“Nice decision, Arkon. You’re truly a man who understands the dynamic of being a King. My men will retreat once I cross the border. It was nice meeting you again, my dear friend,” my old husband drops the cigar on the floor and steps on it.

With a little head gesture, he orders his men to proceed with me. They roughly tug my arms, leading me to a car. They open the door of the backseat, tossing me right in. Two of the men sit beside me, slamming the doors shut.

My throat drags as my heart races in a mix of emotions - anger and fear. As much as...