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“I sure hope the bitch you’re referring to isn’t my wife.”

The room goes dead silent.

Sharon whips around. The color drains from her face the moment she sees me standing there. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish.

“Wh-what… your wife?” she stutters.

“I don’t care how important this conversation is,” I say, “but you’ll have to continue it another time. I need to talk to Luke. Alone.”

Sharon glances desperately at Luke, clearly expecting him to say something. But Luke just stands there, pale and silent, avoiding my eyes.

When he doesn’t speak, Sharon’s face twists with fury. She grabs her purse from the couch, stomps toward the door in her too-high heels, and mutters loud enough for us both to hear, “Weak. You’re such a weak man, Luke.”

The door slams shut behind her with a violent bang.

I turn my full attention to my nephew. He looks smaller than usual, shoulders tense, jaw clenched.

I unbutton my suit jacket slowly and take a seat on the leather armchair across from him.

“Sit down, Luke,” I say quietly. “We need to have a conversation.”

He hesitates for half a second, then sinks onto the couch opposite me, looking like a man who already knows he’s fucked.

Luke exhales shakily and runs a hand through his hair. “Uncle… I wasn’t expecting you. What’s up?”

I turn to face him fully, my expression flat. “You know why I’m here.”

He lets out a nervous laugh. “Oh. So Rosie told you?”

“Yeah,” I say, voice low. “She also told me you’re asking her to get back together with you.”

Luke shrugs, trying to play it casual, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. “Well… I still love her.”

“That’s unfortunate,” I reply calmly. “But Rosie is mine now. My wife. So you’re going to do away with those feelings.”

Luke’s jaw tightens. He shakes his head. “I can’t do that, Uncle. I still love Rosie, and I want her back.”

I stare at him, waiting.

He keeps going, digging the hole deeper. “Come on, Uncle. I saw her first—”

I cut him off, my voice turning to ice. “You had your chance with Rosie. And you fucked it up by fucking and then marrying her stepsister.”

Luke flinches but doesn’t back down. “That was a mistake. I’m paying for it every day. But I’m not letting Rosie go. She’s mine.”

Mine.

He just called Rosie his.

Red floods my vision.

Before I even register the movement, my fist swings forward and connects hard with his jaw. The crack is loud in the quiet penthouse. Luke loses his balance and crashes to the floor.

I stand over him. “The only reason I’m not putting a bullet in your head right now,” I say, voice dangerously quiet, “is because you’re my nephew. But I will not warn you again.”

I take one step closer, looking down at him.

“Rosie is mine. My wife. My woman. The mother of my child. Stay the fuck away from her. If you ever try to come between us again, if you even look at her the wrong way, blood or not, I will end you.”