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Lifting an eyebrow, I steer her toward the house. “We have to tell Cillian we’re married.” A grimace forms on her face, and I let out a chuckle. “Let me handle it.”
“Good, when I’m done nursing Cillian back to health, I can nurse you when he’s done beating you up,” she teases me.
“I’d like to see him try.” I let out a chuckle as we step into the house – our home.
“I’m going to check on Cillian,” Winter says. “What are you going to do?”
“Take care of business.”
Winter turns her face up to me, and I press a kiss to her mouth.
“I’ll help with the business once Cillian has recovered.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”
I watch her walk up the stairs then leave the house to check on the guards stationed around the island. I need to get to know every single one of them. It takes me a couple of hours as I walk around the grounds, familiarizing myself with where everything is.
When I reach the men guarding the piers, I ask, “Names and how long have you worked here?”
“Phil. Eleven years,” the first and oldest of the three answers.
My gaze snaps to the second man. “Jasper. Seven years.”
When my eyes lock on the last man, he gives me a condescending look. “Petro. Five years.”
“Petro,” I grumble, taking a threatening step toward him. “Do we have a problem?”
“Not at all,” he mutters while smirking as if he knows something I’m not aware of.
I take another step closer to him and stare him down until he glances away. “You’re welcome to leave,” I murmur darkly. “In a body bag.” His eyes snap back to mine, and I see a glimmer of fear. “I’m not Patrick Hemsley or Cillian. Don’t fuck with me.”
Petro nods and wisely backs a step away from me. “Yes, Sir.”
I make my way back to the house, and reaching Cillian’s room, I murmur, “Winter, come here.”
She lets go of Cillian’s hand, and when she steps out into the hallway, I shut the door, so Dana won’t hear us talk.
Winter gives me a questioning look, then asks, “What’s wrong?”
“I went to check on the guards, and one gave me attitude.” The more I think about the incident, the more I wish I had just killed him. I won’t tolerate insubordination. “How well do you know them?”
“Well enough. Which one do you have a problem with?”
“Petro. He’s stationed by the piers.”
I watch as Winter’s eyes widen, then she quickly says, “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry about it.”
Tilting my head, my heartbeat begins to speed up. My voice is a low warning as I ask, “Is there something I should know?” Winter steps closer to me and places her hand on my arm as if she’s trying to placate me. My expression hardens. “Don’t dare lie to me. Have you fucked him?”
“It was before you –”
I walk away before she can finish the sentence and rush out of the house in the direction of the piers. Anger burns through my veins. Every time I start to think about that fucker with my wife, even if it was before she married me, unreasonable rage engulfs me.
“Damien!” I hear Winter call behind me.
Halfway there, I pull my gun from behind my back, and my finger hovers over the trigger. With every step I take, the rage burns hotter, like an inferno incinerating all logic, until my vision tunnels on the three men ahead of me.
“Damien, wait!” Winter catches up to me and grabs hold of my arm.
I shrug her off, and one dark glare from me is enough for her to stop walking.
Jasper notices me first and quickly says something to the other two. As Petro’s head snaps in my direction, I raise the gun, and I don’t stop walking until the barrel is pressed against his skull.
“You fucked my wife?”
He just stares at me as fear pales his face.
Without a second thought, I pull the trigger, then I turn my gaze to Phil. “Has anyone else on this island fucked her?”
“No, Sir,” he answers immediately.
“Dispose of the body,” I growl the order.
“Yes, Sir.”
I walk back to where Winter’s standing, her eyes wide on me. Stopping right in front of her, my voice is low with anger, “I better be the only man alive who’s fucked you.”
“You are,” she breathes.
It’s only then the rage begins to lose its potency, and I breathe through the rest of the anger until I’m in control of my emotions.
“You’re the only one I love. I haven’t loved before you,” Winter says, a pleading look on her face.
The words help calm me, and I reach for her neck, wrapping my fingers around her throat. I pull her to me, and Winter tilts her head back to keep eye contact with me.
Her hands find my sides, and she grips hold of my shirt. “There’s only you, Damien.”
