I glared at him, refusing to let him see me cry.

“You’re a monster,” I said, my voice shaking despite my best efforts.

“I am a businessman,” Marcus corrected, setting his glass down on a side table.

He stood up and walked toward me.

His leather shoes made soft thuds on the oriental rug.

He knelt down in front of me, his face inches from mine.

I could smell his expensive cologne, the same scent that used to haunt my nightmares.

He reached out a hand to touch my cheek.

I flinched away from his touch.

His smile vanished, replaced by a cold, hard stare.

“You ran to Ricci,” Marcus said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“You thought a street thug could protect you from me.”

“Damiano is twice the man you will ever be,” I spat.

Marcus’s hand shot out, grabbing my jaw tightly.

His fingers dug into my skin, forcing me to look at him.

“Damiano is currently bleeding out in an alley,” Marcus said.

“And by tomorrow morning, he will sign over his shipping docks and his warehouse districts to my associates.”