Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
“Bella,” he said, too easy, too familiar, like he’d already crossed a line he didn’t recognize.
She answered him the way I expected, polite, controlled, giving him nothing to hold on to, but he didn’t take the hint. He leaned in, bracing a hand against the table, swallowing the space like I wasn’t already close enough to step in whenever I chose.
And when he reached out, barely touching her hair, that was enough to send me over the edge.
I ended the call with my father abruptly and made my way toward my wife. I didn’t rush or draw attention. A predator didn’t need to make a fucking scene. By the time I reached Lucia, I was already behind the bastard, close enough that he felt me before I spoke.
His shoulders tightened, and when he straightened and turned, I saw the exact moment it registered that he fucked up. I was a big man. Six foot four. Muscles stacked under my tattooed skin. An air of violence emanated from me.
And I made sure I let it show on my face. I had no problem slitting his throat for even looking at Lucia.
“She’s not for you,” I said, my voice low and even, carrying enough weight that he took a step back.
He straightened, trying to recover, trying to make it look like nothing had happened. “Mi scusi. Stavo solo parlando con lei,” he said, but the arrogance that had just surrounded him was already gone, replaced by something less certain. I'm sorry. I was only speaking with her.
I stepped closer, closing the remaining space until he had no choice but to lean back slightly. That was when I reached out, my hand closing around his throat, firm enough that he felt it, light enough that I didn’t need force to make the point.
“Hai finito di parlare,” I said quietly, my thumb pressing just enough against his throat to feel his pulse jump. “Sei venuto a mettere le mani su qualcosa che non è tuo. Adesso ti giri e te ne vai prima che peggiori le cose.” You’re done talking. You came over here, putting your hands on something that isn’t yours. Now, you turn around and walk away before you make things worse.
His breath caught, and I felt the shift in him, the moment confidence gave way to something tighter, sharper because he knew I’d snap his neck right here in front of everyone and not think anything of it.
“Touch my wife again and I’ll cut your hands off and feed them to you. She’s mine. Her body, her attention, her everything belongs to The Butcher. Breathe in her direction again and you die.” I leaned in even closer so that only he heard me, my voice dropping lower as I spoke. “Leave before I change my mind.”
The color drained from his face as he realized how bad this situation could turn for him.
“I’m going to let go now,” I continued, my tone steady, controlled. “You’re going to step back, apologize, and leave this square without looking at her again.”
He nodded immediately. I held him there for another second, just long enough for the understanding to sink in deeper than the words themselves, before releasing him and stepping back.
He didn’t hesitate. “Chiedo scusa,” he said once more and looked toward Lucia but averted his eyes, his hands up in surrender, his voice tight. Then he turned and walked off.
I watched him go until he disappeared down the street, then turned back to Lucia. My hand found hers, and I pulled her up and hugged her to my chest. My hand tunneled into her long black locks, and my nose pressed to her temple. I inhaled deeply, and even just the scent of her hair hardened my dick.
If she thought I overreacted, she didn’t say anything. Lucia was quickly realizing the type of man—husband—I was. I was possessive of what was mine. I’d never hurt her, never lie or cheat on her, but I wouldn’t hold back on making it known she was mine and only mine. No matter how barbaric it seemed.
“Let’s go,” I said quietly.
She moved with me without hesitation, her body closer now, tighter against mine as we walked away without looking back at the café. I felt the difference in her immediately, the way her breathing had changed and how she pressed to me, like she knew I was on a razor’s edge right now.
I ignored all the passersby who’d see the interaction, had seen how silently aggressive and how dangerous I’d become in that moment. They quickly looked away when I met their shock head-on.
We stayed in the village for a few more hours. I was silent as Lucia shopped, grabbed baked goods to take home to the staff, and even insisted on getting ingredients at a local market to cook dinner for me. I found myself smiling at how much I just enjoyed watching her.