Page 125 of Ruined By Protection
"Get your fucking hands off me! Do you know who I am?" Elliott spits, voice strained to screeching.
I stand frozen, watching the scene unfold. This dominating force who crushed my spirit, who broke my body, who made me believe I was nothing—looks ridiculous now. Small. Pathetic.
Noah tightens his grip, making Elliott wince. "We know exactly who you are, Montgomery."
Elliott's eyes dart wildly between Matteo and me. "Hazel, what is this? Who are these men? Call the police!"
I almost laugh at the absurdity. For months I lived in fear of this man. I hid bruises, made excuses, and walked on eggshells trying not to trigger his rage. I believed him when he said no one would help me, that no one would believe me.
Yet here he is—squirming like a fish in Noah's grasp, face twisted in fear rather than the controlled rage I'd come to know.
"It's incredible," I say, a slight touch of venom I’m not proud of. "You're only brave when you're hurting women who can't fight back."
Elliott's expression shifts to fury. "You stupid bitch?—"
Matteo steps forward and smacks Elliott so hard his head reverberates. Then presses the barrel of his gun to Elliott's temple, silencing him instantly.
"Watch your mouth when you’re in the presence of a lady," Matteo warns, his voice deceptively calm. Elliott spits and a glob of blood lands on the white limestone entranceway.
Why did I never see it clearly until now? Elliott doesn't have real power—he only preys on those he perceives as weaker. When faced with men who don't fear him, who can match or exceed his strength, he crumples faster than an empty chip packet.
I move up the steps to Elliott, no longer afraid of his rage since he’s securely pinned by massive Noah. My hands have stopped shaking. My voice is level.
"I need one thing clear before we start," I say.
Elliott's eyes dart between me and Matteo, his impulse to put me in my place impeded by the two dominating enforcers. "Start? Start what?" His voice cracks. "What are these bastards planning to do to me?"
I almost pity him. Almost. Then I remember.
"I never missed you, Elliott." The truth feels like sweet revenge after years of lies. I really shouldn’t be enjoying this asmuch as I am. "I just hate you. So much more than you could possibly imagine."
His face contorts with helpless rage. "You ungrateful?—"
Matteo shoves the gun harder into Elliott's temple, cutting him off.
"And now it's time," I continue, stepping level with my husband, "for you to do something in exchange for me."
Elliott's eyes narrow. The businessman in him perks up at the word ‘exchange’—always looking for leverage, for a deal, for a free ride.
"What do you want?" he snarls.
I meet his gaze without flinching. The man who once made me tremble with a single look now seems ridiculously pathetic. His power over me has evaporated like morning dew in Texas heat.
"I want you to tell me where Melissa is," I say, getting up close in his face. "Her mother deserves to know."
Elliott's skin drains of color. For the first time genuine fear flashes in his eyes—not fear of physical pain, but fear of consequences. Fear of the truth.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he stammers, lacking any conviction.
“Your lies wouldn’t convince even the most bought-off judge,” I quietly inform him.
Matteo
I keep my gun pressed against Montgomery's skull, fighting the urge to pull the trigger right here. Every instinct screams to end this bastard now—for Hazel, for Melissa, for every woman he's hurt. My finger twitches on the trigger.
But I can't. Not yet. The plan demands patience.
"Move," I growl, shoving him forward with enough force to make him stumble. "We're going to your office."
