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Her eyes widen. “You can’t do that. It’s our wedding day.”

“Do you want to tempt me?” I ask, deadly serious. “Because I would.”

She lets out a defeated sigh. “As I was passing by with Audrey, they said the reason you swapped me for my sister is because you wanted my… virgin pussy.”

Her voice drops to a whisper on the last words, shame and anger coloring her cheeks.

Red floods my vision as I look at the men. “They did, didn't they?”

I take Aurora’s hand and start marching toward the bar where those idiots are still standing. She whispers urgently, tugging at my arm, “Please, Roman, just forget it. It’s nothing. I’m not even offended.”

I ignore her. The moment the men see me approaching, they shut their mouths. Fat, drunken Italian fools.

“So,” I say, voice low and dangerous, “my wife just informed me that you fools chose to disrespect her.”

One of them lets out a nervous chuckle. “Oh no, no… we didn’t say a word to her.”

The entire room begins to take notice, conversations dying as heads turn in our direction.

I tilt my head. “So you’re saying my wife is lying? You’re calling her a liar?”

“No, no! That’s not what we meant—”

Lorenzo appears beside us, frowning. “Roman, what’s going on?”

I don’t take my eyes off the men. “Your men disrespected my wife.”

Aurora looks like she wants the ground to swallow her.

I glance at her. “Solnyshko, point out which one said it.”

Her eyes slowly move across the group before settling on the man standing in the middle.

“Him.”

The man immediately pales. I step closer until we’re barely a foot apart. “So, you thought it was wise to disrespect me… and my wife.”

“N-No, Pakhan—”

Lorenzo steps forward. “Come on, Roman. There’s no need to blow this out of proportion. They’re drunk. They were just talking nonsense.”

I finally turn toward him. “That's where you get it wrong. Any form of disrespect toward my wife is a disrespect to me,” I say coldly.

“You may have tolerated such things, but Aurora is now my wife. I won’t tolerate it from anyone.”

The man is trembling now. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “Please… I was joking. It won’t happen again.”

“I know.”

He looks relieved for half a second.

“I’m going to make sure of it.” I snap my fingers, and two of my soldiers step forward instantly.

“Take him outside and cut out his tongue.”

Gasps ripple through the room. The man starts crying and begging.

“No!” he shouts. “Please! It wasn’t that serious!”