Page 27

Romano’s eyes darted toward me, silently pleading for rescue.

Amanda, however, was still draped over his arm, her manicured fingers gripping him like she had a claim.

And that did not fucking fly with me.

“Amanda.”

My voice cut through the store like a whipcrack, the power behind it making her startle and turn—but not enough to remove her clawed grip from my husband.

Romano wasn’t moving, standing rigid, his lips pressed together like he was restraining himself from throwing her across the room. Behind him, Kingston, Voss, and Jace stood at attention, watching.

I kept my expression blank, my voice even. “I would like it if you would stop touching him without permission.” Politeness first. Always give them a chance.

Amanda’s red lips curled into a smirk. “Oh, he doesn’t mind. Do you, handsome?” She cooed at him, batting her mascara-thickened lashes.

My vision turned red. I growled, low, warning. “Get. Your. Fucking. Hand. Off. Him.”

Amanda’s smirk widened, and she turned around to face me fully, completely unbothered by my apparent rage. “Or what?” she taunted. “I’m allowed to fuck who I want.”

Wrong answer.

I stepped into her space, deliberately ignoring her, looking directly at Romano. “Do you want her to touch you?”

He shakes his head vigorously; His response is instant, sharp, and final. “No.”

She froze. I let my lips curl into a cruel, knowing smile. “Interesting.” Before she could react, I grabbed her wrist, firm but not painful.

Amanda gasped, eyes wide. “What the fuck are you doing? You can’t touch me!”

I let my face smooth into something empty and cold. “Oh? You can do it, but I can’t?”

Her outrage spiked. “What’s it matter to you who I fuck?” she spat. “I know he wants me. We were going to have a quickie in the dressing room. Isn’t that right, darling?”

The laugh that spilled from me was dark, sharp, and meant to wound. “Oh, honey.” With one sharp wrench, I twisted her wrist. The crack echoed through the store.

Amanda’s scream followed a second later, shrill and furious as she crumpled to the ground, clutching her broken wrist.

“That man you’re claiming you were going to fuck?” I knelt beside her, my voice calm, measured, and lethal.

“He’s my husband.”

Her sobs turned to screeches. “He wants me! I don’t care if he’s your husband!”

Finally shaking off his disgusted silence, Romano looked down at her, his usual exuberance nowhere to be found.

“Actually,” he said, his voice eerily blank, “I don’t want to fuck you. I didn’t want you to touch me, but the four no’s I gave you didn’t seem to register.”

Amanda blinked up at him, stunned.

Romano shrugged. “The only reason I didn’t break your wrist myself is because this is my Little Love’s business. Gotta be polite and all.”

Voss was watching me now, adjusting himself, eyes dark with something else entirely.

I pretended not to notice how much that turned me on. Instead, I turned to Rose, who looked more than a little awed and grabbed the store phone from the counter.

“Dial Amanda’s emergency contact,” I instructed. It rang a few times before a man answered, voice exhausted.

“Hello?”