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"He was so far away. How can you be sure?" I asked, pulling back to allow him to lead me toward the mouth of the alley.

"You watched me beat a man with a golf club, but my marksmanship is what's surprising?" He chuckled.

"It's not funny, Joey." I scolded, swatting his arm. "What if he's still alive? He could… What if he goes to the cops?"

"Sweetheart, gang members don't go to the cops. But if it makes you feel better, I can go down there and put two more in him to be sure." He offered, turning toward me and brushing his thumb across my jaw. "Would that help?"

I pressed my lips together and winced at the pain in my busted lip before responding. "No, I think I just want to go home."

"Let's get you home, then." Joey replied.

I slipped my hand into his, letting him lead me back to the car. Something about being in the vehicle left me feeling safer already. I breathed a sigh of relief as I looked out the window. Just as we drove past the shop, I caught sight of Benson, frowning at his phone as his fingers flew over the screen.

My phone chimed in my pocket, and I slid it free, expecting a tirade from my ex. Instead, the words on my screen caused my blood to run cold.

Don't let them come between us. You were promised to me. You are mine.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Victoria

I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, not wanting Joey to see the text from my stalker. My eyes drifted to the scenery passing by as he drove us back toward the manor. Numbness settled into my veins as I watched Southside pass us by. I was vaguely aware of Joey's voice as he called someone to clean up the body we'd left behind in the alley, but it wasn't enough to pull me from my reverie.

My mind whirred with the possibility that Benson was behind everything. My attempted kidnapping outside the boutique, the creepy texts that seemed to grow more possessive and impatient, the destruction of my office, and the twisted gift left behind. It didn't add up to the information Joey had beaten out of the man in the basement of the guy's house. That man had claimed someone named Rinaldo had been behind the gala fire and the attempt to nab me there. While the name had been familiar, I couldn't quite place why, and it didn't stop my mind from latching on to the possibility that the events were unrelated.

The more I thought about the texts I'd received, the more likely it became that Benson was behind them. He'd always been possessive and controlling. It was why I'd left him two months before my mother's death. She couldn't bear to see how he'd torn me down over our three-year relationship and convincedme that it would only get worse if I stayed. I couldn't help but wonder if my alcohol-fueled lapse in judgment that night at Temptat!on when I let myself forget all the awful shit he'd done and danced with him had anything to do with his renewed interest in possessing me.

A memory tickled at the edges of my conscience, triggered by how Benson insisted I belonged to him before Joey intervened. We'd been together for two years at that point. Two years of me being on his arm at every major social event. Two years of plastering a fake smile on my face as he spoke for and over me, but never to me. We were at yet another event hosted by his father, and I made the mistake of correcting something Benson had said about me not working once we were married. When we returned to his apartment that night, all hell broke loose.

"You made me look like a fool, Victoria." He hissed, his face mottled with rage. "This nonsense about continuing to work for the center has to stop."

"Fuck you, Benson. You know I'm not giving that up. It's important to me and my mom. For you to think you could just snap your fingers and I'd become your Stepford wife is ridiculous."

He was on me in a flash. His fingers gripped my chin tight enough to bruise as he backed me up against a wall.

"You're going to be my wife. You realize how lucky that makes you?" spittle flew from his mouth, splattering on my face. "You should be over the fucking moon that I'm willing to marry you, Victoria. Nobody, and I meannobody,else could ever want you. There isn't a man in his right mind that would want a pretentious, overweight, female like you."

"Benson, you're hurting me," I cried out, my hands grasping his wrists, trying to pull his hand from my face.

He only squeezed harder, his eyes narrowing in barely contained rage as he brought his face so close to mine our noses nearly touched. "You're only worth is what I give you, Victoria. You are mine, and you should be thrilled with that. Instead, you chose to make a fool of me, telling my father's business partner that you intend to work after we're married when you should be at home, keeping me happy."

"Let go of me," I interrupted.

"No. Not until you understand your fucking place." He hissed, his other hand clamping down on one of my wrists and wrenching my hand away from the one clutching my face. "You're fucking worthless. I've told you over and over that you need to go on a diet, you ignore me. I've told you that you need to keep your mouth shut when we attend public events. You fucking ignore me. Did you think there wouldn't be consequences? That I'd continue to take you out and let you make me look bad? I should have left your pathetic ass at home, where you belong."

He finally released me and pushed away from the wall, his chest heaving as his angry eyes kept me pinned in my place.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, letting my gaze fall to the floor.

"Are you? Or are you just sorry that you're being called out?" He spat. "Because from where I'm standing, it doesn't seem like you actually give a shit about being a worthy partner for the only man that willeverlove you."

Tears welled in my eyes, and I wrapped my arms around myself as I stared at the floor. He was right. Of course, he was. I wasn't like Tiffany, who had men and women alike pining after her and wanting to bask in her presence. I'd been the girl who faded into the background all my life until Benson decided that our childhood friendship should be more.

As if sensing my shift, he closed the distance between us again.

"Hey," He murmured, pulling me to his chest and rubbing his hands along my back. "It's going to be alright. You know I can't stay mad at you."

"I know." I sniffled. "I didn't mean to make you angry."