Page 163 of What's Left of Us

Ignoring her, I veer right down the hall to the same conference room where I met Luca before.

His secretary is hot on my heels. “Mr. Danforth, he’s in a meeting right now. You can’t go in—”

I don’t pay her any attention as I throw open the door and find the man I’m looking for standing in front of blueprints that he’s presenting to a group of men who stare as I round the table.

Luca straightens as my right hook meets his jaw. He goes down, and a string of startled cusses and gasps fill the room as they watch him fall on his ass, taking the prints down with him.

I tower over him, half-tempted to punch him again. Maybe even throw my foot back and land a hit to the ribcage. But he looks too pathetic sitting there on the floor.

It wouldn’t be a fair fight.

“Keep your mouth and your hands off my wife,” I growl at him, feeling the burning gazes of our audience piercing my back.

Quietly, I hear a feminine voice say, “We need security at—”

“No,” Luca calls out. “Don’t call security, Lyla. I can handle this myself.”

He rubs his jaw and cracks his neck before standing, unafraid to stand mere inches away from me when he reaches full height. “The problem with men like you is that you don’t know what you have, so you take advantage of it. You’re lucky that my mouth is the only thing that touched her.”

Somebody clears their throat on the opposite end of the room, but that doesn’t stop the current exchange. “And what about men like you? Are you really trying to tell me that you’d cherish her? If she wanted that, she would have chosen you to begin with.”

It’s Lyla who says, “Mr. Carbone, I can get him escorted out if you’d—”

He raises a hand to silence her. “Detective, I have no doubt in my mind that she would have chosen me if she’d given it a chance. You just wish you could say the same. It may be your ring on her finger, but that doesn’t make her yours. If it did, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Teeth grinding, I take another step toward him and force myself to stop. He wants a reaction. He wants me to hit him again.

So, I won’t.

“Georgia has a mind of her own,” he tells me as if I don’t already know that. “There are things that neither one of us would be okay with her doing. But she always does what she thinks is best.”

And he thinks that’s him? “You’re a far cry from the best option.”

“I’m not talking about me, Danforth.”

I don’t let him feed me more bullshit, so I back away, turning to the people watching us. “Sorry to interrupt your meeting.”

All they do is stare as I walk out, brushing past the wide-eyed secretary as I make my hasty exit.

It may be your ring on her finger, but that doesn’t make her yours.

When I slam the truck door behind me, I stare down at my swollen knuckles. Clenching them, I back out of the spot I haphazardly parked in and try calling Georgia.

It goes to voicemail immediately three times.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Lincoln/ Two Years Ago

Conklin gapes atme. “You punched him in the face?” he asks, watching Marissa pass me a frozen bag of vegetables to put on my hand.

“He kissed her.”

He puts more Goldfish crackers onto the plate for Cooper. “She said that she kissed him.”

I don’t know if I believe that though. “He had it coming.”

“And if he decided to press charges?” my friend counters with raised brows.

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