Chapter 121: I’m gonna kill her.

Lysander’s POV

I watch my wife stomp toward the restroom. Her shoulders are stiff, her steps are sharp, and if the way she swings her hips is any indication, she’s two seconds away from kicking a hole through the nearest wall.

I smile.

She’s pissed off.

I don’t know why the hell I’m here. I have absolutely no reason to be sitting in an ice cream shop, watching my wife eat dessert with the enthusiasm of a child.

I have a business to run, enemies to deal with, and a fucking bullet wound in my shoulder.

Yet here I am.

Why? Because my day has been a complete disaster, and apparently, I’ve decided that if I’m going to be miserable, my wife should be miserable with me.

As they say, misery loves company.

I lean back in my chair, careful not to put too much pressure on my injured shoulder. The pain is manageable, but the blood soaking into my shirt is becoming increasingly annoying.

Jeremiah is going to have a fucking field day when he finds out I left the aftermath of a shootout to chase after my wife.

My wanders somewhere...

To my office, to the woman who was on her knees in front of me sucking me off.

I close my eyes briefly and swear under my breath.

Fuck.

I won’t admit it to Nerissa, but I regret it.

I regret letting that woman suck me off in my office.

I’d been frustrated and i wanted relief so I’d allowed it.....even though the entire time, I’d been thinking about someone else.

Her.

I wanted it to be Nerissa on her knees in front of my desk. I wanted her looking up at me with those defiant eyes while I tangled my fingers in her hair and fucked her mouth until she stopped insulting me long enough to catch her breath.

I wanted her.

Not the woman.....not anyone else.

My wife.

I drag a hand down my face. This is becoming a problem, a fucking enormous problem.

Because I know what Nerissa thinks of me. She made that abundantly clear when she slapped me that day. She still remembers every ugly word I’ve thrown at her, and she has no intention of forgiving me just because I decided I don’t like the thought of another man touching her.

And yet, the sight of that old man patting her head nearly made me put a bullet through his skull.

Pathetic...Absolutely fucking pathetic.

"If that scowl deepens any farther, it’ll mar that pretty face of yours forever."

I open my eyes to find Victoria winking at me as she settles into the seat opposite mine.

Because the universe has decided that I haven’t suffered enough today.

"Better than what I’ll do to your face if you ever touch my wife again,"

Victoria’s eyes widen. Then she grins.

"Did you two exchange vows I’m not aware of? Long-life vows, perhaps? I thought this was an arranged marriage." She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Anyone who can see beyond their own nose can see how much you both loathe each other. So I assumed she was fair game."

"Semantics. You know better than to even think about touching her.

I’d already been in a dark mood, and her presence isnt helping.

I have seen Victoria in action with women. She’s charming when she wants to be, shameless when she’s bored, and capable of seducing someone before they’ve even realized they’ve been flirted with.

I know her well enough to recognize when she’s playing.

And I’d been furious when I saw her sitting with Nerissa, holding her hand and kissing her forehead.

Fucking furious.

Hell, Victoria has a point. Nerissa and I hate each other. Our marriage was arranged to serve a purpose, not because either of us woke up one morning dreaming of spending the rest of our lives together.

My wife is stubborn, infuriating, and determined to challenge me at every opportunity. She’d probably rather swallow glass than admit she gives a damn about me.

I know all of this, I know our marriage isn’t the fairy tale my mother would like it to be.

But none of that seems to dilute the feral possessiveness that takes hold of me whenever another person gets too close to Nerissa.

I don’t understand it, I don’t fucking like it and I certainly don’t intend to explain it to Victoria.

She must read the seriousness in my expression because her teasing smile softens slightly.

Then she places her right hand over her heart and raises the other.

"I, Victoria, swear I won’t touch Nerissa from here on out."

Her lips twitch.

"Unless she asks me to."

She smiles innocently while I briefly consider how furious and heartbroken my sister would be if I killed her best friend.

Isabella and Victoria have been inseparable for as long as I can remember. Victoria has practically been part of our family since childhood.

I’ve watched her grow up and at this point, she’s practically my sister, too. Unfortunately, she’s also a pain in my fucking ass.

That’s how she knows she can get away with messing with me.....she knows exactly how far to push before I snap, and she enjoys every second of it.

"Swear to God, Victoria," I warn. "You’re walking a fine fucking line."

"Relax, brother. I’m not moving in on your territory."

"I’m not your brother."

"Sure, sweetheart."

I glare at her.

She ignores me.

"But seriously, Lysander." Her voice turns a little more thoughtful. "You should think about it. She doesn’t really know anyone in the family. Us ladies have to stick together. And I can only imagine how isolated I’d feel if I were her, all alone in another country."

I scoff.

"She knows plenty of people. Isabella and my mother, for starters. I’m certain she doesn’t need your help."

"Having two people to talk to doesn’t mean she has a support system."

I open my mouth, then close it.

I hate it when people make reasonable points while I’m trying to be angry.

Victoria tilts her head.

"She’s your wife, Lysander. Whether you like it or not, she’s part of this family now. You can’t expect her to spend her life locked away with you and your bad attitude."

"I don’t lock her away."

When Victoria’s eyebrows climb, I reconsider my words.

Fine. I have security follow her around. I insist on knowing where she is at all times.

But that’s different.

It’s security and common fucking sense.

Victoria’s smile irks me as she pushes her chair back and rises.

"I just think you should let her associate more," she says, smoothing down her clothes. "Who knows? She might end up liking me more than you."

"Unlikely."

"Oh, please. I’m charming, thoughtful, an excellent listener and I eat really well, too."

She wiggles her eyebrows.

The innuendo lands exactly where she intends it to.

And my face darkens at the image in my head, of Nerissa all laid out and Victoria eating her out.

Victoria throws her head back and laughs.

Then she turns and saunters away, leaving me alone with my wounded shoulde and ruined afternoon.

I watch Victoria disappear behind the counter.

Yeah. It’s official.

Killing my sister’s childhood friend won’t be so bad.