Page 52 of Finn

“Knock it off, asshole. Take your punishment like a man, or I promise this is going to get so much worse for you.”

Rick stops trying to get his hand free, but his low cries grate on my fucking nerves.

Pussy.

I walk back to my table and grab a heavy rubber mallet. “Let this be a lesson to you and any of your buddies who may share the same views about the woman I married. No one speaks to my wife with anything less than the respect I demand from everyone in this city. If anyone thinks putting their hands on her will ever be justified or forgiven, they are wrong. No one touches my wife without severe consequences. The only reason I’m inclined to let you live is so you can serve as an example. If I catch you saying one rude thing about her, and believe me, Rick, I will find out, I will not hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes.”

I swing the mallet down on Rick’s prone hand over and over until the white bones on his knuckles are visible through his torn and bloody skin.

“Have I made my point clear?”

“Y-yes, Finn. Fuck. I get it.”

“Good.” I pull my fist back and punch the asshole in the temple, knocking him out cold. He slumps in the chair, an unconscious and bloody mess.

“Tie him up and dump him in front of his old man’s place. I’ll get you the address. He can explain to his dad what he did to cause this to happen.”

My men nod and take Rick out the door on the other side of the room into the back alley, where a car is waiting.

After washing my hands thoroughly in the industrial sink, I call one of my men to clean this room then call Cillian.

“Heard you were handling a problem,” he says when he picks up.

“All in a day’s work.”

I hear Cillian chuckle on the other end. “What’s up?”

“I need a favor. Can you charter me a plane and cover the casino tomorrow?”

“Sure. Where are you going?”

My mouth splits into a wide grin as my idea solidifies in my brain. “Atlantic City.”

Chapter fourteen

Alessia

Finn and I were at the casino for another hour after he met me in his office, and I nearly tore his pants from his body to get to his cock. Seeing him handle that asshole flipped some sort of switch in me, and I showed him my appreciation on my knees. It was as though some baser instinct completely took over my actions and the need to own him somehow consumed every thought in my head.

Being with him is so different than I’d imagined. All the men I’ve known who are a part of this life would’ve seen what was going on with that Rick guy and gotten angry that someone was disrespecting their property. They wouldn’t have given two shits about making them apologize to me. Sure, they would have demanded an apology, but it would’ve been to them, not me. Finn was obviously angry that someone caused a scene in his casino and disrespected his wife, but he was also angry for me. He doesn’t tolerate anyone having a cross word to say about me, not because I’m his, and it’s a personal insult to him, but because he demands people respect me for my sake. Because that’s what I deserve as my own person.

Typing on his phone on the way home from the casino, Finn looks at me with an I know something you don’t know smile.

“I’m taking you somewhere tomorrow,” he informs me.

“Oh, you are? What if I already have plans?” I don’t, but I also don’t appreciate him demanding instead of asking. “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean you have control over my time, Finn.” My lips are set in a thin line as I shoot him a glare.

“Let me rephrase then, wife.” His smile turns up a couple notches, and I can tell he’s proud of whatever plans he has in store. “I’d like to take you on a date tomorrow. We’ll be leaving around noon and won’t be back until the next day. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“Are you sure this is the best time for us to be leaving town? Carlo is still missing. I have the casino to think about—”

Finn cuts me off with a kiss. I let out a little growl of frustration, which, of course, makes him laugh. “Alessia, there’s always going to be something. You and I both know that. If we don’t steal time for ourselves where we can, we’ll never do anything except work and plot and scheme. That’s the way this life is. Let me do something for you.”

I look into my husband’s pleading eyes and can’t find it within myself to deny what he’s saying is true.

“Are we the type of couple who goes on dates now?”

“We’re whatever we want to be. Since we didn’t have a chance to do that before we were married, I figured, why not try it out?” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but one thing I know about Finn is he wouldn’t put something together unless it was important to him. Unless I was important to him.

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