Page 35 of Vito

He's bad news, especially when he's high on coke. And based on the pile of cocaine on the table, he's fucking wired.

He's breaking two of Eden's rules—doing drugs on the premises and manhandling her staff.

Meg is white-faced as Cutt refuses to let her off his lap. He reaches around to slide his hand up her shirt.

Damn idiot.

I suspect Ash doesn't care much for his cousin, but Cutt's father and the old boys in the MC would make waves if Ash outed him without just cause. Politics are alive and well in this world.

Cutt knows the rules, though; he's just an arrogant piece of shit.

Ambrose and two more security staff move to intervene and rescue Meg, but seeing Eden, they fall back. Since day one, Eden has shown that she can handle herself; she doesn't need a man or anyone else to fight her battles.

No one else moves to intervene. This is between her and Cutt; we don't pick sides here. Plus, this is Eden's place—she can enforce the rules and is well within her rights.

My cock swells even more. She handles everything like a badass boss bitch.

As soon as Eden reaches the table, she hits the bat on the table, making powder fly.

Someone turns down the music.

"Fucking bitch! That's hundreds of dollars' worth of coke," Cutt snarls and stands abruptly, making Meg fall to the floor.

Ambrose is there instantly, but only to help Meg off the floor and move her away, leaving Eden to deal with this how she wants.

Eden doesn't back down, even though Cutt's twitchy hand hovers over the knife in his belt. "Does this look like a betrothal or a trap house to you? Get the fuck out of my bar."

Cutt's fingers close over the hilt of his knife, but he has enough presence of mind not to draw.

Eden looks completely unconcerned as she sweeps the remaining coke off the table and drags her palm down his leather cut. "I said: Get. The.Fuck. Out of my bar."

Cutt's face is bright red, and his bloodshot eyes bore into Eden. He wipes his runny nose with the back of his hand. "Suck my dick, bitch."

She smiles, but it isn't a pleasant smile. It's malicious and filled with confidence and dominance; it's a smile meant to taunt your opponent. I know that smile—I use that same one while I torture my enemies.

If possible, my want for this woman increases another notch. My cock strains and fights against the zipper of my jeans as I watch her.

"What's your name, dickface?"

"Fuck you, bitch," Cutt snarls. Then, like the absolute dipshit fucker he is, he lunges for her.

Eden steps to the side and swings her bat, plowing him in the gut. As he hunches over, gasping and wheezing, she squeezes his jaw, forcing him to look up at her.

He rips his face from her grip. "This isn't neutral behavior, bitch," he gets out with stilted, struggling breaths. "You can't touch me—"

She shoves the end of her bat into his gut. "If I have to repeat my question, I can assure you, you won't like the consequences," she says calmly, the cold edge of threat in her tone. "I'll start with your kneecaps."

"Cutt," he snarls his name at her. "I got my road name because I like to cut people, and I'm going to fuckingcut you deep, bitch."

She shakes her head. "Goddamn idiot."

She pulls her phone from the back of her jeans pocket and dials, cocking her head to the side, still standing toe-to-toe withCutt. "Ash," she says, and Cutt stiffens. "Yeah, I have an asshole here who goes by the stupid-ass name of Cutt. He's touching my staff. Coke sitting on my table. Disrespect oozing…" she trails off, listening, and Cutt's smile blooms like he's victorious. Eden hands him the phone. "Your Prez wants a chat, dickface."

He pales as he listens to what Ash says. Then backs away from Eden, throwing the phone at her. "Bitch."

He and his friend, who had quickly distanced himself from the encounter, quickly leave.

Two staff members come to disinfect the table and vacuum up the coke. Eden immediately goes to Meg and quietly speaks with her, ensuring she's okay. Once she's certain of that, she goes back behind the bar, picking up the drink she had been making, her cool and emotionless expression in place.

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