Page 101 of His Wild Attraction

She stood up, her back ramrod straight, and she walked out of the waiting room.

I stood frozen for a solid thirty seconds before I raced back to the conference room and slammed the door open.

Andres looked cool and calm, sitting back while Gary raged about being cheated and about how miserable he was going to make our lives, Sammy’s life, if Andres didn’t give in.

I couldn’t listen for another minute.

“Stop! STOP!” I shouted.

“Ellie, what is it?” Andres asked, leaning forward.

“His wife. She told m-me?—”

“Shut up, you stupid fat bitch!” Gary shouted, losing his composure.

I never saw him look like that. Not even when he hit me.

“I fucking warned you,” Andres growled.

Then I watched as my husband vaulted over the table, knocking Gary to the floor with one punch to the older man’s jaw.

But Andres didn’t stop there.

And because I had suddenly found a newfound thirst for violence where my ex was concerned, I closed the door.

Gary grunted. He begged. But Andres offered no quarter.

Eyes that I once thought wise and full of caring met mine, and I felt nothing.

Not even pity.

Which was why I did nothing to stop Andres from straddling his chest and pummeling him in the face with his fist.

Over and over again, he hit him. And with every punch, I felt a piece of guilt, a piece of control that I wasn’t even aware Gary still held over me, loosen its grip, and fly away into the ether.

With his fists, and his fury, Andres gave me something I didn’t even know I was missing.

Andres gave me freedom.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE ANDRES

Iknew Ellie was pissed.

And it made me feel so fucking bad.

But I didn’t have time to explain.

As soon as this was done, I would tell her everything. First, I needed to know if my intel was good.

“Look, Mr. Ramirez,” Gary sneered like the condescending prick he was. “I know what you are. I looked you up. You work for those goddamn Russian gangsters. Now, I just wanna tell you, you didn't have to marry my ex to get her company.”

“You mean my company. I own Maxwell Mining now.”

“So you said, but you see, I am Maxwell Mining. I’ve been the managing VP for the last six years. I'll tell you what, you give me controlling interest. You let me run the company. And I’ll let you raise my son,” he said smugly.

“You would give me Sammy for a piece of Maxwell Mining?” I asked, not sure I could hate that smug motherfucker anymore than I already did.

“Sure. Hell, I can always fight that fat bitch in court. Tell the whole world how unfit she is to raise a child. Running out on her husband. Taking him from his father’s loving arms. Letting him sleep in dirty shelters. What kind of mother does that? Oh, I will drag her through the mud,” he said, a stupid grin on his face.

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