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“That’s enough, Father,” I snarled.
Gabriel quickly changed the subject to a business matter. I reached under the table for Jessica’s small, cold hand and gave it a squeeze. She gave me a small smile to let me know that she was alright—well, as alright as anyone could be in such a situation.
The meal continued and my father said nothing more to Jessica.
After the main meal had been consumed, Jessica excused herself to go to the bathroom.
A couple of minutes later, my father stood up. “I’m going to get another couple of bottles from the wine cellar.”
He’d clearly had too much to drink already.
I excused myself from the table and followed him.
He did not make for the wine cellar and instead headed in the opposite direction.
I started to quicken my step.
As Jessica came out of the bathroom, he pushed her against the wall. “I’ve been wondering when I’d get you to myself...”
Before he could say anything else, I grabbed him and slammed him into the opposite wall, its surface thudding with the sound of the harsh impact of his body into its unforgiving solidness. “Don’t touch her!”
“You think you can stop me?” he slurred. “I’m Capo and she’ll do whatever I tell her to, including spreading her legs.”
Gabriel was hot on my heels, and he took Jessica’s arm and led her away. “Come on, Jessica, let’s get you somewhere where you can sit down.” She was as pale as a sheet and looked like she might pass out.
The blood was drumming in my ears, beating so intensely that it seemed to echo around my entire body.
For my father to think that he could attack my wife while I was in the same house showed how arrogant he was and how sloppy he’d become. I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to his office, his drunkenness making it easier than it should have been.
He stumbled in my hold but I didn’t slow down or loosen my grip.
Once we were in his office, I shoved him onto his desk.
A groan of pain escaped his lips as his spine connected with the wooden surface at an unnatural angle, jarring his body.
He tried to scramble back up but I rammed him back onto the desk and then tightened a grip around his throat.
His fingers clawed at my wrist, trying to prize my grasp from his oxygen supply as his face started to go red.
“You shouldn't have ever touched Jessica,” I snarled. I’d wanted to do this for so long, to steal every last breath from his lungs and squeeze every last drop of blood from his body.
Every inch of my skin prickled with adrenaline. How I’d longed to take my fury out on this pathetic man who preyed on the innocent.
His pupils were dilated with terror. He knew he was no match for my rage, not in his current state.
“Look, Rafael—” he rasped.
“Shut your fucking mouth!” I wanted to beat him bloody and wanted to slam my fists repeatedly into his face and body.
“Don't…let the little whore get between us…”
“Don’t you dare talk about her like that,” I roared. “What man forces himself upon an innocent, powerless woman?”
“She’s a part of our world, and she knows…what sort of men we are…” He struggled to force his words out.
“No, the fuck she didn't know! Not until you put your slimy, disgusting hands on her.”
He'd become complacent since my wedding, thinking that he’d got away with what he’d done. It made this all the more satisfying—he hadn't seen this coming, the arrogant prick.
