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“Nicky’s actions don’t concern me, Lucian. I don’t give them enough thought to decipher their intent.”
“And why is he apologizing? How did he overstep?”
“When doesn’t he overstep?” I wave him off. “Seriously, he and I have been at each other’s throats for years. Just another round in our never-ending sparring match.”
“You’re a real piece of work.” He scoffs, dragging his hand through his jet-black hair.
“Excuse me?!” I rear back.
“You heard me. You think I don’t know there’s something between you two? You and your little bullshit banter?” He turns, leaning back against the counter while pointing to the offending flowers. “This stops now, Daphne. You understand me?”
“And am I to believe this means you will be ceasing any and all extracurricular activities as well?”
“Stop acting like you’re innocent in all this. You think I don’t know you were fucking him when we got together? I was willing to look the other way when we were just dating, but you wear my ring now, Daphne. And I will not have my wife carrying on like a goddamn whore! Especially not for some lowlife piece-of-shit criminal like Nicky C.”
Even in the presence of everything else he just said, it’s the last part that strikes a nerve. Unable to bite my tongue, I rush to his defense.
“That lowlife piece of shit has one of the most brilliant minds you’ll ever have the honor of being in the presence of, and a greater sense of loyalty than you could ever fathom.”
Lucian’s nostrils flare, his jaw clenching tight. The tension mounts between us, stifling the air around us, until he finally snaps. His hand shoots out to grip hold of the vase. With little regard for where I stand, he launches it past my head, where it hits the ground and shatters behind me.
“You want me to say it, Daph?!” he roars. “Yes, okay? Yes, I missed the appointment because I was with Lindsay! But can you blame me?! How the hell is a man supposed to feel like a king in his home when the woman who’s supposed to be building him up spends all her time bitching about all the things he does wrong? Maybe if you took a page out of one of these girls’ books and showed me a little respect every now and then, I wouldn’t feel the need to go stick my dick in something else!”
“And maybe if you were a real man, I wouldn’t have ridden Nicky’s leg in the corner of a department store ‘til I came all over his $2,000 bespoke suit pants.”
The slap comes so fast, I don’t even see it. One minute I’m upright, and the next I’m tumbling to the floor, narrowly missing the scattered shards of glass as I clutch my throbbing face. Pain radiates from my cheek, while the headache that instantly forms behind my eye screams in agony.
I lie against the cool dark tile of my kitchen floor, somewhat stunned by what just occurred. Did that motherfucker just hit me?
Luc paces back and forth, seemingly lost to his thoughts as he mutters frantically to himself. I push up to my knees, managing to right myself as I make my way back to my feet where his attention is suddenly drawn back to me. His eyes scan my face, his expression softening as he takes in the sight of the bruise which has undoubtedly begun form.
“Daphne, I—” he begins, only to be cut off when my foot connects with his balls. Luc drops, releasing a garbled cry as he collapses to the floor.
“YOU HIT ME?!” I scream down at him before driving my foot into his ribs. “What the fuck do you take me for, Luc?” I draw my leg back once more, only to be knocked off balance when Luc kicks my ankle out from under me.
I land hard, the impact sending a sharp stinging pain up my side. It momentarily stuns me, and before I’m able to scramble away, I’m pinned to the floor by the weight of Luc’s body.
Gripping hold of my chin, he forces me to look up at him. “I think you’re someone who needs to be taught a lesson.”
It’s the back of his hand that collides with my cheekbone this time, the force so powerful, a flash of white blanks out my field of vision. My body goes limp while I lay disoriented on the floor. I’m only vaguely aware when he climbs off me, the angry thudding of his footsteps carrying him down the hall.
Minutes seem like hours before the heavy-handed slam of our front door marks his exit, leaving me to ponder the choices in my life that led me to this point. I don’t rush to get up—partially because I know he won’t be back for a while, but also because I’m not really sure I even could if I tried.
CHAPTER 22
NOW
NICKY
“Nick.” Rico knocks against the door jamb, his voice drawing my attention up from where I’m seated at my desk.
Something’s off. His typical lighthearted demeanor is unusually subdued. Eyeing me warily, he casts a brief glance back over his shoulder before his hesitant gaze finds mine once more. He swallows, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple causing his words to momentarily catch in his throat.
“What’s up?” I ask, lifting my chin to him in question.
“I need you to stay calm.”
Tossing my pen down beside my computer, I lean back in my chair, pinning him with a glare. “Well, that’s not foreboding at all.” Pressing my palm against the side of my chin, I apply pressure, relieving some of the tension in my neck with a quick pop. “All right.” I sigh, shutting my laptop and shifting it off to the side. “Who fucked up?”
