Page 129 of Devious Kingpin
My jaw clenched so tight, it made my temples throb. “Well, if he gets a woman, I’ll show him exactly how I operate,” I hissed.
And I meant it. This was a two-way street, motherfucker.
* * *
As if the universe heard my vengeful thoughts, from the corner of my eye, a vibrant red dress caught my attention.
As if in a daze, I watched a gorgeous blonde saunter her way through the bar and straight to Dante and Basilio. Neither man turned until the woman said something.
Slowly, like they were synchronized, the two men glanced over their shoulders. Basilio’s eyes lingered on the woman for a fraction of a second, before he turned back to his bourbon or whatever he was drinking.
I held my breath watching Dante. Whatever the woman said had him shaking his head. But she wasn’t leaving. Instead she leaned forward, giving my husband a glimpse of her generous cleavage. To Dante’s credit, he didn’t lower his gaze to it.
One point to Dante DiLustro, I thought wryly.
But then her hand came to his forearm, the red-painted nail skimming over his suit jacket
Oh, no she didn’t! Not my fucking husband.
A buzzing rang in my ears, high-pitched and piercing. A red mist coated the room, and before I realized what I was doing, I was by the bar, violating every personal-space rule imaginable.
My hand wrapped around her hair and pulled. Gasps traveled through the room but I ignored them. All my attention was on this bimbo hitting on my husband.
“Do you see his hand?” I asked in a hiss.
“What the fuck?” she screamed, trying to yank herself away from me. It only hurt her more, because I tightened my grip.
Her eyes darted to Dante, pleading for help. He didn’t move, that familiar smirk playing around his lips. Basilio, on the other hand, looked almost impressed. Instead of ignoring the bimbo, his attention was now fully on her and me.
“I asked you a question,” I hissed, yanking on her hair harder. Wearing a red Valentino dress, I looked plain next to her which pissed me off even more.
“W-what?” she whimpered.
“Do you see his fucking left hand?” I gritted.
“Yes.”
“What do you see?”
“Who is this fucking crazy bitch?” she cried.
“Watch it,” Dante warned, his tone quiet and dangerous. “That’s my wife you’re talking to.”
Her expression shattered. I didn’t care. Something about the way Dante said “my wife” had my chest warming up in an unreasonable way.
“Focus on me, bitch,” I drawled, still gripping her hair. “What do you see on his hand?”
Her eyes studied Dante’s hands frantically. “A-a ring?”
My lips curved into a sarcastic smile. “That’s right. A ring. Which means he’s married.” Her eyes darted to Basilio and I yanked her attention back my way once again. “He’s married too.” I leaned closer to her, our faces so close I could see her pores. “If I see your filthy fucking fingers anywhere near my husband again, I’m gonna cut them clean off, then shove them up your ass.”
I released her without warning and straightened up. I fought the urge to shove her, but instead I stood between her and Dante. Wynter would have to protect her own husband from greedy, unwelcome hands.
Her eyes darted to my husband and that made me want to smash her face against the bar. But I didn’t. Maybe because I had a better handle on my temper than I thought. Or maybe because Dante’s hand came to my ass, and strangely enough, I found it calming.
The woman wobbled away, her face pale and her eyes frantic.
I turned to look at my devious husband and found him grinning like a little boy on Christmas morning. The man acted like I had just given him the best gift ever.
