Page 58 of Pure Vengeance

“My wife, my rules.” Lachlan shrugged, and I was glad I couldn’t see the smirk that probably decorated his too-handsome face. “I thought you might want to say hello.”

“I don’t talk to animals; much less useless little sluts like her.”

“Dad?” I lifted my mitted hand to touch his knee, but he pulled back his leg to kick me.

“Don’t touch me, bitch.”

Dante bared his teeth and growled, obviously sensing my intent. I lowered my head before I let the word I’d practiced leave my lips on the faintest breath of a whisper, audible only to my one friend who didn’t deserve what would happen to him. I’d live with the guilt forever.

Lachlan

Before Steve’s booted foot could connect with Natasha’s face, Dante lunged for his throat.

“No!” His eyes widening with fear, Steve threw up an arm, but there was no stopping almost two hundred pounds of trained guard dog. Steve had just enough time for one last terrified scream before the sound cut off with a wet gurgle.

Despite years of training and impeccable obedience, Dante killed Steve without his cue word. He didn’t make a sound. I heard not a single growl or snarl as he took my greatest enemy to the floor and tore out his throat.

Steve passed from this world almost as quickly. It seemed the devil already had a place for him in hell, but I had to admit to some disappointment. I’d planned to let him spend years thinking about what I’d done to Natasha.

Except… Judging by the things he said, Steve was happy to see Natasha on her knees. Aside from that, he would have hurt her badly if Dante hadn’t stopped him. His reaction didn’t make sense at all. Hadn’t he loved her?

His muzzle and chest covered in blood, Dante returned to his position next to Natasha and sat on his haunches—the perfect picture of canine submission—and also without his cue to stand down. I’d been too shocked to say it, and Dante hadn’t given me time.

Natasha didn’t move. She kept her head bowed and her hands on her thighs while my men silently waited for my reaction.

None of them were sorry to see Steve Ashland dead, but as usual, Natasha’s inexplicable behavior irritated the fuck out of me. Saoirse didn’t say a word either, but her hands shook as she poured herself another cocktail.

Why wasn’t Natasha crying? Her father was dead, so there should have been tears. For that matter, why wasn’t she cowering away from Dante?

“Don’t worry about the mess,” Finn said, drawing my attention from my perplexing wife. “We’ll get it cleaned up and arrange trash disposal.”

“Thanks.”

Finn hesitated and glanced at Dante. “I know he’s your favorite, but he attacked without his cue. We can have the vet out to put him down in the morning.”

There it was.

If I hadn’t been looking at her, I’d have missed the muscles tightening in her back. She hadn’t moved a goddamned inch over her father’s death, but Finn’s suggestion to have Dante destroyed made her react.

And why the fuck was I seeing the knobs of her spine? Considering I trained her every day, I wasn’t sure how I’d managed to miss the absence of her soft curves, but she was all hard edges and angles, with wiry muscle under silken skin.

“I’ll take it under advisement.” I snapped my fingers and crouched to pick up her leash. Before she could get to her hands and knees, I pulled her to her feet and wrapped my hand around her wrist. “We’re going home.”

Something was off about this whole situation, and I couldn’t abide not having the whole story.

I let her maintain her silence, and her spot at my feet in the footwell, until we got home. Dante was safely muzzled in the front seat with my driver.

There would be plenty of time to get the answers I wanted. I laid my hand on the back of her neck as I thought of all the ways I’d extract information from her.

My town car slowed and stopped close to the steps leading up to my house. When my driver opened the door, I said, “Take Dante to the kennel. I’ll deal with him in the morning.”

Natasha flinched under my touch, but I let her reaction slide without commenting. When she turned to follow my driver to the kennels, I tugged her leash and guided her into the house.

And still, she said not a word.

Malicious compliance, thy name is Natasha Ashland O’Donnell.

She could give a fucking masterclass.

---