I turn to meet his deathly stare with a cool, collected gaze. I’m so tired of men pushing themselves on me. "What? Are you deaf as well as blind?" I retort, my voice filling with icy confidence.
As expected of a brute, his face twists with anger, his eyes bulging, and his lips purse into a thin line. The tension in the air mounts with each passing second, and in a sudden yell of fury, he raises his hand at me, aiming for a blow. Reflexively, I raise my arms in a defensive stance, readying myself for the impact.
I close my eyes, waiting for the blow to land, but it never does. In that split second, the situation takes a dramatic turn. A woman screams, and when I open my eyes at the sound, I’m greeted by a shocking sight.
Carlo takes hold of the man by the back of his neck with one hand and twists his other arm behind his back. The man's howls of pain echo through the room.
I watch in horror as Carlo's grip tightens, and the man writhes in agony. Despite the chaos around us, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Carlo. Between this and how he beat up Lucas, there’s no denying Carlo is dangerous and capable of anything. My father’s raw fear when Carlo threatened him is another proof he’s not someone anybody will want to mess with.
For some reason, I don’t feel scared of him. It’s the opposite. I know he’ll never hurt me. This savage side of Carlo is reserved for assholes like Lucas and creeps like this man in the restaurant.
11
CARLO
Isee red.
My grip on the man's arms and neck tightens with every passing second. I saw the way everyone in the bar jumped in shock when I slammed the man on the floor. He’s obviously in pain, his shoulder blades almost disconnected from their sockets, yet he continues swearing at me.
"Let go of me, you motherfucker! I'll kill you!" he spits out. His face and neck are red already, and he’s sweating profusely.
"How dare you raise your hand against a woman. How dare you try to hit my woman!" I growl menacingly.
Without a second thought, I take the glass of cocktail from the waiter's hand and slam it into the man's face. He lets out a pained scream as blood begins to trickle down his forehead. "You dared to hit my woman. Apologize right now!" I demand, pointing to Cara and making sure my eyes scream bloody murder as I glare at the man.
The man's voice is trembling as he apologizes, "I'm sorry. I didn't know she was your woman. I'm sorry."
I slam his face onto the table, and I hear the shrilled gasps of onlookers, but I don't care. I don't want him to apologize to me. I want him to apologize to Cara. She’s the one he wanted to hit. "Apologize to my woman," I demand through gritted teeth, flexing my still-tight grip on his neck.
"Apologize to her, you little bitch, not to me," I say again.
There’s a reason why my men call me “Barbaro.” I’m not above injuring my enemies seriously. Sometimes even permanently.
The man turns in Cara's direction and stutters out his apologies, his voice thick with fear. I like the sorry look on his face. "I'm sorry," he mutters, his eyes darting nervously between Cara and me. "I know I was out of line and shouldn't have acted that way."
"If I ever catch you disrespecting a woman again, especially one who's with me, I promise you death will be a much more appealing option." Finally, I loosen my hold on him. The man nods with a sorry whimper and scurries away, looking like a wounded dog with its tail between its legs.
When the man is a good distance away, I turn to face Cara. My heart is still racing with anger and adrenaline, but the worried look on her face eases my mood. "Are you okay?" I ask, my voice softening as I take her hand in mine. "I won't let anyone hurt you."
I know Cara isn't used to this kind of life, but I won’t ever hesitate to dish out violence to protect her.
We walk out of the restaurant shortly afterward, and I lead Cara to my car. We get inside and she squeezes my hand.
“You know, I never really thought this jealous and possessive side of you exists.”
I give her a small smile, feeling a rush of relief. "I'm glad you don't think I'm a total brute, even though I may be one."
Cara giggles. "No, I think you're just fiercely protective, and I kinda like that about you."
"It's important to me that you feel safe," I say in as much seriousness as I can muster. "I'll always do whatever it takes to protect you."
Cara's grin widens, and she leans in closer to me. "I know you will," she says, her eyes searching my face. "And that's one of the many things I like about you."
"Of course," I return a grin. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
Cara leans over the center console and plants a soft kiss on my cheek. "You're sweet."
"Only for you, baby girl."
