My grip tightens further while grabbing a fistful of his damp, blood-soaked hair in my other hand.
One twist of my wrist and a sickening crack echoes through the kitchen as his jaw snaps out of place.
Screams of pain erupt from him while we stare into each other's eyes, then I release him and step back.
"Kill him," I instruct Harold. "No one steals from me. I want this message to be loud and clear. Kill him and dismember, then send a piece along with a brick of product to every family he had an association with."
Harold nods once. "Sure thing, boss."
With that, Ethan and I step out of the kitchen and the bound man's screams stop by the time we reach the front door.
Rain still lashes down outside, and my driver huddles under a black umbrella that's barely strong enough to withstand the wind.
America is such a wet country.
I peel the leather gloves from my hands and toss them into the trash by the door, then take a deep, calming breath.
"Ready to go show everyone how in love you are?" Ethan asks while trying to reform his beanie enough that it will sit on his head.
"This is not my first time," I remind him.
The party within the hotel is in full swing by the time Ethan and I arrive twenty minutes later.
Those from Rose's side of the family are more reserved in their celebration and easy to spot in the crowd.
They hold their drinks close to their chests, glancing at one another as if the very air around them is at risk of spiking them.
Music fills the air, glasses clink and rattle, and several of my guards are in the party spirit, given how they chant and dance near the stage where the live band plays.
Calvin approaches me with a vodka in hand.
"Here," he says with a brief, polite smile. "Is everything sorted?"
"Yup," Ethan says sadly, once again holding a soaked beanie while his hair stands up in all directions. "Shouldn't be an issue."
"Where is Rose?" I scan the crowd, mapping the faces of my generals who stare at me with heavy expectation in their eyes, a few close friends and staff, and even Rose's brother, Mathew. But I don't see Rose.
Something uncomfortable ticks under my heart in the few seconds it takes for me to scan the room.
As much as this is a business deal, Rose is now my responsibility and anything that happens to her, good or bad, will reflect on me.
"She was with me a second ago." Calvin spins a one-eighty, his brows knitting together. He's barely finished his sentence when she suddenly appears right in front of me with the widest, happiest smile on her face.
The joy warming her features is completely unexpected, given the situation, but there's an innocence to it as she lays her hand on my forearm. "Kon! Can I call you Kon? Calvin called you Kon so I figured that's what you like to be called and I am your wife after all so it makes sense I would call you that, right?"
Beneath the soft, floral notes of her perfume, the subtle tang of alcohol warms the air between us.
Ah.
She's not joyful.
She's just a little drunk. That explains everything.
Calvin winces to my left, but there's no need to reprimand him since, for appearances' sake, it makes sense for her to call me whatever she wants.
"You can call me that," I reply quietly.
"Good.Kon." Her expression hardens immediately while I soak up the rather soft way she pronounces my name. "I can't believe you said I do and then ran from that place like that! Do you truly detest the thought of being married to me?"
