Chapter 21
twenty-one
DARE
It’s impossible to make out any of their conversation. Joseph’s suite must be soundproof. I contemplate going inside right as the door opens.
Joseph holds it for his daughter, whose head is hanging, hair covering her face. My eyes narrow, and I look at him. He winks at me and slams the door, almost hitting Rose with it again.
Rose sniffs once, then straightens and storms toward the elevator.
I trail after her, glancing back at Joseph’s office and wondering what he said to make Rose cry. There’s something fragile about the way she holds herself, like he’s taken the wind out of her sails. My hands fist at my sides.
The elevator is waiting for us when we arrive, and Rose strides in, crossing her arms and facing away from me.
“Ignoring me again?” I ask.
She exhales and shakes her head in annoyance, still refusing to look at me .
Suspicion crawls up my spine. There’s something distinctly different about her right now.
I try a different tactic. “What, not the reception you were expecting?”
Again, she doesn’t turn toward me. No furious scowl sent my way. My gut begins to churn, warning me that I won’t like whatever happened between her and Joseph.
“Rose.”
“What?”
“Look at me.”
“No.”
Huffing, I step in front of her before she can shift away. Her hazel eyes glittering with tears, Rose glares at me, a bright red mark coloring one of her cheeks, fingerprints on her chin—not mine. My gaze slides over her body, needing to confirm she’s not hurt anywhere else. A sharp ringing fills my ears as I spot the marks on her arm, new ones right next to the bruises Eric left behind. Bright, almost violent pink, the marks are so vivid, I can see exactly where each of Joseph’s fingers touched her skin.
He hurt her? She may have been a Miller yesterday, but today, she’s a Richardson, and I always protect my family from those who would do them harm.
White-hot fire shoots through my veins. My jaw clenches and my nostrils flare as I exhale one long breath as I lift my gaze to meet Rose’s once more. She’s still glaring at me, like I’m the reason for all her troubles, but behind that anger is vulnerability.
Every instinct screams at me to defend her.
She’s my wife.
No one touches what’s mine. The only marks I want on her skin are from when I fuck her senseless. But these? These violent bruises? Unacceptable. Turning as the elevator reaches the first floor, I jam my finger into the button to close the doors.
“No.” The word trembles out of her.
“Yes,” I snarl, pushing the button to return to Joseph’s level.
The attendant Irene turns a smile on us, ready to do her job, but it falls when she sees my face. I can’t blame her. I’m clenching my jaw so hard, my molars might crack and my eyebrows are drawn down.
She glances at Rose, as if to make sure she’s okay, and a little gasp slips out of her before she can stop herself. So, the bruises are as prominent as I think they are. Fury rattles through me. Irene glances back at me in accusation, but I give a hard shake of my head and lift my eyes, communicating that the one responsible is still up in his office. Understanding slides across her face right as the elevator doors shut.
Rose’s breaths come quick and shallow. “Dare, you can’t.”
I pin her with a look, hating the way my chest clenches at the sudden desperation on her face. “I can,” I tell her, turning toward her and hating the way she flinches. She’s done that before because of my reputation, but now, the recoil is for a different reason. And I hate it. I hate the new layer of fear. I hate that she’s scared. I hate that I fucking care. I hate that I failed to keep her safe. “I should have stayed.”
But she asked me to leave. I thought I was giving her what she wanted.
She presses her lips together.
The elevator doors glide open. I’m out before she can grab me, striding confidently down the corridor, aware of her quickened pace, her frantic breaths, the terror. My fists clench at my sides.
Killing to protect my family is one thing. Hurting a woman because she’s made you mad? Reprehensible. Despicable. Weak. Joseph Miller might be one of the richest men in the world, but he’s a waste of space.
“Excuse me!” The receptionist’s voice chases after us.
Too late, buddy.
My hand grasps the handle of the door, and I shove it open. The metal knob cracks against the drywall. Oops. Joseph slams his phone against the desk and stands.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he snarls.
It’s hard to believe that, at one point, right after I’d lost my parents and this man betrayed me on the stand, I was scared of him. Now, when I storm toward him, it’s Joseph whose face goes pale. It’s him who flicks his gaze around, trying to find an escape.
I reach and grab his collar before he can run, practically dragging his body over the desk until our faces are a foot apart.
Rose gasps. “Dare, stop!”
Why is she still defending him?
As my gaze burns into Joseph’s, I drop every wall I keep up, unleash the beast he’s made, and let every way I’ve pictured his death flood my mind. Joseph’s face slackens; he’s afraid of the monster he’s created. But it’s not enough.
Heart beating against my chest, I grab his crotch and twist, gripping him so tightly, he almost retches. I move my mouth to his ear, ignoring his pained cries. It’s still not enough. I keep enough distance that I don’t touch his oily skin, but close enough that only Joseph will hear me. “If you ever touch my wife again, I’ll kill you,” I whisper, pulling back to hold his gaze .
There should be a burst of satisfaction in my chest the moment I see Joseph realize that Rose isn’t his anymore. Sure, she may still love her dad, but none of that matters. The moment she said I do, she became mine, and even if she hates me until the day I die, no one hurts my wife.
I squeeze his nuts a little harder.
He shouts.
“Dare!” Rose’s hand grips my shoulder and tries to tug me away.
I glance at her, despising the worry on her face, because her father deserves so much worse than this, but she’ll truly see me as a monster if I give him everything he deserves. And for some fucked-up reason, I don’t want to become that person, at least not until she understands why.
“Tell your daughter you’re sorry.”
Rose shakes her head, her cheeks stained crimson. “It’s okay. I’m okay. He doesn’t have to.”
The more Rose tries to reason with me, the harder I grip Joseph’s manhood, wondering if it’s humanly possible to rip it off.
Joseph gags again, the pain too much, but there’s a mumbled statement in there.
I loosen my hold ever so slightly. “Louder.”
“He doesn’t?—”
“Rose,” I growl, and her mouth snaps shut. And I fucking hate that too. My heart is battering my ribs, so unsteady, I should be worried, but all I can focus on is making Joseph pay. “Say it,” I snarl at him.
“I’m sorry,” he wheezes, eyes bulging and lines of pain wrinkling his features.
“Good boy.” I release his crotch and slap his cheek, not hard enough to bruise like he did with Rose, but enough to humiliate him. I can’t leave a visible mark on him. He’d call the cops.
Right now, though, he’s done worse. Joseph would be the one they’d cart away, so long as Rose would admit it was her father who hurt her, but I’m worried she’d lie to protect him out of her deranged sense of loyalty. I settle for roughly gripping his chin.
“Don’t fuck with me on this, Joe.” And with that, I shove him away.
The pain is too much for him, and he collapses onto the desk, nearly face-planting, but unfortunately he has enough strength left to slap a palm on the desk to stop himself.
I turn to Rose, hold out my hand, and wait for her to decide. She can come with me, or she can stay and take care of Daddy. Something flickers across her face. Two seconds of hesitation, but then her palm is soft against mine as she picks me over her own father. It’s only for this moment—I know that—but my chest swells with pride. I close my fingers around hers and lead her to the elevator.
She’s quiet on the ride down. I text my driver and get almost instant confirmation that he’s out front. Good. When we reach the lobby, the attendant’s gaze finds mine first. I grimace but nod in confirmation. I’ve taken care of him, for now . Relief washes over the woman’s face, but she quickly schools her face and grins at Rose, like nothing is wrong. An attempt to not make Rose feel bad.
Irene needs a better job.
“Have a good day, Rose.”
“Thank you,” Rose says, voice soft and expression perfectly pleasant, like the stark red marks littering her body don’t hurt .
How many times has she faced the world with this mask while pain rattles through her?
There are too many people in this damn lobby. I quickly usher her out to the car, crowding the side where her arm is bruised. Rose’s hair curtains her face as she stares at the ground on our way out. To anyone watching, they’d never suspect who I’m escorting out.
Remy notices something is wrong right away. He wouldn’t be worth what I pay him if he didn’t.
His forehead wrinkles and his gaze falls to Rose. There’s only the slightest reaction to what he sees, a faint clenching of his jaw. He glances back at me with so many unspoken questions. I hold his gaze and shake my head, warning him not to ask. I’ll fill him in later.
A little too late, my driver, Lance, is up and out of the car, opening the door for us. Remy shoulder checks Lance out of the way before he can get a good look at her.
Rose doesn’t notice any of this. She’s too lost in her head. I place my hand at the small of her back, and she startles, sucking in a soft breath before sliding into the vehicle first, scooting all the way across the bench.
Hand on the door, I turn and glare up at the executive level.
Remy does the same, and not for the first time, I’m happy to have a man like him as a best friend. He hates Joseph almost as much as I do. He’ll do whatever I ask. But this is one thing I don’t want Remy to touch.
In time, Joseph’s empire will be nothing more than rubble, and I want him to know it was me who destroyed it.