The instant I’m close enough, I slam my fist into his gut, consciously not going for his face. I don’t want my niece and nephew seeing bruises on their good-for-nothing father.
I deliver another two punches that make him groan with pain, and when he drops to his knees in front of me, it takes a fuck ton of willpower to hold back so I don’t kill him.
“Why the fuck is my sick sister taking care of the kids and fixing dinner by herself while you’re in here being a lazy-as-fuck asshole?”
He grabs hold of the side of the desk and pulls himself up while wheezing, “She likes doing things by herself and says I just get in the way.”
I grab hold of the front of his shirt and haul his ass closer until I’m looming over him. “Get your ass to the fucking kitchen. I want it spotless by the time I’m done bathing your fucking children, or I will put a bullet between your eyes.”
He nods frantically and carefully extracts his shirt from my fist before running out of the office.
God help me.
I go back to the kitchen, and taking Talia from Valentina, I also grab Asher’s hand. When I head upstairs to the bathroom, Valentina is right behind me.
“What did you say to him?”
“Not your business,” I snap angrily. I stop in the doorway and level her with a look of warning. “Bring me the kids’ pajamas, and while I’m taking care of them, I want you to go shower. Wash your hair.”
Her chin begins to tremble again, and it has me leaning over and pressing a kiss to her way-too-warm forehead. “Go get cleaned up so you can eat. I’ll get you meds and hang around so you can rest.”
“Thank you.” Valentina spins around and hurries down the hallway.
“Uncle Christiano,” Asher tugs on my hand. “I’m hungry.”
“Food is on its way, little man.”
It takes fifteen minutes to bathe Talia and Asher, and when I have them dressed in their pjs, I take them to the living room and make them comfortable on the couch facing the TV.
“Can you put on Bluey?” my five-year-old nephew asks.
“Sure.” I switch on the TV and find the show. “Keep an eye on your sister.”
I’m given a cute grin that eases some of the tension in my body.
When I walk into the kitchen, I see Will eating some of the mashed potatoes Valentina was preparing when I got here. My hands clench into fists, and even though he’s cleaned up, my temper flares to hell and gone. I go straight for him, and he quickly drops the bowl and spoon before backpeddling all the way out the back door, while squealing, “I did what you said. I cleaned up!”
Once we’re outside, I slam the door shut so the little ones won’t hear, then growl, “Your fucking kids are hungry, and you’re eating?”
Before he can reply, I lay into him, delivering punch after punch until I’m sure I’ve cracked one of his ribs.
Standing fucking close to the pathetic asshole, I order, “Straighten up.”
He does his best, pained lines etched deep into his face.
“You’re going to go in there and pretend it doesn’t hurt. Get the plates and cutlery ready and pour everyone something to drink. When the food arrives, you will make sure your wife and kids eat before you put anything in your mouth. Got it?”
Looking like he’s about to piss himself, he nods.
When Will scurries back into the kitchen, I know I have to calm down before I kill him. I dig my phone out of my pocket, and going into the gallery, I look at photos of Sienna and screenshots I took of our chats when we were still dating.
It’s enough to take the sharp edge off my temper.
Hearing voices inside, I put the device away and open the door. Valentina and Will instantly stop talking when I step inside, and while the fucker hurries to carry out the instruction I gave him, my sister looks like she’s a second away from dropping dead.
“Take some medicine,” I tell her.
While she does as she’s told, Nico comes in and places the bags on the table.
