“My wife.” The way he says it almost seems like a warning. She’s off-limits, and he’s going to make sure everyone is aware.
I give her a brief nod out of respect, but keep my attention on him. I don’t need to address her in any other way.
I reach into my jacket and pull out the card Caiden told me to give him.
“You know how this works.”
He takes it without hesitation.
“I know where you stay,” I continue evenly. “If I call, you answer. Same goes the other way.”
A quiet understanding passes between us.
“Understood,” he says, and that should be the end of it.
The favor delivered.
The connection established.
But something shifts in my peripheral vision.
Movement.
A flash of long blonde hair, and she’s walking with a quickness I’ve never seen Livy move with before.
And then I see that Ronan is following her, calling out to her, desperately asking her to stop and talk to him.
My attention snaps toward them automatically.
Motherfucking weasel.
I know he did something to her, because Livy’s always nice to him even when I can tell she doesn’t like being near the asshole.
She looks behind her and begins walking even faster when she sees that he’s not backing off. The protective instinct inside my chest explodes so violently it almost makes me dizzy.
I should wait.
I know I should.
Handling Ronan in public is sloppy, and sloppy draws attention. Attention is the last thing Livy needs right now. I had every intention of dealing with him later, privately.
Somewhere, no one would hear him scream.
Because I know he’ll scream, I’ll make sure of it. He knows I don’t want him hovering around her the way he does, if he didn’t know he wouldn’t run away like a little twit whenever he sees me.
I’m still holding myself back when he snaps, his nice guy mask slipping when he yells, “You don’t have to be a fucking bitch! I just want to talk to you!”
And something I’ve been tempering down inside me snaps.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
Kozlov probably says something else to me, but I don’t hear it.
I’m already zeroed in on this off-brand Ken doll.
Ronan barely has time to register what’s happening before I grab the front of his shirt and slam him back against the stone wall beside the walkway.
His eyes widen.
