It’s nowhere near enough.
I want to cave his entire skull in.
‘Rebekka is mine. You touch her—’ another punch ‘—you even look at her—’ another, harder ‘—I will fucking end you, in the most painful way possible.’
Anthony wheezes beneath me, blood bubbling from his split lip. He laughs then, like the fucking maniac he’s become. I can’t believe this is the same boy I used to play hide and seek with. What the fuck happened to him?
Was he always completely deranged?
Either way, he’s done it now.
I can’t let this go unpunished.
‘Nice to see you, old friend,’ he says sarcastically, his hands scrabbling uselessly at my chest, trying to push me off.
Pathetic.
He should’ve known better than to ever lay a hand on what’s mine.
‘We haven’t been friends for a long time,’ I spit.
‘I gathered that when you started fucking my wife,’ he growls.
‘You don’t deserve her. You never did. And now she’s with me.’ I grab his shirt, drag him a foot off the floor and then slam him back against the cold marble floor. The air whooshes from his chest.
He turns to Rebekka with a cruel smirk. ‘Have her. She’ll be worth nothing by the time I’ve finished with her. Remington Publishing will be mine. I will ruin her. And you.’
It’s my turn to laugh now. ‘That’s what you think. But Rebekka sold Remington Publishing about half an hour ago. She has nothing you can take. I own it now.’
His expression morphs into one of fury. Killian and James move towards us.
‘Rian—’ Killian snaps, placing one hand on my shoulder, hard enough to bruise. ‘Get her out of here. Now.’
James grabs Anthony with a look that says he’s not stopping until the bastard can’t stand. Killian’s boot connects with Anthony’s crotch. ‘I’ll happily rid the world of another rapist,’ he snarls. ‘It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last.’
I’m back with Rebekka in two strides. A red crescent blooms on her cheek where he must have struck her. I’m vibrating with fury. But she needs me now. My brothers will handle him.
Her mouth presses into a thin line. There’s blood, a fine dark smear at the corner. Her eyes are huge and wet and fixed on me like I’m the only solid thing left in the room.
‘You came.’
‘I told you I’d never let you down, sweetheart.’ I scoop her up without thinking. She folds into me, small and trembling. Her breath is hot and uneven against my neck. I can feel every sharp intake. Every tiny shake.
‘I’ve got you,’ I tell her, voice raw. ‘I’ve got you. I’m not letting go.’
She buries her face in my chest and exhales a ragged sob. That sound is a blade through me. I hold her harder, closer still until the room blurs and there’s nothing but the press of her against me and the taste of iron on my tongue from the fight.
Behind us, the sounds of the scuffle die down into curses and the sick slap of bodies on marble. Killian’s voice cuts back through. ‘Go Rian, we’ve got this.’
Anthony’s face is a grotesque mask of blood and humiliation. Killian stands over him, boot on his chest.
I don’t wait. I carry her to the lift, to the car.
Callaghan is already out front, rain hissing off the Bentley’s hood. Carter is slumped by the wheel, white as a sheet. He looks up and meets my eyes. His hold an apology and fear in equal measure.
I load her in. She clutches at me for one last second, fingers hooked into the back of my shirt. ‘No one will ever hurt you again.’
‘My bracelet,’ she whispers. ‘I just wanted my bracelet.’