Page 36 of Dark Bratva Christmas
He arches a dark brow. “I came to extend my congratulations, of course.”
I narrow my gaze. “Thank you.”
“And to tell you, you made a big fucking mistake.”
I bristle. “Why’s that?”
A smirk stretches across his face as he throws back his drink. “Your wife is dancing with another man right now.”
The fuck she is.I shove Mauricio Vitale to the side, not caring about the way his insidious laughter echoes in the night.So much for getting air.
I spot them the moment I step back into the party. Catarina. AndfuckingPeter.
“Matysh, it’s–” Catarina stumbles back from Peter as I storm toward the two of them, seeing fuckingred.
But before she can say any more, my fist curls and flies through the air. It crashes into Peter’s jaw as if in slow motion, blood and saliva spraying from his mouth as he staggers backward. He stays on his feet and brings his hand to his face to protect himself on instinct.
The world seems to speed back up after the first punch. People scream, running to back away from me. Glasses of champagne shatter on the ground. Chairs screech against the marble floor.
Fuck them all.
I swing at him again with my other fist, cracking it against his jaw a second time. This time he falls backward and lands on the ground with a thud. Panic is clear in his eyes.
“Boss, I just thought I would keep her company…” He doesn’t understand what he did wrong.
I’ll make him.
I bend over and grab his hand. “You know what happens when you touch my wife?Ya slomayu tebe ruku(I’ll break your hand),” I say before bending his fingers back until I hear an audible snap.
Peter shrieks, crying out, his voice echoing through a now silent ballroom.
I kneel over him so my face is inches away from his. “Posmotri na moyu zhenu yeshche raz i ya otnimu u tebya glaza(Look at my wife again and I'll take your eyes for it).”
The warning is clear. He nods his head in understanding and as soon as I stand, he scoots away.
“You’re fuckingfired,” I spit at him, and then turn to Catarina. “Youcome with me.Now.”
I turn around and grab Catarina’s hand, dragging her away from the chaos.
Catarina struggles to keep up with me as I walk fast to leave the ballroom and call for one of my other drivers to meet us outside.
“I’m sorry,” Catarina says, trying to end my fury before it gets out of control. “He was your man… I-I swear, it was nothing—”
“Nothing? He put his hands on you, he swayed you around, fucking danced with you!” I'm shouting and the chauffeur winces when he opens the door to let both of us in the back seat.
Catarina recoils at my voice, but I can’t stop.
“Fuck!” I can’t keep my head straight. “You’remywife! People need to know that they don’t get to touch the wife of the most powerful Pakhan in the city.”
She doesn't say anything as she settles into the back of the seat, her eyes dropping to her hands.
We make the entire drive back to the estate in silence, and I try everything I can not to explode as I have to make arrangements for Peter to be dealt with in the appropriate manner—as in, throw him into thewarehouseuntil I have a spare moment.
In the meantime, I have to deal withmy wife.
And as soon as we step back into the house, Catarina turns to storm away. I’m sure she’s planning on going to her room and spending the rest of the night there, sulking about not being able to have another man touch her.
And I can’t fucking have that.
