Page 39 of Filthy Business
I sighed and looked him in the eye.
“I’ve been unhappy for decades. I remained faithful to my marriage—and for what? I’ve found someone warm, caring, smart, funny, and sexy as hell. I won’t let Iris slip away from me,” I asserted.
“Let me at least do a background check on her,” he said with a resigned look before clinking my empty glass and raising his own.“May your second marriage be your last, my friend.”
I smiled faintly and nodded to him. I was glad that he understood, because I doubted many people would.
“I guess I should get a round in to celebrate, but I’m still doing a background check on her,” he said, standing up.
He wasn’t gone long when I saw Jamieson place his hand on Iris’s. My eyes froze on their table, locked in on their hands. Iris yanked her hand away and scowled at Connor. I was already standing by the time she began reprimanding him.
She hadn’t finished by the time I reached over their table and yanked him by his shirt and tie, dragging him across the table. Glasses fell and smashed.
Much like my fist into his face.
Again and again.
Until blood smeared my knuckles.
His pretty young face wasn’t so pretty now.
“Holy fuck, Magnus. Why couldn’t you have waited for me? I could’ve gotten so many hits on my new TikTok account,” Benedict said from behind me.
I had no clue what he was talking about. When I dropped Jamieson, I ignored the whispers and stared at Iris.
Her eyes welled with tears, and my heart stopped. She was disgusted by my violence.
But then she sniffed—and gave me a quivering smile.
I held out my clean hand to her, and chairs scraped the floor as people moved out of the way.
“No one touches my fiancée,” I told them as Iris gripped my hand and stepped closer.
“This fucking guy,” Benedict muttered.
Chapter 17
Iris
I was ready to punch Connor in the face. He’d been hitting on me all night, but the unsolicited touch was my boiling point. Watching Daddy pound his face—punch after vicious punch—shoved everything from my past to the surface.
I’d never had a man protect me like that before.
I didn’t even realise I was crying until his friend passed Daddy a handkerchief.
“When did we get engaged?” I sniffled, clinging to him tighter as he wiped my cheeks.
“Tonight. But you weren’t home, so I accepted on your behalf,” he said, rocking me gently.
His friend snorted behind us.
“When he wakes up, tell him to see HR first thing on Monday regarding sexual harassment,” he told the rest of my team.
They remained wide-eyed, but I heard the chorus of,“Yes, Mr Trenham.”
“Come on, baby. Sit at our table for a bit, and I’ll introduce you to the most annoying man in the world,” he said, tugging me away.
I guess the cat was out of the bag—spectacularly. It was only a matter of time before the press got wind of it. I smiled into Daddy’s chest.
