Christopher’s POV
I grabbed the guy by the back of his shirt and yanked him off her with so much force that he stumbled and hit the floor hard. He let out a startled grunt, and the crowd around us stilled, parting like the Red Sea.
My blood boiled as I stared down at the scumbag who dared lay a finger on her. He groaned, trying to push himself up, but I stepped forward, planting my foot on his chest and forcing him back down.
“Touch her again, and you won’t leave to see another day,” I spat, literally holding myself from starting a fistfight in the middle of the club. Well, it wouldn’t be a fistfight, just me beating his scrawny ass to a pulp. Luckily for him, I wasn’t in the mood to spend my Christmas Eve that way.
The guy’s eyes widened in fear, and he raised his hands in surrender.
