“How the fuck do you know my wife?” I growl as I stalk toward him, letting him see the rage in my eyes.
The guy freezes and recognition dawns on his face.
It seems he knows who I am.
“I asked you a question.” I take another step toward him.
The apartment is more of a studio, which means there isn’t much room for this guy to escape me.
He holds up his hands as the color drains from his face. “I’m Max. Mila’s brother.”
For some reason, I see red at this extra information. If this guy really is Mila’s brother, it means he has history with Ciara. Perhaps they dated back in the day, or were even still seeing each other when I forced her into marrying me.
Whichever one it is, I don’t care to find out.
All I care about is sending him a message.
Before Max can even react, my fist connects with his jaw, and his head snaps to the side as blood starts pouring from his lip.
“Fucking hell?—”
I land another punch, this time to his stomach, and Max doubles over.
I only intended on threatening the guy, but the sight of his blood, mixed with the dull ache in my knuckles, only fuels my adrenaline.
“Do you think you can sneak around with my wife without me finding out?” I growl as I land another punch to his stomach, which sends Max to his knees, groaning.
“I didn’t. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“You tell me.” I grab him by the collar and haul him to his feet before slamming him against the wall, knocking the air from his lungs. “What did you two talk about? What are you hiding?”
“She came to me for help, you psycho! Nothing happened!”
My knuckles collide with his cheekbone, and the skin splits, causing more blood to pour down his face.
“Stay the hell away from her,” I snarl, my face barely an inch from his. “If you even so much aslookat my wife again, I’ll make sure you disappear. Do I make myself clear?”
Max’s head sags as a deep groan spills from his lips, but he manages a faint nod.
“Good.” I throw him to the floor.
He’s barely conscious, with blood gushing from his nose and lips and his cheekbone already turning purple, but I think I’ve made my point.
I leave him there on the floor and slam the door behind me.
The driveback to Washington Heights only gives me time to stew in my rage. By the time I walk through the front door, my skin feels like it’s on fire, and my cock aches with the need to be inside Ciara.
I didn’t think I was particularly territorial, but the thought of another man so much as looking at her makes me see red.
I find her in my office, sitting behind my desk and typing away on her laptop, a frown between her eyebrows.
When I enter, her eyes flick up to meet mine, and something flashes behind them.
Guilt.
She gets to her feet and walks to me. “Ronan, I have something to tell yo?—”
I take her face in my hands and crush my lips to hers in a punishing kiss, forcing my tongue into her mouth and stroking it against hers.
