Page 129 of Carved Obsession

“Your fucking gambling addiction is not my goddamn problem. Get it through your thick skull, Bernard. I am not giving you any more stones!” Scarlet’s yell is a caress over my soul.

“Just...I’ll give you the damn divorce, Scarlet. Just give me stones from your next few jobs, and I’ll sign the papers.” His harsh tone disguises the desperation. Not very well, though.

“Where will it end, huh? You have a problem, and I may not be a gambler, but I bet that thisarrangementwill never end. You’ll keep stealing from your business, you’ll keep going into debt, and you’ll keep harassing me for precious stones. It. Will. Never. End!”

“For fuck’s sake, Scarlet! Just give me what I need. They’ll fucking kill me if I don’t repay the debt.”

“Nah, I’m good. Feel free to kill me, then take it from your business account. Again. I’m sure your brothers won’t mind.” The last line is sprinkled with so much sarcasm.

“Motherfucker,” Alvaro whispers next to me.

I raise my hand and signal everyone to go in as Bernard shouts and rages inside. As I storm through the door, I spot Scarlet tied to a chair. When she sees me, her face lights up like a thousand suns shone their rays on her, and her soon-to-be-dead ex recoils in surprise a few feet away. More at his brother than us.

The man looks wrong...red, bloodshot eyes. Either he’s on drugs or he hasn’t slept in a week.

I look Scarlet up and down, searching for spots of blood on her pastel-purple jumpsuit as the tension in my forehead seems to bleed out of me. When I reach her eyes, they’re soft, strangely cheerful, with a touch of sweet madness as she quirks her lips.

“I’m not hurt, Carter.” She answers the question I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

I nod, then turn my attention to her ex.

“Do you remember what I told you last time you dared touch Scarlet?” My voice doesn’t quite sound like my own—a harsh, guttural tone as I stalk toward my target.

He reluctantly steps back, holding a knife up like he’s about to slice some damn bread. Fucking pathetic. When Maddox goes to untie Scarlet, the asshole attempts a step toward her, but one growl from me and he stalls, knife tensing in his grip.

“Answer the fucking question,” I demand. “Do you remember what I told you?”

He nods his head, the movement staggered as his gaze trembles.

“Good. Then you know what follows.”

The moment unfolds in a flurry. His eyes bulge as an animalistic panic overtakes him. A shriek cuts through the tension beside me as his arm swings out, knife glinting in the harsh light, aimed directly at me. But his gaze shifts, drawn past me, to where a flash of wild, walnut-brown hair barrels forward. A fierce blur of fury rushes at him head-on. She’s fast. Pure defiance and rage leave us no time to react as she tackles Bernard to the ground.

Her rage would make her look unorganized if it wasn’t for the strategic movements. She forces the knife out of his hand and swipes it away before she plants her knees on his forearms.

The first swing of her fist lands with a blood-curdling crack, and Bernard’s nose explodes as it bends.

“What a stupid fucking woman I’ve been.” She punctuates each word with another strike to the man’s face. “First, to chooseyou!” Another swing to his ear makes the man cry out in agony. “Second, to give you the impression that I’m fucking weak.”

She wraps her hands around his throat, the muscles in her slender arms showing just how powerful she built herself to be as she holds the flailing man down.

“Carter,” she says through gritted teeth, and I’m right there, hand gently gripping her shoulder. “Take me away before I kill him.”

Bending down, I wrap my hands under her armpits, and with some resistance, I lift her off of him, bringing her to my chest as I step away. She circles my waist and looks up at me with a chaste smile that seems both victorious and defeated.

“Thank you for not stopping me,” she says.

I wanted to. A primal need, which lay dormant within me until I met her, urged me to protect her. To keep her away from harm. But logic sneaked through. Scarlet is who she is because of the strength she honed all on her own. I won’t treat her like a damsel in distress. Not unless she wants me to.

I plant a kiss on her forehead before turning to Alvaro Camora.

He steps forward as his brother peels himself off the ground. “You’ve been busy, brother. Stealing from the family business to feed your own addiction. More than one, considering how you look.”

“It’s not like that,” Bernard says. “It’s fine. I can pay it all back and—”

“And our reputation? The people you owe money to know you’re a Camora. What a fucking disgrace you turn us into when we’re trying to honor Dad’s legacy! Build up the business he left us!” With each sentence, Alvaro’s tone grows louder, anger streaming through the vowels.

“It’s my business too. I can still—”