“Mia moglie. Is this man bothering you?”
“Wife?” Orlando’s pupils blew wide, and then he glanced down at my hand, noticing the ring. “How is that possible?”
“I said I do. That’s how it’s possible. Now leave, Orlando.”
I caught the subtle shift in Santino beside me, the way his eerie stillness thickened and coiled into something vicious. Whatever patience he had left from tonight was bleeding out of him by the second. As much as he was a dick, Orlando didn’t deserve a death sentence, and that was where this was heading by the look in Sani’s eyes.
“We broke up three weeks ago. And now you’re married?” He barked a humourless laugh. “Cristo, you gave me so much shit for fucking around. Obviously, I wasn’t the only one,” he accused, seemingly oblivious to the threat standing right in front of him.
Santino’s glare slid over him slowly. “You’re the asshole who cheated on her.”
It wasn’t a question but a judgement. And it was enough to snap Orlando back to his senses and make him finally notice the rage vibrating from my husband. All the colour drained from his face.
“Orlando. Leave. Please,” I was begging because the last thing we needed was a scene in a very public setting.
He twisted away, scurrying out of the restaurant like a rat running from the rain. I stepped in front of Sani, pressing my palms to his chest. His heart was slamming against them, as if trying to break free, and his deep brown eyes took on obsidian flecks as they locked onto the exit Orlando had just bolted through. I swallowed thickly as the angles of his face had sharpened with barely restrained fury. I watched him slip into the darkness before my eyes, ready to detonate.
“Santino,” I warned, lifting my hand to his face to force his gaze away from the exit. “Sani, look at me.”
He didn’t. He stormed past me.Shit.I grabbed my handbag from the bar and raced after him, trying to keep up with his long strides in my heels. He was outside, marching down the street, before I reached the door.
“SignoraBuccini, don’t forget your coat,” the server shouted, but I ignored him. I burst through the door just in time to see Santino grab Orlando by the collar and slam him against a brick wall, a crack echoing down the quiet street.Shit. Shit. Shit.I ran, yelling his name as Santino’s fist flew into Orlando’s cheek, snapping his face sideways while his date screamed hysterically behind them.
“What the fuck, man—”
Consumed by whatever demon had possessed him, he didn’t let Orlando finish his sentence or hear me screaming at him to stop. His fists pummelled Orlando’s face, and the sound of bone cracking filled the air until my ex was a bloody heap on the cobbled ground, barely conscious. I grabbed Santino’s shirt when there was finally a pause in his brutality and shoved him back.
“Stop! Sani—stop!” I grabbed his face, forcing his attention to me. His onyx eyes, full of beautiful savageness, finally locked with mine, and I flinched.
He was a predator mid-kill, full of controlled madness and a thirst for violence. I stepped back from him, which seemed to spark a flicker of humanity as he stared at me, breathing hard.
He turned to the girl, kneeling beside Orlando’s groaning body, and said with detached calmness, “Call an ambulance. I broke his nose and a rib. If you both want to live another day, you never saw us tonight. Understand?”
She bobbed her head frantically, her bottom lip quivering as tears cut through her mascara streaks. She thought he was a monster. Then she looked at me as if I were one too.
Sani grabbed my hand and yanked me back down the street toward his bike. One of his men appeared, handed him our helmets, then retreated. Sani shoved one into my hands, then put his on, snapping the visor down so I couldn’t see his face.
“Should you be driving?” I whispered, my voice trembling. Surely, he had toomuch adrenaline to focus on anything, especially controlling a superbike.
“Get on the bike, Aria.” He swung his leg over and revved the engine, waiting for me to join him.
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Orlando’s date phoning the emergency services, and a couple who had just spotted them from across the road were racing over to help. Bile rose in my throat. I gripped Sani’s shoulders, climbed on, and kept my eyes closed for the entire ride home as the shock of what had happened finally caught up with me.
When the bike pulled into the underground garage, I couldn’t get off it quickly enough. Orlando was a dickhead, but did he really deserve to be beaten to a pulp and put in the hospital for it? And Sani hadn’t said a word to me the entire ride home. He stayed silent even as he took the helmet from my hands, placed it back on the storage unit with his, and strode towards the lift.
Not. One. Fucking. Word.
“Are we going to talk about what the hell just happened?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as the metal doors shut.
He stretched and studied his bloodied knuckles as if they belonged to someone else. “What’s there to say?”
I swallowed. “That you lost control? You could have killed him, Sani. One punch would have sufficed.”
His mouth twitched. “I’m not a one-punch kind of guy.”
Clearly.
I stared at him while he refused to look at me. He was still vibrating, his muscles tense and his expression dark, though he was doing a better job of containing it now. But that darkness was still there. His face was cold and distant, almost unrecognisable as the man I’d spent the last few days with.
