A Worthy Opponent (Wicked Villains 3)

And the fact that she’s threatening one of my people who is simply doing his job.

“Put the knife down.” I hold her gaze as I say it. “Now.”

She bares her teeth at me. “Make me.”

“Oh baby, you do not want me to do that.” Wife or not, I can’t let her undermine me in front of an audience. I start for her. Her eyes go wider yet, and the little asshole takes a swipe at me. It’s a good strike, fast and low. If I were anyone else, she might have actually succeeded in gutting me.

I grab her wrist and wrench her arm away from both of us, holding it wide so she doesn’t cut herself by accident. “Drop it.”

“Die in a fire.”

My patience, already worn thin by too much stress over too short a period of time, snaps. I twist her wrist, and the blade clatters to the ground. She’s still fighting because of course she’s still fucking fighting. The woman will come back swinging as long as she draws breath and, while I admire that part of her as much as the rest, it doesn’t change the fact that I cannot let her challenge me. Not like this. Not when I’m holding on to the power in this territory by my fucking fingertips.

I grab Tink and haul her over my shoulder. She’s kicking and punching and hissing like a pissed off cat, but I ignore her as I turn and stalk back through the building to the elevator. I ignore her demands to be put down the entire ride back to my suite. I stalk to the bed and toss her onto it, careful to ensure she lands on her ass in the middle of it.

“You dickwad!”

I’m on her before she has a chance to do more than push up onto her hands. I press my palm to the center of her chest and keep her from sitting up farther, but I don’t force her down. I’m not even really holding her down, just exerting enough pressure to stop her from rushing the exit again. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You don’t get to ask me that after manhandling me like I’m some kind of … I don’t even know what! It’s unforgivable!”

She’s worked herself into a frenzy, and under different circumstances, I might be able to dredge up some sympathy for how fucked her life’s become. A part of her has to see recent events as representation of her being right back where she started—the woman of a territory leader. A pawn.

I can’t afford sympathy right now, because I am a territory leader. If I was just a man, the rules would be different, but I am so much more. The responsibility of it threatens to break me on the best of days and this is hardly that. I press her back to the bed and try to keep my voice tight and contained when all I want to do is roar in fury and frustration. “You pulled a knife on my man.”

“He wouldn’t get out of my way.”

As if that makes it okay. I glare down at her. “Don’t pull that twisted logic bullshit. Not with me. You are my wife—”

“Yeah, you keep reminding me. Maybe you should tattoo your name on my ass.”

“Don’t tempt me.” The threat is heavy in my voice. My name on her ass would satisfy a primal part of me that I don’t make a habit of letting out to play. I’ve learned better than others there’s little this world gives me it won’t take away again. Food. Shelter. Even family. It’s all temporary when it comes right down to it. If you don’t have power, someone else who does have power will determine if they’re in the mood to allow your very survival. I’ve been the former. Now I’m the latter, and I’ll fight tooth and nail to never go back again. If it was only me …

But it’s not. It hasn’t been since I took over the territory and it never will be again.

Losing my place as its ruler means hundreds of people at the mercy of a monster like Peter. If not him, then another who’s willing to kill their way to the top. I’ve done unforgivable things to ensure I remain on top. Things that have stained my soul in a way I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from.

When I was a kid, I didn’t have a choice. I was born into this world, and I did what it took to survive. Same as Peter and my father, when it comes right down to it. When we were kids, everything was outside of our control The choices we make as adults? We have no one to blame but ourselves. I have no one to blame but myself.