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“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be trying to score with someone else after I was already late. I’ll head down once we’re done here.” He leaned back, wiping his sweaty palms on his slacks.

“I don’t give a shit if you want to score, get lucky, or get your dick wet. What you do with that nasty thing is none of my business, but when you mention her, it becomes mine.” He side-eyed me, still trying to look at her as I spoke. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

His head snapped towards me, and I noticed an expression I knew all too well…Fear.

I leaned forward, my voice low and firm as I locked eyes with him. "My wife is off-limits to anyone but me, do you understand?" The tension in the room was palpable, and I could feel the intensity of my own words vibrating in the air. There was an unmistakable edge of possessiveness that laced my tone.

“Your wife, huh?” He chuckled.

“I said, do you understand me?!” I demanded, slamming my fist on the table as it rattled beneath me. My men stepped forward, ready to intervene, but the second I shook my head, they returned to their positions.

“Oh, I do, but answer me this—if she is your wife then where’s her wedding ring?” He tapped his finger against his non-existent lips, questioning me.

My eyes locked on her ring finger and there it was… Bare. No wedding band in sight.

“So, no ring means fair game, right?”

Bastard.

That was my breaking point. A surge of adrenaline coursed through me, and before I knew it, my hands gripped the edge of the table, flipping it violently across the room with a crash that echoed like a thunderclap. The path to Rox was clear, and I moved swiftly, each step fuelled by an uncontainable fury. In an instant, my fingers clamped around his neck, the skin beneath my grip hot and pulsing. His eyes widened, round and glassy, as my hold constricted, cutting off his breath and reflecting the intensity of the moment.

“My wife will never be fair game!” I hissed through clenched teeth. “She belongs to me and me alone.” I declared, my voice steady and cold, my words slicing through the tension like a blade. He wheezed and sputtered, struggling to draw a breath. I leaned in closer, my gaze unyielding. “Now, I’m going to ask you one more time, do you understand me?!”

“Y-yes, I u-understand,” he choked out, his ringed fingers clawing at my wrist.

Once I was satisfied, I released him. My eyes never left his beady gaze.

“Please accept my apology, Lorenzo. I truly had no idea,” he spluttered as he rubbed his neck.

“Yeah, well, now you do.” I smoothed down my dishevelled shirt. “Make it known that Anastacia Fedorov is now Anastacia Ricci, and if anyone lays a finger on her, I’ll torture them in ways they’d never be able to think up themselves.”

“You married Victor Fedorov’s daughter?” he asked, again, not realising who she truly was.

“I did, but as I said, she’s a Ricci as of today.”

“Let me get this straight—it’s your wedding night, and you’re here? Doing business with me?” He tsked, taken aback. After hearing it, I realised how shitty it sounded.

“Yeah, but I’m done now, and so is she.” I said, knocking back the whiskey Gino handed me.

“Lorenzo, I apologise again, and I hope this doesn’t affect our working relationship.” He sheepishly smiled.

"Our working relationship will be just fine as long as you keep your eyes and hands off what's mine.” I handed him my empty glass as he nodded. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to pay my wife a little visit. Gino will see you out.” I didn't wait for him to respond. There was no point. I strode out of the private room, down the spiral staircase, and onto the crowded dance floor.

It didn’t take me long to find her. I would have spotted her anywhere. I watched her sensually move her body to the music with each step I took. The thought of wrapping her ponytail around my fist while slamming into her tight pussy taunted me as my cock strained against the constraints of my suit pants. Her hands slid seductively over every inch of her body, sending me into some sort of trance. I shook myself out of it quickly enough, remembering that she was just a pawn in my game.

Her intoxicating scent filled my senses as I slowly invaded her personal space. She was completely oblivious to me being there, which made my next move all the more sweeter. I slid my arm around her waist from behind, securing her body to mine and bringing my lips to her ear so I’d be heard over the music.

“Enjoying yourself, wife?” I whispered as I felt a gasp leave her lips, her heart racing faster than what her dancing had caused.

I stole a glance at her friends who were somewhere between shock and drunken happiness.

“Don’t worry, I’m her husband,” I assured them, playing the part all too well.

“We’ll grab another drink and leave you both to it.” They giggled.

“Your drinks are on the house. Just tell them Lorenzo sent you, and there should be no issues.” And with that, they departed, leaving us alone.

"Where is your ring, Ana?" I asked, my voice a tense whisper as I struggled to keep my composure. I teased her bare finger with my own. Each second that passed without an answer only fuelled the heat rising in my chest.