We’re eating steak and all I have is a fucking plastic knife to cut it with.
I glare at my husband, and he looks at me so innocently that if it weren’t for the smile he’s biting back, I’d believe he was unaware of the situation.
“Is there a problem?” He says loud enough, the whole table looks at me.
“No problem. Thank you for checking,husband,” I grip his leg that I stabbed under the table in a silent threat.
I scoot my chair away from him, wanting to put space between us. But he doesn’t let me get far before pulling me by my seat even closer to him than I was before. Even through the suit, I can see his huge bicep bulge as he moves me. He catches me staring and smirks.Damn him.
I ignore him and start on my vegetables. Once my plate is cleared except the slab of meat, I slowly pick up my plastic knife and get to work. I saw and saw and saw the steak, but it’s almost futile.
It takes me a full minute to cut one bite. By the time I’m on my third bite, I’ve given up.
“Give it back!” I demand under my breath.
“No,” he whispersback.
“Give it back, or I’ll fucking stab you with this one too!” I threaten.
“Steak seems to make you violent. It would be a hazard to give you anything sharp.” He pauses, then looks at me concerned. “Do you want me to help you?”
I eye him skeptically.
“I don’t want your help. I want my knife.” I don’t trust that caring look on his face. He’s up to something.
“Too bad.” He pulls my plate closer to him and starts cutting up my steak for me. I glare at him as he does it. I notice from the corner of my eye that we’ve caught some attention. Thankfully, it’s only Bash and Cecilia. Margot would definitely be asking questions.
Once a piece of my steak is cut, Dominic stabs it with his fork, and I hiss at him.
“Don’t fucking think about eating my steak!” I point my plastic knife at him, so he knows I’m serious.
“It’s for you,” he says lightly.
I stare at his fork in horror as he brings it to my lips. He’s out of his fucking mind if he thinks I’m letting him feed me in front of his family.
“Absolutely not!” I hiss.
“It’s the only way you’re eating this steak, doll.” He brings the fork closer to my mouth. I swat his hand away.
“Fuck you!” I stab him with the plastic knife, but it doesn’t penetrate his slacks. It must irritate the last wound though because he lets out a gasp.
He grabs my hand and stands so quickly his chair almost topples over. In a swift move, he pulls me up beside him.
“Excuse us. We’ll be back in a minute.” His stoic tone takes me by surprise. Somehow, he has that mask back in place for his family.
I take in their shocked expressions and smile assuredly. The last thing I need them to think is that I can’t hold my own against my husband.
He drags me out of the room and pushes me up against the wall before the door even slams shut.
“You got steak juice on my suit, tiger!” He sounds appalled at the state of his suit. I look down and see it’s only a few drops. I roll my eyes.
“Take it to the fucking dry cleaners, you misogynistic asshole!” I bite back at him.
He crowds me against the wall, arms on either side of my head, caging me in. It’s not often I feel small, but beneath this behemoth of a man, I do.
“You say a lot for a pretty little lady. What would daddy think?” He mocks me with the worst thing possible.
My vision reddens. How dare he bring Viktor into this! I reach into his jacket pocket and before he can react, I’m holding my steak knife against his neck.
