Page 66 of The Wrong Groom

“Don’t be absurd,” he says, his forehead creased.

“You are a horrific father,” I continue, my tone like ice, “and a pathetic excuse for a man. Alexis deserves far better than the way you’ve treated her. Better than you, period. And as long as she’s my wife, I’ll make sure she gets it.”

A vein pulses at Jonathan’s temple. His cheeks redden with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “You don’t know the first thing about our family,” he snarls, hackles raised like a cornered animal. “So don’t come over here trying to lecture me about⁠—”

“Enough.”

The single word is enough to silence him. He glowers up at me.

“Do you understand what I just said to you?”

Jonathan’s teeth are clenched so hard I can almost hear them grind. His eyes narrow, and he doesn’t answer.

“I asked you a question,” I say, my voice even colder now.

The elevator chimes behind him, the doors sliding open. Jonathan turns toward it, but I shift my stance to block his path subtly.

“Do you understand me, Jonathan?”

“You’ve made your point,” he mutters. “I get it.”

“Good,” I say slowly. “Because this is the last time I’ll have this conversation with you.”

I step out of his way, and he slinks onto the elevator, his shoulders hunched, his pride clearly wounded. The doors close behind him with a little ding.

Tension lingers in my taut muscles as I turn away from the elevators, back toward Alexis. She looks shocked. Her hands are trembling, her eyes wide, fixated on the spot where Jonathan just stood.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she whispers.

I shrug, doing my best to disguise the adrenaline still coursing through me from the confrontation. My body wants to act. To take her in my arms. To hold her, to shield her, to claim her. I can feel the host’s startled gaze on me, though, and manage to restrain myself.

“Yes, I did,” I tell her, my voice still taut, like a stretched wire.

“He d-doesn’t respond well to being called out like that. There… there will be fallout from this.” Her fingers clasp together, her anxiety palpable. “That can’t be good for your business arrangements, and you⁠—”

“Do you think I care about that?”

She blinks up at me, visibly startled. “What?”

I move toward her, my brow furrowing. “Do you think I would put some business deal above my wife’s safety? Do you think I would ever choose your father’s side over yours?”

She licks her lips, hesitating. “I’ve… never really had anyone stand up for me before.”

I press closer to her, close enough that we’re almost touching as she tips her chin up to meet my gaze.

“I can tell,” I murmur. “But that’s over. You have me now.”

Her mouth falls open slightly, and just like that, the tiny, strained thread holding me back snaps.

I close the small gap between us, cupping her jaw with one hand as the other tangles in her hair, and I lean down to kiss her.

Chapter 22

Alexis

Gabriel’s mouth crashes down on mine, and the kiss is so immediately intense that I almost forget we’re standing in a public hallway. There’s only him—the coarseness of the light stubble on his jaw, the firm press of his lips, his hands moving over me as if he’s desperate to touch every single part of me at once. A moan slips out of me before I can stop it, my entire body molding against his.

He breaks away just enough to speak, his voice rough and his breath warm against my skin. “Fuck, sunshine. Do you have any goddamn idea what you do to me?”