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I clench my teeth so hard they might break my jaw.
“Don’t you want me anymore?”
At the pain passing her features, I press my forehead to hers. If she only knew how fucking much I want her.
“Sweetheart, there is nothing in this world I crave more.”
“Then why?” she asks, as I set her back on her feet.
Cato and Chiara appear from around the corner, both disheveled, lips swollen.
She takes Aurora’s hand, and they disappear into the crowd.
“Fuck, Chiara drives me crazy. She loves to fucking provoke me. Get me shit-faced because this woman will drive me into an early grave.”
Two hours later, I tell Daniel he should take the girls home. They had their fun, danced, even had more drinks.
“Thank you for tonight,” Aurora says, her eyes sparkling as we leave the club.
“You’re my world.”
She presses herself into me, and I say, “Text me when you’re there.”
“I’m scared.”
I tip her chin up. “Why?”
“What if he catches us?”
My brows knit together. “Who?” Who will die a slowly, painful death?
My wife should never be scared, especially since she lives with a man that puts fear in others.
“Her father.”
“How did you get out then?”
“Through the door.”
Her innocence is an elixir cleansing a bit of my darkness. I watch Chiara, who seems paralyzed by the prospect of going home.
I shoot Cato a text. A minute later, he’s here, and when he sees Chiara trembling, he lifts her chin and asks, “What’s wrong?”
Her panic burns in her eyes, but she bites the inside of her cheek.
She’s stubborn, but she’s not my problem.
“You’re coming with me,” I say to Aurora, and she uses all her strength to drag me back.
“No, she needs me.”
My wife has a level of goodness even saints strive to reach.
All four of us get in the car and when we reach Chiara’s place, she whispers, “He’s going to kill me.”
“I’d kill him before he got that far,” Cato says and gets out of the car first. We stare at the mansion, devising the best route to get the girls in the house.
“She’s going to be my wife tomorrow. He can’t do shit to her.”
