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“It’s nothing personal,” I quip, yanking his hair. His nose is busted up, a deep gash on his eyebrow. That’s got to hurt. Oh well. “But I can’t have you fucking my future wife.”

“Future—wait, what?”

I punch his jaw, the crunch of bone underneath as majestic as a chorus of angels overhead. It feels good to hit something. To let that inner beast out and take everyone down. Rage simmers under my skin, and my nerves dance as relief surges through me.

I’m a man possessed, and I don’t hide it now. I lap up the power, the fury, as if it’s ambrosia, and I won’t waste a drop.

Crumpling, his hands cradle his disjointed jaw. “What are you doing?” he cries. “I think you broke it.”

Oh, it’s definitely broken.

“Protecting what’s mine.” Shrugging, I grab his neck, tossing him like a lifeless doll. His limbs smack into the far wall, a crack appearing. “If anyone gets to fuck Valentina, it’s me.”

Standing over him, I hold the rack overhead, body stretched out. I wink once.

“I’ll send your regards.”

Stomping my foot into his face, his bones break. Tiny little splinters and full-on shards pierce my heel. I do it again and again as pieces of flesh and blood splatter the wall and my legs.

Exhaling, I blink away the haze and grab paper towels. With a bit of cleaner, I wipe the majority of the blood off me and toss it into the trash. Leaning over Tommaso, I grab Purple’s card. I’ll return it to her—I don’t want her stranded.

I expect guilt, but there’s nothing. My conscience is clear after disposing of a threat to my girl.

Locking the door, I tighten the bunny mask as I retrace my steps. The opaque room is still closed, but there’s an entrance at its side. I lift the handle—unlocked, thank God.

It’s a small, sterile box inside. White floor. A somewhat torture-like chair with straps hanging from the armrests. A rack of sex toys behind it.

“Okay, those look fun.”

She jolts, spinning at my voice.

Shit. Words escape me. She wears a short leather schoolgirl’s skirt, and a studded matching bra. Her wild, dark strands curl around her shoulders, her delicate, feminine bunny mask covering her beautiful eyes. Those long legs are hidden by a pair of thigh-high boots, and I just about come on the spot.

Some other guy almost got to see this. Feel her.

My blood boils.

Striding over to her, my hand catches her jaw, pressing her cheeks together.

Her hands move, and I grab them. I’m studying American Sign Language for her—but I’m not fluent. Yet. Give me another week, and I’m sure I will be by then.

I scan her head; her implants are hidden behind the leather mask. “You don’t recognize me?”

She pauses, then shakes her head. So, her implants are on. Good to know.

I could throw a fucking fit and demand answers. How dare she give herself—her body, a piece of her—to some other fucking dick when I’m right here. I’m willing to be used by her in any way she wants.

But that’s not really fair, is it? She doesn’t know me. And it’d be hard to explain to a stranger why she has to do this—why she has to give something away that her father promised to another guy. It wouldn’t end well.

Fuck.

It burns me alive that someone was this close to having her. That someone would be the first she’s ever had; he’d feel her come undone. Tasting her, watching her come on my fingers was a treat. This would sustain my dreams until I died, old and gray, in my bed.

I bank the rage. There’s a time for it, and I will make sure she feels how pissed off I am. At how disregarded I feel—how she chose someone else over me—but that’s not for tonight.

Tonight is for her. If she wants to fuck and lose her virginity, so Freddie is no longer a viable option, then we’ll do that. But me—only me.

“Where do you want me?”