It’s this world. These men. They’re all awful. The best a girl can hope for is a less evil version of the men she grew up around.
Doing my best to calm down and regain control of my emotions, I wipe the tears from my face and blow my nose. If I’m going to survive Cian, then I can’t let him get to me like this. I closed myself off to Matteo, I can do that same thing with my new husband. I guess I just wasn’t prepared for how similar they are: large men, scarred, with mean-spirited personalities. They’re both monsters.
I married my brother after all. Or at least a man close enough to resemble him in every way that matters.
At least it’s me who has to deal with him and not Elena. I’d never in a million years wish this man on my sweet, shy sister. He’d ruin her completely and enjoy every sick second of it.
But me? I’m ready for a fight. We can fight for the next sixty years for all I care. I’m prepared now. That Irishman will never get under my skin again.
I’m so focused on steeling myself against Cian, that when I walk out of the restroom I run right into a stranger’s chest.
“Excuse me,” I say to him, apologetically.
His large hands land on my shoulders to steady me or himself, I’m not sure. My skin prickles with the sensation. When I try to move past him, his grip tightens and my pulse picks up.
He glances over his shoulder, then at me. “Is that guy bothering you? You don’t look very happy to be having dinner with him.”
“I’m fine.” Crap, I really shouldn’t have created a scene earlier.
“Who is he?”
The words stick in my throat. With great effort, I utter them aloud, “He’s my husband.”
“Well he looks like a real piece of shit.” He keeps glancing over at Cian. The guy practically vibrates with aggressive energy, and I suspect he’s either drunk or on drugs. No sober man would think it’s a good idea to get wrapped up in my and Cian’s business.
“Thank you for your concern, sir, but we’re just fine.” I press past him, and he lets me go this time. I return to the table.
Unfortunately, the guy follows.
“Hey man, you’re not treating this lady very nicely. I think you should leave her alone now,” the man slurs.
When he drops his hand on my shoulder in front Cian, it’s obvious he has a death wish.
Cian slowly lifts his gaze to the man standing beside my chair. It lingers on the guy’s hand—which I try to shrug off—before continuing to his face.
I swear the room drops several degrees. I shiver.
“Remove your hand from my wife’s shoulder.” His voice conveys no emotion, yet it’s deadly at the same time.
“Nah, man, this girl is coming with me as soon as she dumps your ugly ass.”
I glare up at him. “I never said I’d go anywhere with you.”
“Shh, babe, let the men sort this out.”
I blink, twice.Wow. Just wow.
“Fine.” I cross my arms and settle into my chair. At this point, they can kill each other and I’d be happy with that outcome. There’s way too much testosterone at this table.
Cian’s frigid gaze drops to me and he scowls. “This is all your fault.”
I gasp. “Myfault? How is this my fault?”
“If you weren’t so pretty then you wouldn’t attract this kind of unwanted attention. Attention that I am now obligated to deal with.”
He thinks I’m pretty?
No. That can’t be my first thought. It’s absurd.
