"Nico!" Lydia's voice breaks across the room, screaming. "Stop it! Please. You'll kill him."
“That’s the fucking idea.” My fist connects with his face again.
"Nico, please!" Her hand closes on my arm, trembling, and it buys the bastard enough room to wrench free from my grip.
He folds down the wall to the floor, sucking air in long ugly heaves. Lydia’s green eyes meet mine and work their way into my chest as a deathly stillness settles all around us.
My heart drums in my ear.Boom-doom. Boom-doom.Slowly, I unclench my fist and glare down at the cop.
"Touch her again," I tell him, "and nothing will stop me from finishing the job."
He wipes the blood from his broken nose, gets a hand under himself, and pushes himself up the wall. But there’s a smile working its way back up on his face already. He straightens his cap, and looks at me in triumph.
"You have no idea what you just started, son." He drags his gaze off me towards Lydia standing behind me with her hands hugging herself. "I’ll see you later, Lyddie."
Before either of us can react, he shoulders past me. The restaurant remains silent for a moment, and that’s when I see the phones rising up all around me.
Fuck.
Anastasio approaches and hands me a napkin for me to wipe off the blood from my knuckles.
His jaw is tight as he leans into my ear. "You just fucking strangled a cop in the middle of Soho in front of forty people."
"He had it coming," I snarl.
"Not the problem, boss." He flicks a look at the door the man left through. "We need to go. Now."
But I’m no longer listening to him. My attention is completely focused on Lydia.
She's still hugging herself. And although her chin is still up, there’s nothing that can hide the shaken blank stare in her eyes.
I’m clenching my jaw so fucking hard that I’m going to break my teeth at this rate.
I cross over to her and loop my arm protectively behind her back. "We're leaving,piccola," I say.
She doesn't argue this time, and gives me a small nod. My hand stays against the small of her back as I walk her out past the staring room and to the car.
As soon as we get into the car, my hand grips her chin to turn her jaw towards me. I have wanted to own this woman– to ruin her, mark her, and keep her–since the first time I ever laid eyes on her.
But never before have I thought that my touch might be as soft and gentle as it is right now, even with adrenaline still coursing through my body.
This is new.
There’s an angry red mark on her face from where the man’s hand had touched her. By tomorrow morning, it’ll turn into a nasty bruise.
“Who the fuck was that?” I ask quietly.
She tries to turn away, but I refuse to let her. “None of your business.”
“He dared to touch you.” I lean in. “In public. Ihadto do something.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of that, Nico,” she snaps. “I’m aware of how fucking fond you are of reminding me and the whole damn world about how you fucking own me.”
“He hurt you.”
Her defiance sharpens. “Don’t pretend like he’s the only one.”
“Don’t youevercompare him to me.” My anger starts boiling again, and my grip on her chin tightens just enough.