Page 51 of Finn

I haul the piece of shit from his chair and throw him on the carpeted floor. Two security guards flank Rick from both sides and haul him away, taking him to the back room without me having to instruct them. They know what the punishment is for anyone who disrespects my wife.

“Make sure everyone has a fresh drink on the house, yeah?” I say to Alessia, who rolls her eyes.

“I already planned on it.”

“That attitude, wife,” I growl as I touch my palm to her cheek and hold her stare. “Are you okay?”

Alessia’s gaze softens for a moment at the concern in my question. “Perfectly fine.”

I dip my lips to hers and take her mouth in a brief kiss, with the promise of more lingering between us.

“This won’t take long,” I tell her.

“Good,” she growls. “Meet me in your office when you’ve finished.”

I quirk a brow and a seductive smile toys with the corners of her mouth. So, violence in her defense is a turn-on. Noted.

Straightening my jacket, I turn around and march back across the casino floor to the end of the hallway with a hidden door on the left next to my office. I move a painting aside and press my thumb to the scanner, which unlocks the door to a soundproof room.

The lights are much brighter here than anywhere else in the building. It heightens the anxiety of the men I’ve had cuffed to the chair the way Rick is now.

“You know, Rick, our fathers used to do business together. Some would even say they’re friends. How disappointed yours is going to be when he finds out what a miserable asshole you were to his friend’s dear daughter-in-law.”

“I’m sorry, Finn. It’s been a long night of drinking, then one of my buddies got his hands on some grade A coke. I was out of my head for a minute there. I swear to you, it won’t happen again.”

His terrified gaze tracks me as I walk over to the table that holds several instruments we keep on hand for situations such as this.

“Oh, I have no doubt. You can consider your membership revoked, Rick.”

He nods his head frantically. “That’s fair, Finn. I deserve that.”

“But that would have been the case if you had spoken to any of my employees like that. The difference here is you spoke to my wife like that. You put your hands on what’s mine. What was it you called her again?”

I turn toward the trembling man with my arms crossed across my chest and stare into his eyes.

“A-an Italian whore.”

My jaw clenches so hard I’m liable to break a tooth. In two long strides, I’m standing in front of Rick, hammering my fist into his mouth one, two, three times. Blood drips down and runs over his chin before he spits a couple teeth from his mouth.

I grab him by the throat, not caring in the slightest that his blood is getting all over my hand and squeeze hard. Leaning down, I put my face mere inches from his.

“That’s for the filth you spewed at my wife.”

I revel in the panicked look in his eyes. He has no idea if I’m going to release his throat so he can breathe or if I plan on watching the life drain from him here and now.

Letting go of his neck, I spin around and walk back over to my table.

“Which disgusting hand did you use to grab my wife with?”

I turn slightly to watch him choke and gasp trying to get air back into his lungs so he can answer me.

“My right,” he coughs out.

My head tilts to the guard on his right. “Release his hand.”

The guard unlocks the cuff securing him to the chair, but firmly holds his wrist.

I grab a wooden barstool from the corner of the room and haul it to Rick’s side. My guard lifts his hand to the stool as Rick uselessly struggles against him.

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