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5
salvatore
My temper snaps in half.I go into protector mode, transforming into an attack dog. I cut a direct path toward him, inserting myself between where Delphine’s standing with Dominic and where he’s come through the doorway.
Adrenaline floods my system and takes away any sense of reason and logic. I become a very dangerous man operating off a killer mindset and feral instinct. A threat has emerged within proximity of my wife and son, and I will eliminate said threat by any means necessary.
With my bare hands. In gory, violent fashion. I will do what I have to.
Ernest Adams stands before us. Somebody that most people would be pleased to see—and shocked first and foremost considering he’s supposed to be dead—but somebody that I know deep down is rotten to the core.
The man that tried, and eventually succeeded, in taking Delphine away from me. Whose actions ultimately hurt her no matter if he claims he was trying to protect her as a father.
It doesn’t fucking matter, because his viselike grip on her is no more. I won’t ever let his manipulations succeed again like in the past. He won’t ever hurt her or confuse her like he has so many times before.
This isn’t a fucking game. This is my family now. My wife and son.
His brow furrows as I storm toward him, and uncertainty temporarily flickers in his gaze—he’s wondering if I’ll put my hands on him. If I’m about to kick his ass.
He’s right to worry over this.
My fists are tight and ready as I approach in a fast stride. “Get the fuck out of here,” I growl. “That was the only time I’m telling you—”
“Mancino—”
“LEAVE!”
“This is between my daughter and—ARGH!”
“Salvatore!” Delphine squeals, and Dominic erupts in an alarmed cry.
I’ve made good on my promise. I’ve gripped him up by the front of his fancy slate-gray suit and shoved him into the door so damn hard his head knocks against the wooden surface.
I feel myself losing control. I feel the rampage inside me being unleashed to the point it’s terrifying to normal people.
A psycho about to do what he does best—kill and destroy in the most violent fashion imaginable.
Ernest sees it in my face. He sputters out a breath and tries to scrabble at my hands to no avail. My grip is locked in, twisted into the front of his suit, my murderous stare unblinkingly on his face.
The deepest level of hatred and loathing charges the air.
“Get the fuck out,” I warn in a quiet tone. “Right now. Get the fuck out.”
“Salvatore,” Delphine gasps. She’s gently bouncing a wailing Dominic in her arms, trying to get him to calm down. “Please… please… you’re making Dominic cry.”
“Delphi, I just wanted to see you,” Ernest chokes out, still pinned to the door. “I wanted to see Dominic.”
“Don’t fucking say his name!” I bark in his face like a beast. “Don’t you ever fucking say my son’s name!”
“He’s my grandson!”
My hand cinches around his throat and I squeeze. Not in warning. Not to restrain.To kill.
With my full strength.
Ernest’s eyes bulge and he desperately pries at my hands and writhes against the door. He’s no small man. It’s no small feat pinning him against the door and choking him out with my bare hands.
But it’s exactly what happens—he begins coughing and trying to call for help.
