Lucian
.
.
I was in the garage, my little special one.
Dark. Quiet. The air smelled like oil, metal, and something sharper and stronger....blood. Rodrigo was already on his knees, tied up, shaking like a damn coward. My men had worked him over just enough. His face was a mess...bloodied, swollen, barely recognizable. Good.
I sat down on the leather chair, two of my men standing behind me. My jaw clenched as I tilted my head, staring at him. I was pissed. No......extremely furious.
Who the hell gave him the right to touch her?
Then again… maybe it was my fault. I’m the one who sent Mara away. If I hadn’t done that, she wouldn’t have been at that club, dancing, vulnerable...for someone else to look at. For someone else to touch.
When I sleep with a woman I like, that’s it. She’s mine
