As much as my soul is clamoring for his blood, murdering Adora’s father in front of her would inflict even deeper scars on her already wounded soul.
I care if she’s hurting, I realize with a jolt. Her heart has become precious to me. I release Agnello with a shove that sends him stumbling forward. He catches himself against a table, breathing hard, cradling his elbow.
I step between him and Adora, positioning myself as a physical barrier. My body language is clear. You’ll have to go through me to get to her.
Agnello straightens, his face twisted with rage and humiliation. “Get out of my house.”
“Make me.” The words hang in the air, challenging him to pick on someone his own size.
Agnello’s face contorts with rage. “You think you can walk into my house and give me orders?”
“Think I can?” I ask, my voice dropping to something deadly. “I know I can. If you try hurting your daughter again, you won’t live long enough to regret it.”
I step closer, letting him see the promise of violence in my eyes.
“She’s mine now,” I tell him. “My bride. My woman. Touch her again, and I’ll kill you.”
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