I could not break free, so I gave up and stared blankly into the air.
In a voice only he and I could hear, I whispered, “It was you who said you would go to hell with me.”
At those words, Easton’s body went stiff.
The next day, Emma was gone without a trace. I went to see Easton at once and asked, “Where is she?”
He lowered his head, his voice heavy.
“Emma has already lost the child and carries nothing. We do not need to stain ourselves with another life or bring useless trouble.”
I remembered when a group of thugs mocked me as a shameless bastard, and Easton had broken their legs without pause, snapping their necks, his robe soaked in red.
So whether it was truly needless, or only that he could not bear it, he knew in his heart.
“Where is she really?” I asked again, my voice rising.
He stayed silent, and after a long pause, he finally said, “I will give you an answer.”
The bloodshot eyes he once had when standing for me seemed to overlap with this moment. I smashed everything in the hall to pieces.
My men searched for Emma, but Easton had hidden her too well and left no trace. That same night, his explanation arrived.