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"Try not to worry, love. I will handle this."
By the time I get home, it's after dark, too late to go confront the cacan who upset my wife so much she cried over the phone. Emery meets me at the car, rushing up as soon it stops moving, and flings her body at me the second I step out of the Mercedes. I cling to her as fiercely as she holds on to me.
She buries her face against my neck. "I missed you, baby."
I press my lips to her throat. "I missed you too."
Her arms clinch me tighter, but I don't care if I can't breathe.
"I will deal with Graham in the morning," I say, and my voice sounds the way everyone describes it when they're trying to annoy me. But the steel in my voice is not a joke.
Graham Oliver will pay for this.
