Page 111 of Handsome Devil

“The window’s not even open!”

“That’s the best part.”

Thrash.

Thrash.

Thrash.

Finally, when the man was on his last few breaths, I unlatched the window’s lock and tossed him out.

Silence blanketed the room for a moment before Gia opened her mouth again.

“Do you think he’s dead?”

“No, sweetheart. Of course not.”

He was definitely dead. And in at least fourteen different pieces. But there really wasn’t any need to distress her further. I potentially killed two of Callaghan’s men today. I hoped it got the message across.

Shit. Now I had to clean this entire place of her fingerprints and mine.

It just became one hell of a crime scene.

Swiveling to my wife, I found her perched on the edge of the bed, trembling. Her hair was a mess, her makeup streaked withtears. I wanted to gather her in my arms and comfort her, but I was also beyond pissed that she’d put herself in danger again.

“How did you get here?”

“Th-they took my bracelet. The one my dad gave me,” she hiccupped, ignoring my question, rubbing her wrist absentmindedly. More tears slid down her cheeks, and she hugged herself. “They took my one last keepsake of everything good and happy andnormal.”

My heart sank. Fuck knew normal and happy weren’t in the cards for her with me.

“It’s not what I asked,” I said aloofly, feeling something…something. Inadequate. “How’d you get here, Gia?”

If she went into a bedroom with another man willingly, I was going to do something drastic. Not to her, but I could see myself setting the entire city on fire. When we weren’t in it, of course.

She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I went to the kitchen to find Cal to vent. These two men waited around the corner in the hallway and dragged me here. I didn’t see them coming. Once the door was shut, they called someone downstairs and told them to wait outside the back door.”

I glanced at the unconscious man at my feet. He looked pretty dead, or at least too badly injured to answer any questions. I rolled him with the tip of my loafer and crouched to put my fingers on his neck. Shallow pulse, no reflexes.

“They came close this time,” Gia whispered.

“Whose fault is that?” I tipped my head up, tapping my thigh as I counted crystal raindrops on the chandelier. Three hundred and seven. Odd number. How could they?

Gia stood up. “Only in your twisted mind is any of this my fault. You brought this on us. You and your stupid revenge plot.”

“Stupid?” I arched an eyebrow. “You got my father sent to prisonandare responsible for his death, and we haven’t evenproperly discussed your role in this mess yet. Don’t you find that interesting?”

She flinched. I knew she had apologized, but she was still cagey about the details of what happened that night. A little fucking clarity would’ve gone a long way.

She opened her mouth. Clamped it shut. I was surprised and proud of her for hardly paying attention to the dying man at our feet. This was definitely progress.

Finally, she said, “You touched another woman.”

“You touched another man,” I countered.

She was jealous. I wanted her to admit it. To own it. To understand the implications of it.

She pinched her lower lip, staring at the carpet. “I don’t want you to touch anyone else ever again.”