The woman tries to look at me, but the grip my brother has on her hair doesn’t make it easy. Her blue eyes meet mine and I feel something unlock in my chest. It’s powerful and I almost stagger back a step but manage to stay in place. The curves of her body are barely covered in the lingerie she’s wearing.
Fuck. She’s glorious.
It’s not easy to do, but I tear my gaze from her delectable body. When I look into her eyes again, I can see the fear she’s trying to hide. I don’t know how I fucking know, but this woman is meant to be mine.
And I’m going to do whatever is necessary to claim her.
My brother’s hands being on her isn’t a problem. I’ll wash his touch from her body. Once she’s in my arms, the past won’t matter. There will be sweet absolution when I make her mine in all ways.
But first, I have to deal with my little brother who, clearly, hasn’t grown the fuck up. He’s still treating women like they’re his playthings, and he always had a violent streak when it comes to his toys. My lip curls in disgust because he never understood how sacred women are, or how our true purpose is to make sure they’re protected.
Father made sure the lesson stuck with me.
He should have done the same with Romeo.
When I look the woman over, the bruises on her delicate skin cause a fury born of brimstone to ignite in my gut. It takes me two strides to get to them and then I’m gripping the back of Romeo’s neck like a stray fucking dog.
“You better get your fucking hands off her right now,” I hiss the words. Each one hits like a whip, and I watch with satisfaction as he untangles his fingers from the woman’s hair and loosens his grip on her. I shake him like a rag doll and he releases her. “Better.”
With a flick of my wrist, I throw Romeo toward the other side of the room. He gets up, his eyes trained on me and filled with hatred. I’m not the least bit surprised.
“What the fuck, Angelo?” Romeo looks over my shoulder at the woman, but I shift and cut off his line of sight. “You know how it is around here. These bitches think they run the roost if you don’t put them in their place.”
“I’m,” the woman starts to say something, but then clears her throat and I can almost feel the way she’s gathering her internal strength and courage.
When I look back at her, her lips are parted as if she’s about to speak. Then her blue eyes meet mine and her mouth clamps shut as her lips thin.
Good fucking girl.
I wink at her before turning my attention back to Romeo.
If it were anyone else, they’d already be dead. The women who work here should be safe and Romeo should be the one to ensure it happens. He shouldn’t be the man who inflicts pain on them.
“We were just having a bit of fun,” Romeo starts to back pedal when I don’t say anything in response to his bullshit. “She likes it rough.” His lip curls while he gives her a look that I’m sure he believes is suave. It falls short, way fucking short. “Isn’t that right, Dove?”
Dove.
Her name almost slips past my lips as a whispered promise of what is to come. But showing Romeo even a hint of weakness right now would be a mistake. I keep my eyes pinned on my brother, daring him to make a move and give me an excuse to escalate the situation.
“Yes,” Dove’s voice is shaky, “that’s right.”
She’s lying.
And I can’t say I blame her, even though I hate it. I never want her to lie to me. But this is a unique situation.
I won’t punish her. This time.
When I glance back at her, I arch an eyebrow, the challenge clear with a single look. Dove’s already milky skin pales. It would make me chuckle if I didn’t hate the thought of her being afraid of me so damn much.
For some fucked up reason, my brother assumes my silence is agreement. It’s not.
“This bitch is always trying to climb on my dick. She thinks it’ll make me look the other way when she doesn’t meet the expectations when it comes to clients.” The way he tries to sound like a businessman, while denigrating one of his employees has me seething.
If he doesn’t respect the women who work here, how can he expect the clients to. Unless he doesn’t care. Which is what I’ve been afraid of. I don’t even have to look back at Dove to see the bruises he’s left behind in my mind’s eye.
“Dove,” I rumble her name, “did you willingly come in here with my brother? Do you like it when he leaves bruises on your body?”
“Yes,” she murmurs her answer.
