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I was man enough to recognize that they did everything they could to handle the situation as best as possible. Any other outcome could have been far worse.

But that didn't mean I was letting them off the hook.

"I'm taking the car," I said, holding out my hand for the keys.

They were instantly handed over.

"The three of you fucked up. You allowed someone to lay hands on my wife. There's still an opening at the office building cleaning crew. You three will work there as janitors until I can stand the sight of you."

"Yes, boss," they said in unison. Relief washed over their faces.

They were getting off light and they fucking knew it. I should've been taking hands, leaving bullet holes. Alina's safety was the highest priority. But so was her well-being, and I had to get her away from here and back to our penthouse.

Artem waved his hand, telling me to wait, and I replied with a middle finger as I climbed into the driver's seat.

There was no way I was trusting anyone else to drive her.

The ride was silent. When we got back to the hotel, I picked her up out of the seat, holding her to my chest as I brought her into the penthouse.

Her small body curled against my chest, shuddering. She was too frail, too thin, and I had let them get to her.

Alina didn't fight me, she didn't protest. She simply let me carry her, hold her.

That was the part that gutted me.

My strong, defiant little kitten was silent.

She had been quiet before, but even in that silence there was a tension, an air of hostility and defiance.

Alina wasn't the kind of girl who could have her spirit broken, or so I thought.

God knew I relished her fight, her never-fading spirit. The only time she had ever not fought was when she gavein to pleasure seconds before coming. That was the sweetest victory each time.

Now she was quiet, but there was no fight in the air, no anger or resentment. There was no victory in this, only failure.

She was shaken, exhausted, and too raw to pretend otherwise. Those men just took her; they plucked her off the street and interrogated her.

There was no way for me to know what they said. I knew he had hit her in the face, but what else?

Had he touched her? I didn't think so. I got there as fast as I could, but that didn't mean he didn't threaten to.

What had she seen? What had she gone through before I showed up?

I had failed her. Profoundly failed her.

It was my job to make sure nothing like that ever happened. Yet it did. I had men surrounding her, and it still happened.

I could've lost her.

If they didn't want to talk to her, if they just wanted her dead, then they could've?—

The thought sank deep, twisting like a knife in my gut.

She was my wife, and I had let my dark, twisted, fucked-up world get too close. I had allowed my enemies to touch what was mine.

That would never happen again. I couldn't allow it to happen again.

Not even if it cost me my life. I didn't give a fuck if I had to claw my way back from hell itself. I would protect her.