, my chest tightening. Telling that one story was hard enough, each word opening wounds that had scarred over. But writing it all down? Putting my pain on paper for others to dissect and judge? Shit. Just the thought makes my stomach churn. I'm not sure I'm strong enough.
King's lips brush my temple as if he can read my mind. "You don't have to do it alone, kitten. Remember, we've got you. All of us."
Marina gives a curt nod. "We'll also need corroborating witnesses, if possible. Friends, neighbors—anyone who saw or heard anything."
"I...I don't know," I admit, my voice smaller than I'd like. "Isaac was careful. He made sure no one outside his circle knew he was a monster."
"What about the videos?" Mason cuts in, his jaw tight with anger. "We could use them as leverage, get those people to turn against him."
Marina smirks faintly, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Legally, I can't advise you to do that. But when have you guys ever followed the rules?" Then, her expression shifts, her gaze landing firmly on King. "King, you absolutely cannot go anywhere near his house, workplace—nothing. Well, none of you should do that, but especially not you."
"Fine," King grunts in acknowledgement, but the tension rolling off him makes it clear he's not happy about it.
Marina checks her watch, already switching gears. "I'll begin drafting the paperwork tonight. Alyssa, I need you to start working on your statement and gather those documents we talked about. Can you do that?"
I swallow hard and nod. "Okay."
"Good. I'll be in touch within the next few days." She stands, gathering her files. Her heels click against the floor as she heads towards the door, pausing at the threshold to glance back. A small, reassuring smile softens her features. "And Alyssa?"
"Yes?" My voice wavers just slightly.
"Don't underestimate yourself. You've already survived the worst, and you're going to survive this too."
Before I can respond, she leaves, the door clicking shut behind her, but her words linger long after she's gone.