Page 38 of Ruthless Sinner
It was even worse when it was the girl I loved.
The revelation didn’t hit me as hard as it should have, because I was a little busy seeing red. I strode over, Vincent’s quiet warning drowned out by the roaring in my ears.
“Watch where you’re putting your hands,” I snarled, grabbing the guy’s wrist.
“Oh, what, can’t handle your girl talking to another man?” the guy snapped back at me. “We were just having a friendly conversation.”
His smirk made me want to do something drastic. “How about you and my fist have a friendly conversation?” I shot back.
The guy cocked his eyebrow at me, daring me to do it.
Oh, I was more than happy to oblige him.
Maybe I wasn’t a planner like my brother, or a fancy ass lawyer, but I sure as hell could throw a punch, and I knew which way the guy would dodge going by the way he shifted his weight. Always watch the hips—the hips’ll show where the person planned to head next.
I swung hard, expecting the guy’s dodge backwards, then tucked my arm back at the last minute and swung with my other arm. He was completely caught off-guard, stupid bastard, and when I sent my fist into his jaw he went down like a sack of fucking bricks, out cold.
Everyone stared at me.
Oh, shit.
“Marco!” My father’s voice could’ve cut through steel. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
I straightened out my suit. “Just maintaining law and order, Father,” I said.
Not even I would dare call my father ‘Dad’ or some variation in public.
My father was not amused. He turned to one of the men standing by—this one I recognized. He was a Petrov. I didn’t know which one. It wasn’t my job to keep all of them straight, that was Vincent’s fun role. No, my job was just to recognize faces so that I would know if I was in trouble.
This guy, pretty sure he went by ‘Alex’ since most of ‘em did just to fuck with the rest of us, was one of the Petrov lieutenants. Of course the old man who owned it all couldn’t be bothered to come to the wedding himself, so he sent a couple of his higher-ranking guys so that we wouldn’t be too offended to use the excuse to attack.
“My apologies,” my father said, while I ground my teeth. “Such behavior will, of course, be dealt with.”
To my surprise, I felt Marla step up beside me. “Marco didn’t start it,” she said.
I had to keep myself from gaping at her. Standing up to the Petrovsandmy father? All right, so maybe Marla was a good match for my brother after all. She had a spine of steel, I could say that much.
“Thissoldatoof course,” Marla said, gesturing at the unconscious man on the ground, “was making unwanted advances towards my friend. Marco stepped in to defend her. He was goaded into it.”
Both my father and the lieutenant started talking ferociously at the same moment, obviously both berating Marla, but Marla simply hissed back at the lieutenant in Russian. Whatever she said, it made the guy pale a little. I hoped she’d just told him she’d cut off his balls.
“Now.” Marla smoothed her hands over the skirt of her wedding dress. “Perhaps we can dispense with any more unpleasantness at my wedding.”
There was a hint of a threat in there and I was again impressed.
There were murmured apologies, although judging by the glare my father shot me, I wasn’t going to be off the hook for long. The moment this wedding reception was over I’d have my feet to the fire for my behavior.
“Men.” Marla’s lips quirked upwards into a small, amused smile. “The moment you get all angry because of some feminine thing they back off like you’re practicing witchcraft.”
“Thank you,” I told her honestly. “Welcome to the family.”
“The Petrovs are just sore that my Vince didn’t choose one of them.”
I grinned at her, then turned to see how Kennedy took this whole thing. She’d probably tell me that she’d been able to handle herself just fine, thanks, and I’d retort that didn’t mean I was going to really leave her in the lurch.
After all, I’d brought her here. It was only fair that I keep the circling wolves at bay. What kind of guy would I paint myself as if I just left her to fend for herself? Everyone would know that I didn’t really care about her. It wasn’t about her ability to defend herself, it was about my willingness to stick up for her.
Not that anything in the damn world could’ve stopped me from sticking up for her. I was quickly realizing, with Kennedy, that I was a real jealous bastard.
