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I watch her unabashedly as she serves our starters. The curve of her neck is long and elegant. Her fingers are slender, but they serve with efficient and sure movements, not spilling a drop of the gazpacho soup. A smell of raspberry fills my nostrils as she brushes past me, the fabric of her dress touching my chair. She’s present in all of my senses, even in my thoughts with a memory of how her body surrendered to mine last night. My cock hardens. It’s a good thing we’re seated.
It’s hard to tear my attention away from her, but I need to concentrate on the negotiation and the subtle nuances of the conversation. I’m good at reading body language. I may not say much, but if our partners try to fuck us over, I’m always the first to get the hunch. With difficulty, I return my attention to the people seated at the opposite side of the table, but as I lift my eyes, I notice the way Diogo stares at Valentina. Anger explodes in my body and courses through my veins. The only thing that prevents me from reaching over the table and drowning him in his bowl of soup is that Valentina leaves the room, cutting his ogling short. I can’t wait for this night to be over.
Halfway through the main meal, we come to an agreement. The minute we shake hands on the deal, Magda’s tenseness evaporates. She becomes the engaging hostess she’s known for, drawing Jeremy into a friendly argument about the opposing rugby teams they support. Diogo asks for directions to the bathroom and excuses himself.
The skin between my shoulder blades pinches. I push back my chair. “Excuse me. I’m going to check on dessert.”
Magda shoots me a look, but I’m blind to the annoyance in her eyes. My soles are quiet in the carpeted hallway. In the entrance to the kitchen, I come to an abrupt halt. Valentina has her back pushed against the wall and a kitchen knife aimed at Diogo.
12
Gabriel
The knife in Valentina’s hand makes me see images that will haunt me forever. A million scenarios pop into my head. The thought of Valentina hurt or Diogo’s hands on her, pulls me from reason into a state of madness. In a flash, I pounce on Diogo, throwing him on the floor. I slam his face into the tiles and pin him down with my knees, my fists pounding into his ribs. The sounds of his strangled grunts and bone cracking aren’t enough. I want him to cough up blood until his lungs drown in it.
“Gabriel!”
Valentina’s voice pierces the ugly bubble of my rage. The piece of shit under me is struggling for his life. Slowly, I return to the distant part of humanity inside me, the little that’s left in my soul. Magda and Jeremy come running into the room, probably alarmed by Valentina’s scream.
“What in God’s name?” Magda grabs my arm and tries to pull me off the man sprawled out on the floor.
I shake her off, but it’s Valentina’s round, fearful eyes that beckon me to let the scumbag go.
Getting to my feet, I adjust my jacket. “Get up, you son of a bitch.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Jeremy takes Diogo by his shoulders to help him to his feet.
Pulling him up is a struggle. It looks like he has trouble breathing. I must’ve knocked the wind out of him and broken a few ribs. His nose is bleeding from the blow on the tiles.
Magda flutters around him like a hen. “Gabriel! Are you out of your mind?”
I jab a finger at Diogo. “If you put a finger on her, asshole, you’re dead.”
Magda and Jeremy turn their heads toward Valentina. She’s still standing with her back against the wall, her body trembling and her eyes fixed on Diogo.
I take the knife from her hand and leave it on the counter. Lowering my head, I put us on eye level. “Look at me.” Once I have her undivided attention, I ask, “Did he touch you?”
“No,” she whispers.
Magda starts speaking, but I cut her short. “What did he do?”
“He wanted to–to…”
She doesn’t have to say it. I know men like Diogo. I know the things they want to do. I turn to Diogo with cold calculation. “If I didn’t walk in here, what were you going to do?”
He spits blood from a split lip on the floor. “Have myself some fun. She’s only a maid, for Christ’s sake.”
My voice is soft, but my anger carries in my tone. “That gives you the right to assault the people living under my roof, the people I protect?”
“Hold on, son.” Jeremy steps between us, his palms raised. “You’re not going to risk our newly forged relationship over a maid, are you?”
I turn my vengeance on the old man. “She’s not just a maid. She’s property.”
