Page 73 of Lethal Attraction

He slaps a hand on the wooden desk as he makes a rough sound in his throat. “I knew you would give in! The gala is tomorrow night. I can introduce you to my connections and get the ball rolling.”

The gala.

Thalia warned us not to go, but that was before the playing field shifted—before I was close to the truth. I have to know.

“We’ll be there,” I say with a nod.

“Excellent!” Burton claps. “Make sure Taryn and her wife are with you too! The more, the merrier.”

I turn back towards the door before stopping. My hand is paused halfway on the handle as another question rests at the tip of my tongue. “Hey, have you heard from Brooks recently?”

Burton opens his mouth, but what comes out isn’t his next sentence. Our blood runs cold at the shrill scream of someone down the hallway.

Chapter nineteen

Thalia

That bitch touched what belongs to me. She put her fucking hands on my man. She hurt him.

I move like a phantom through the ER public entrance, everything around me fading into nothingness as I stalk through each corridor. I pass unknowingly through the OR’s main room, my eyes hyper-focused on the task at hand as I snatch a scalpel off an open tray.

Reed wants to see what I’m about. There’s only so much time left before he uncovers the whole truth.

Mine, mine, mine.

I pass back out to the main stretch of the hospital, my sight zeroing in on Galene’s office a few doors down. I take the path before knocking on her door sweetly and then just barreling inside.

Her head whips up from her computer screen as she frowns. At least she tries to. The Botox makes it hard for her to change her facial expression.

“Knock, knock, sweetheart!” I sing loudly.

“How did you get back here?” She asks with a hard edge to her voice. “This area is restricted—MPH!”

I grab her plastic face, my nails biting into her cheeks so hard it could puncture her hack job facial. Our noses almost brush as I invade her personal space and let every ounce of fucking rage I feel swell between us and leech into my gaze.

“Oh, you want to talk about consent?” I croon with a tilt to my head as if I’m speaking to a child and not a fully grown woman who can’t keep her fucking hands to herself. “I figured I didn’t need to wait for your response to barge in. Since you don’t really care about boundaries and all.”

She tries to pull away, but I don’t allow her to, as my nails bite so hard that red welts are forming. I lift my other hand, the one with the scalpel, and her eyes widen with fear. Her urgency picks up as she plants her hands on the edge of her desk and shoves backward.

“Oh, don’t go getting scared now!” My lips tug up into a Cheshire grin. “You touched what belongs to me. So, I’m removing the problem. If you can’t keep your hands to yourself, then you don’t need them to begin with.”

Fresh tears well in the corners of her eyes as she shakes her head. Her skin is slick with sweat as she whimpers pathetically. “Please, no.”

I hum noncommittally as I tilt my head and shake her around like a rag doll. “Should have thought about that before you assaulted my boyfriend. Since you can’t seem to grasp the difference between yes and no, your pleas mean nothing to me.”

My arm rears back, and she fights even harder, her legs kicking as she tries to scream past my palm over her lips.

“I would say we can count this as a valuable lesson, but there won’t be a next time.” I say, my eyes half-lidded and dangerous.

I stab down, effectively slicing right through the meat and tendons of her left hand. She shrieks, tossing her head back as the sound bounces off the walls. Blood squelches, welling around the blade plunged into her flesh.

Her wedding band, something very shiny and expensive, catches my eye. “Oh! You won’t be needing that anymore.”

I extract the scalpel, causing her to sob brokenly as her cheeks flush.

“Please don’t do this!” she begs.

I grab her ring finger tightly. “Relax. Your husband is better off without you, anyway. I’ll even send him a nice gift basket with the ring attached so he can pawn it or something.”