“You always have women,” he says desperately, shaking. “More than one man needs?—”
“That’s where you fucked up.”
I lean in.
“She is not women. She is mine.”
And that’s the last thing I say before I make an example of the three of them.
Quick, brutal, necessary.
The one speaking goes down first. A quick slice to his carotid.
The next one begs, but his pleas fall on deaf ears.
He bleeds a lot when I plunge the blade into his gut and slice.
They don’t understand.
None of them do.
But they will.
Cecilia is precious.
She is mine.
And their job is to protect what’s mine when I’m not there.
The last one. The motherfucker with the lewd comments who grabbed his dick while watching my woman? He is bigger. And I can see hate gleaming in his eyes. So I give him a chance.
“Go on, strike.” I tell him.
His gaze flicks to the other man. Former comrades who all glare at him because they know he crossed the line. And like me, they know he has to die.
“Ahh,” he screams and attacks.
All my men are trained well. Didn’t Sigma International Security see to that?
The thing is I trained too. And I’m faster than this asshole.
I hit him in the groin. He falls to his knees. I hit him again in the face. Blood spurts from his nose.
“P-please, sir,” he begs.
And I grab his hair, pulling his head back.
“What was it you said about her before grabbing your dick on the beach?” I ask.
He whimpers. I give his head a shake. He gasps.
“I, I said, this one is thicker than the others, but I bet she’d look good riding my cock,” he grunts.
And my vision doesn’t turn red. This time, it turns black.
I grab his face. Look into his fear filled eyes. And then I twist.
Snap.
