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“Shut the fuck up. I know everything.”
He shut up.
“I think it would be in the best interest of your health if you resigned after the performance on Friday and found a new career. A career where there aren’t teenage girls for you to prey on.”
His brows twisted at my words. “But, but, where am I supposed to find another job?”
My fists tightened on his shirt, nearly choking him. “That’s not my problem. You should have fucking thought of that before you started targeting freshman girls. And you definitely should have thought of it before you put your filthy fucking hands on the woman that belongs to me.”
His face was turning red, probably due to the limitations to his airway. “Okay, okay,” he gasped.
I leaned in close, lowering my voice. “You don’t know how close I am to cutting off the hand you used to touch my girl, but I know it would upset her. That’s the only reason you still have it. If you’re here after the concert, I might not stay so generous.”
“Fine, I’ll leave,” he wheezed, sweat dampening his thinning brown hair.
“You will only engage with her for this week until the concert. Do I have to describe to you, in detail, all the violent, painful things I will do if you even consider talking to her in any way that doesn’t have a direct connection to music?”
“No, I won’t talk to her, I promise,” he gasped out.
“Good.” I let go of him, pushing against his desk, piles of sheet music falling to the floor. He instinctively leaned over to pick it up and I gave him a sharp kick to the ribs. When he fell to the floor, he looked up at me in shock.
Did he seriously think he could put his hands on Emmy and I wouldn’t kick his ass? I grabbed him by the shirt again and landed a swift right hook to his face, feeling vicious satisfaction at his squeaks and groans.
Unfortunately, he knew better than to get up off the floor. I left him huddled in front of his desk wailing like a bitch.
When Emmy had seen him at her practice, she came out of practice furious, hurling accusations, saying I made him afraid to even approach her. I happily confessed to each of them, especially after I told her about his history.When she heard about his behavior, I had to stop her from marching in and taking a swing at him herself.
Now that I was backstage, Belshaw kept a minimum of twenty feet between us at all times. Wise choice on his part; I couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t jump him if he got in my radius. His presence didn’t do much to lessen my intense watchfulness.
I had Drago put men fucking everywhere, inside the auditorium and around the building. He thought I was fucking crazy allowing her to even be here. Of course, he was right, but I wasn’t about to explain how Emmy had given me pleasure to the point of madness to make sure I let her do this.
I looked down at her, a rush of emotion washing over me as I watched her get her instrument ready. An adorable wrinkle formed between her brows as she encountered some issue or another. She was so fucking beautiful. So talented and brilliant. What the fuck was she even doing with me?
“Why are you glaring at me? Don’t be mad at me because you agreed to let me come here.”
I shook my head, unaware of my expression, another unheard-of lapse. “I agreed under duress,” I grumbled, though my groin tightened as I remembered her form of coercion.
Before I could give my negative thoughts too much attention, her arms curled around my neck, pressing her body against me. My arms automatically clamped around her, pulling her tightly against me. Her hand slid into my hair and my muscles slowly relaxed. It was hard to believe that this much touching would have had me throwing her across the room only two months ago. Now, her touch was a source of comfort, of pleasure.
“I’ll be fine, Ivan. I swear,” she said, her hazel-blue eyes staring into mine earnestly as she made a promise I knew there was no way she could guarantee.
I fisted the hair at the base of her neck. “Let’s just get in and out of here as fast as possible.”
Her lips quirked, drawing my attention to her mouth. “It’s not like I can speed up the performance.”
“If only,” I said, then lowered my mouth to hers, needing to taste her, breathe her in, if only to calm my nerves. I’d been on countless operations for the Bratva and had rarely suffered a moment of stress or worry. Reflecting on it, I wondered if I had even cared about living or dying. But now, with her life on the line, all I did was fucking worry.
“Okay, everyone, we’re about to go on in ten minutes. Everyone who is not a performer must leave the area,” Belshaw said, not daring to even look in my direction even though I knew full well the comment was aimed at me. I rolled my eyes, but knew everyone backstage was annoyed with me hovering around Emmy and putting everyone on edge.
I gripped Emmy’s jaw, giving her a stern look. “I’ll be in the front row. I get any indication that things aren’t safe, anything at all, I’m pulling you out of here.”
“I understand.”
“What’s the signal if something is wrong?”
She held up her hand in the shape of a peace symbol. It was what we decided she’d do if something was wrong, and I needed to intervene.
“Yes, you see absolutely anything out of the ordinary, you throw that sign. Got it?”
