Page 109 of It Must Be Fate

“Sorry, sweetheart. He’s mine now.” He casually tosses the energy bar wrapper into my trash can as he walks up to Peter. His hand comes up to grip the back of his neck. I can tell based on the way Peter pales that Rogue is squeezing the life out of him. “And, Peter, you’ll find that my approach is a lot less diplomatic than my wife’s.”

With that, he uses his grip to slam Peter’s head into my desk.

The sound of his face colliding with the hard surface is chilling, bone breaking and cartilage twisting loudly in my office. I jump, my hands flying to my mouth in shock.

“She’s a peacemaker, that’s why I love her,” Rogue adds with a smile, talking about me with ease while his prey groans in pain. “And I’m more than happy to be the bad guy in the relationship. Balance, you know?” He pulls Peter back up to standing. “Now that we’ve been introduced, let me make something clear.” At their full height, Rogue stands four inches taller than the other man. He looks down at him, taking in his mangled nose, bleeding cheekbones, and bruised jaw. “Insult my wife again and you’ll be picking the pieces of your teeth off her office floor with a pair of tweezers and a magnifying glass. Do you understand me?”

Peter nods frantically, his expression still twisted with rage and a promise of retribution. Rogue’s expression goes from outwardly friendly to downright mean in the blink of an eye. Peter’s skin takes on a ghostly pallor as he swallows thickly.

“See, I don’t think you do. Let me give you a taster to make sure the message really sinks in.”

Peter doesn’t have time to react.

Rogue pushes down on his neck and brings his knee up in the same move. It slams brutally into his jaw and I hear in real time as at least ten of Peter’s teeth shatter. He howls in pain and drops to his knees, his hands closing over his mouth in agony.

Rogue leans over him until his face is level with Peter’s. “Bon appétit. That’s French, if you didn’t know,” he informs him. “My friend taught me.” Straightening, he positions himself between me and Peter, shielding my body away from him. “Get the fuck out of here while I’m still in the mood to let you leave alive and in one piece. Well, more or less. Have you ever picked your teeth off the floor with broken fingers? I haven’t, but I’ve been told it’s not fun.” Rogue places his shoe on the back of Peter’s hand. He adds slight pressure and the man whimpers. “You have two minutes before I change my mind and give you a go.”

Peter scrambles to his feet as best he can, dazed by the pain and dripping blood onto the floor in a zigzagging line to the door. Before he can slip out and disappear, I call to him.

“Peter.”

He turns and I step out from behind Rogue’s body, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with my husband.

“Would it surprise you to know I have friends at Belmarsh Prison? Not everyone thinks so lowly of my legal services. You’d be shocked how many of them would be willing to do me a favor if I simply asked.” Steeling my spine, I hiss, “Come to my office again to threaten me and I won’t need my husband to defend me. I’ll handle you myself. For Lydia and the many other women I’m sure you’ve hurt in the past.”

I don’t stay to watch him go. I turn away and face Rogue. He doesn’t take his eyes off the door until he’s sure the threat is gone and no danger is imminent. Only then does he look at me, his features softening and his mouth relaxing into a real smile, not the awful grimace he gave Peter.

My arms cross over my chest and I lift a brow at him. “You’re paying for a cleaning service to get the blood and teeth out of my floors.”

He grins, his hand wrapping around my hip and pulling me into him. “I can afford it.”

I snort, my palms finding his chest. I stare at and play with the buttons of his dress shirt absentmindedly for a moment before I murmur, “I could have handled him myself, you know.”

“Of that, I have no doubt. But you’d have had better luck convincing me to run buck naked through Siberia in the dregs of winter than asking me to sit quietly by like a good boy while he insulted you.”

I laugh at the visual.

“Fine. I suppose I would have reacted the same way if the roles were reversed.”

Rogue sobers, his expression turning serious in a heartbeat. “Be careful with him, Bell. I know the rage I saw in his face well. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him.”

“He’s going to prison tomorrow, hopefully for a long time.”

“Money and power open a lot of doors, we know that better than anyone,” he warns. “Just like those things bought him his temporary release on bail instead of remand which he should have gotten based on his crime, they may very well buy him a reduced sentence. You’ve made an enemy there, one who hates women. I’m asking you to please be careful.”

Something in my chest softens immeasurably at his tone and at the clear worry in his face. Reaching up, I palm his cheek. “I will, I promise.”

“Let me get you a security guard.”

“No.”

“Bell—”

“No, Rogue. I’m not some popstar with a stalker who needs to be protected. That’s overkill — nothing’s going to happen to me. I’ll be careful and pay attention, but I’m not getting a bodyguard.”

He makes a discontented noise but doesn’t argue, correctly reading the expression on my face that tells him he’s not going towin this one. “Fine. But you need to tell me the second you feel threatened or scared in any way, okay?”

“Yes. And if it comes to that, then we can revisit the bodyguard question.”

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