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"Ben," she whispered, pulling back slightly, still holding tightly to him. Her eyes were glassy, tears threatening to spill. She bit her lip and blinked rapidly, hoping the pain would keep them back. Ben frowned as he cupped her cheeks gently, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her breath quickened as she tried to hold back another cry.
"You're okay, Lizzie." He kissed her forehead lovingly. "I'm gonna protect you." His words were spoken quietly so that only she could hear. He gently brushed her hair out of her eyes and placed one more kiss on her lips. She leaned into his embrace, closing her eyes.
He then turned his attention back to Angelo, ready to punish him for his misdeeds. But Angelo wasn't done yet. He grabbed Liz once more by the arm, pulling her forcefully closer to him. Liz yelped in surprise, but he ignored her as he pressed his face close to her ear and started whispering.
Ben lunged toward her, wrapping his hand tightly around Angelo’s wrist. He used his free hand to slam the man to the floor, landing directly on top of him. His hand gripped tighter around the wrist, making sure he couldn't move as his body trembled with rage.
Angelo’s eyes widened as he looked up at Ben. He struggled beneath him, squirming to get away from the death grip Ben had on him. "Get off of me, you little shit!" he screamed and attempted to grab him. Ben tightened the grip on his hand, ignoring his pleas and shouts.
He was going to teach him a lesson. It was about time that the bastard learned the consequences of treating Elizabeth the same way he treated everyone else. He would never lay a finger on her, no matter what happened. He wouldn't let Angelo win this game.
Angelo growled furiously, kicking out with his legs. Ben kicked them away again, using his free hand to dig his nails into the wrist he was holding and squeezing. Angelo screamed, trying and failing to shake his arm free from the grip Ben had on it.
Ben swung, hitting Angelo in the nose, knocking his head back, and causing blood to drip down into his mouth. "Ben!" Liz exclaimed, watching from where she stood in the doorway. Her voice shook as she gasped. She was terrified and couldn't believe what she was witnessing. Ben raised his head, looking straight at Liz. His eyes burned, filled with rage and sorrow and regret.
He turned back to Angelo, delivering blow after blow, over and over again. He hit Angelo’s head with every punch. Blood covered the side of Angelo’s face, staining his clothes and covering the floor in a dark red stain.
Angelo’s struggles grew weaker until his struggle ceased completely. Ben stared at him for a long moment before releasing the man's wrist from his grip. Angelo fell back, groaning softly, the hand that he held over his bleeding nose falling limply onto his chest. As Angelo lay on his side, coughing up blood and cursing under his breath, Ben stared at him without saying anything.
It didn't take long for Angelo to pass out. His eyes glazed over, and his breathing grew slower. He lay there, unmoving, while Ben slowly got off of him, picking up the fallen beer bottles and throwing them against the walls of the room.
He wiped the sweat from his brow as his chest heaved. Everything seemed to calm down after that. The noise died down, and he finally allowed his shoulders to slump, feeling completely drained. He turned toward Liz and lifted his gaze to hers. His heart ached as he saw the fear, shock, and disgust filling her beautiful blue eyes.
Chapter14
Liz
The abrupt violence sent Liz into a whirlwind of excitement. Except, it wasn’t the kind of excitement that she thought she would experience after observing a man’s face be nearly caved in. It felt like there were butterflies in her stomach, supersonic mutated ones.
She stood back away from the attack, watching it wind down as a pool of blood stained the ostentatious carpet like a fruit juice spill. She had to stay in character, and that sentiment was twofold. No one could know about her intimate relationship with Ben, and he also couldn’t know about the growing endearment she had toward him.
It was like wearing two masks at once, to the point where you began to lose what the actual truth was in the first place.
But she managed to maintain the visage of a dainty, dumbstruck woman until the violence finally commenced. The injured Moretti was taken from the room, dragged by his arms while his loafers skidded across the floor, likely stained by the lingering blood pooled there
Ben’s face was contorted with rage, pointing a finger down the hallway in an attempt to add some flair and reasoning to his outburst.
Well, that was what Liz assumed anyway.
“You don’t touch the fucking help!” he bellowed, wiping away the drool emanating from his bottom lip.
Liz raised a hand to her beating heart and realized she was swooning. Despite the outward violence that she would have never condoned in a past life, she knew deep down that no one had ever done such a thing for her. It sounded strange and a bit lame to admit it, but there was something primal about him coming to her defense that made her want to squeeze her thighs together.
Then again, it wasn’t just the physical aspect of him that was turning her on. Everything about him drew her to him, and the urge to have him around in ways that went beyond the fleeting excitement of sex was beginning to seep into her soul.
Before she could find a way to return to observing the gathering, Ben snapped a glare in her direction. It took her by surprise, its intensity, the glow of the emerald eyes that she had seen the first time they were in bed together. She froze, his pupils widening and dilating.
He snapped his fingers at her multiple times, casting a cloak over his frustration.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he said, motioning his head. “You’ve caused enough trouble, young lady.”
Liz felt like she was floating, and he grabbed her by the wrist just enough to paint the image of an angry mobster. He pulled her out of the room, down the neon red lit hallway, and out of the club, her heels tapping against the ground the entire time like the summoning of a spirit.
Once they got outside, he let her wrist go, and he gazed around for any observers. Liz remained still, unsure how to act. She was still defrosting from her shock around his brutality.
His face was still hardened, his jaw tight, his brow furrowed, but the pupils had returned to normal. His eyes flickered like candlelight, soft and sultry on her own.
“Are you okay?” he asked, seemingly calm.
