I stay in the shadows, just long enough to hear her.
“It’s rare to find someone who knows that author,” she says, excitement brightening her eyes. “Everyone dismisses her as unrealistic, but her words—”
The man nods, holding the book in his palm. It feels like they’re sharing a special moment.
“I love this line,” he whispers softly and hands her the book, but I see how he intentionally brushes his hand against hers as he opens the book.
Something ugly spreads in my chest, and before I know it, I step forward.
Isabella sees me first. She freezes like a deer caught in headlights.
“Mr. Moretti,” the man stammers, bowing his head slightly.
I don’t acknowledge him yet. My gaze is locked on my wife, who looks like she’s realized the dangerous situation she’s in.
“Come here,” I say to her.
She hesitates. Only a second, but it’s enough to stoke the fire clawing through me. I pull her toward me. The man opens his mouth to speak, but words can’t save him now.
My free hand grabs him by his collar, and I slam him against the wall. “You touched her.” My voice is coated with pure, undiluted rage. “You dared put your filthy hands onmywife.”
The thought of ending him right here fills me with a dark, vicious satisfaction. My hands tighten over his throat as his gasp breaks into a strangled wheeze. I want to make sure he never gets the chance to look at her again.
“Dominic!” Isabella screams, scratching my arms with her nails. “Stop! Please… you’ll kill him.”
The man’s face is already darkening. He kicks uselessly, scrabbling at my wrist. With a snarl, I release him. He collapses into a heap on the floor, one hand gripping his throat as he coughs for air. His bloodshot eyes dart up before falling away.
“Next time you won’t be so lucky. Now get out of here!” I hiss.
He quickly scampers out, and my attention is solely focused on my wife. “Oh, you’ve broken so many rules, little wife,” I ground out, stepping closer. “And I’m going to enjoy your fucking screams.”
She looks at me like she finally understands what I am. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
Ignoring what she said, I bend and haul her over my shoulder. She lets out a gasp as my arm locks around the back of her thighs. Her fists pound against my back, but I don’t flinch. Instead, I deliver a sharp spank to her ass, and she stiffens.
I carry Isabella through the rear corridors, away from curious glances. By the time we reach the car, her breath is uneven.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I shove her inside and climb in after.
“Leave us,” I bark. The driver obeys quickly, shutting the door softly. The leather creaks as I grip her chin, forcing her eyes to mine. “What the fuck were you doing?” I growl.
Her lashes flutter, but her spine straightens, tits perched toward me. What a reckless, beautiful fool. My breathing evens slightly when she fists my wrist on her chin angrily.
“I was just talking,” she says through gritted teeth. “The real question is what the fuck were you doing?”
“He fucking touched you. You broke all my fucking rules.” My voice is laced with venom.
She scoffs, sharp and tense, “You could have killed Jeoffrey!”
Anger reignites in my veins, my fingers curling into a fist. The bastard even has a name.
“Don’t you dare mention his name,” I growl, barely restraining myself.
She finally forces her chin out of my grasp, her furrowed brows straightening in realization.
“Why?” She folds her arms below her tits, lips curling in scorn. “Scared that someone decent has a better chance than you?”
