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Yes, this is exactly where I want my husband every night.
I stand there, people bumping into me as they move, and my mind wanders to last night. I gulp down a tinge of vomit that my husband would grab a woman from this dance floor, take her to his office, and be intimate with her. Just thinking about it makes me want to burn down the building.
I shake my head, wondering when I became this insecure.
Since Benny—that’s when.
It’s as if the man tore out that jealous, raging monster I never knew I had.
“Time for a celebratory drink for not being caught,” Bria screams at me over the music.
I give her a side-eye. “Pretty sure you just jinxed us.”
We hold hands as we head toward the bar so we don’t get lost in the crowd.
A man steps in front of us, only inches from the bar, and cuts off our path. “Hey, sexy girl. Want to dance?” He performs an offbeat version of the running man.
“Dancing gives her hives,” Bria answers for me.
I nearly fall when she tugs me around the man and storms toward the bar.
“Hives?” I ask when we reach the bar. “Really?”
“It’s one thing being here, but dancing with another man will poke the murderous bear,” she explains, squeezing us between two men at the bar. “That guy seemed a little weird, and his dance skills were definitely sketchy, but he doesn’t deserve to die at the hands of your murderous husband.” She tilts her head to the side and gives me aremember your engagement partyexpression.
“Fair point,” I mutter, wiping my hand along the wet bar while Bria waves down a bartender. “I want to drive Benny insane, but not at the expense of someone else.”
Bria steps on her tiptoes and swings her arms in the air, a twenty between her fingers. People yell their drink orders to the poor bartender, screaming over each other from every inch of the bar.
Thanks to my sister’s hotness, he takes our order third.
She orders a round of tequila shots. He takes her money and hurriedly pours them. When he shoves them down the bar, a man tries to intercept one, but I whack his hand away.
We cheers before draining our shots.
The drink soothes my parched throat.
I wonder how long it’ll take Benny to find me.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
BENNY
“Did you speak with Severino?”my father asks while wandering around my office at the club.
I shake my head and click the pen in my hand. “He had a colonoscopy and is out of commission for the day.”
“At least he’ll have a clean asshole when you tell him what an idiot his son is.” He picks up a gold paperweight from my desk and plays with it in his hands.
I nod in agreement.
That’s a positive way to look at it.
“Did you speak with Sammie?” is his next question.
“Over the phone.”
“Why not in person?”
