“You think this is how you’re supposed to treat people?” my voice sounded deadly calm. “It’s not nice to try and steal other people’s husbands.”
She gave Axel a bewildered look, as if asking him to intervene. To protect her.
Like it was his job.
It was too much. I picked up her glass of red wine and, without any hesitation, tossed it at her face.
“My god,” Giselle sputtered.
“Mila, what the hell are you doing?” Axel’s tone snapped cold.
I turned on him. “After I saw my necklace, I actually felt bad that I turned down your boring dinner with your stupid clients that don’t even exist.”
Giselle was trying to dab her face with her napkin.
It was Axel’s calm demeanor that pushed me over the edge. He sat there watching me intently, refusing to show me anything beneath his cool expression. For some reason, his lack of response enraged me. I grabbed the necklace around my neck and ripped it off, breaking it at the clasp. Then I slammed it down on the table.
“You are the worst husband in the world.”
I spun around and almost ran into a group of people. The hostess and four men stood behind me, waiting to join Axel and Giselle.
The clients.
I looked back at Axel. He looked like he wanted to murder me.
And then I bolted.
Oleg was just cominginto the restaurant from the parking lot when I charged out.
“What’s wrong?” He looked at me with surprise.
“You know, this was a bad idea,” I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him out into the pouring rain.
He tried to pull me back under the canopy. “Let me go get the car. I parked over three blocks away.”
“It’s fine.” I yanked on his arm. There was no way in hell I was going to stand like a sitting duck at the front entrance of the restaurant. “I need to get home.”
Axel must have drivenlike a bat out of hell, because his vehicle was already pulling into the driveway when I was letting myself into the house.
I raced inside and was halfway up the stairs when I heard the front door slam behind me with a tremendous bang.
“Mila,” Axel roared from the front entrance.
“Leave me alone,” I yelled back, as I dashed up the steps.
He moved like lightning, and by the time I was at the top step, so was he. He yanked me across the hallway and pinned me against the wall.
His face was soaking wet, and so was his hair. He looked like fury incarnate.
I wasn’t scared, not in the least. I was fascinated by the intensity and magnitude of the emotion he was feeling. All of it directed toward me.
It fired me up. Finally.
“What the hell was that, Mila?” His voice was cutting.
“You were dining alone with her.”
“We were waiting for our clients, for a dinner I invited you to.”
