Victor’s voice stopped me in my tracks. “You looked rather cozy with my associate. What were you guys talking about?”
Here we go.
I peered down at him. He was still standing by the door, his hands shoved in his pockets.
“Nothing important,mi amor.” I kept my voice sweet, attempting to fend off his questioning that I knew would lead to anything but a good outcome.
“Didn’t look likenothingto me,” he said with a slight edge to his voice, his shoulders now tense beneath the fabric of his suit.
“Victor,” I started.
“Olivia, I asked you a question.” His tone was harsher this time, the expression on his face darkening as he stepped forward. I instinctively stepped back, trying to escape the anger vibrating off his body.
Stay calm, Sofia.
“Victor, we were just talking about the upcoming charity gala that I’m planning and his new baby.”
His disbelieving laugh filled the room. “Just talking? I saw the way he was looking at you.” He paused. “I saw howyouwere looking at him.”
Is this man fucking serious?
I knew Theo was probably already sleeping, but I needed to deescalate this situation before he heard the commotion and decided to barge into it.
I climbed back down and walked to stand in front of him, placing a hand on his bicep. I felt the uprising rage trembling through his body. I wanted to tell him he was reading too much into it, but anything close to an accusation would only fuel the already tense atmosphere.
Instead, I let out a soft laugh, smiling up at him “Mi amor, he’s happily married and so am I. Let’s just go to bed, yeah?”
Something shifted in his gaze, but I decided to ignore it.
I walked back toward the staircase, but before I could even make it, he grabbed my wrist and whirled me around, slamming my back against the wall, sending spikes of pain through my shoulders.
His bulk crowded over me, his fingers tightening around my bones, sending pain lancing up my arm. “This conversation isn’t over.” He gritted through his teeth.
I looked down at his punishing grip on my wrist, my arm trapped between our bodies. Snapping my eyes back to him, I calmly said, “Victor, let me go.”
Instead of letting me go, he spun me around and twisted my arm behind my back, slamming me into the wall as punishment. My face collided against the plastered wall, a loud thud resonating across the room, sending the edges of my sight blurring.
Fuck. This is going to leave a bruise.
The sound snapped him out of his angered trance, and his hand dropped immediately.
“Ugh, look at what you made me do,” he said, annoyed.
Was this man serious? He hit me, and now it was my fault. God, I couldn’t wait to put a bullet through his skull.
I swallowed the urge to retaliate and ignored the throbbing pain in my face before I turned to him. He stayed quiet while I just stared at him, his eyes roaming over my injured face, contempt filling his.
“Next time, remember your place,” he finally said, his words heavy with warning. He turned on his heels, storming down the hallway and into his office.
When the door slammed shut behind him, I brought my hand to my cheek, hoping it would dull the pain as I made my way upstairs. I walked into the bedroom, heading straight toward the bathroom.
I switched the light on, locking the door behind me before turning the shower on. I grabbed a few painkillers from the cabinet and bent to wash them down with water from the sink.
I swiped my hand across my mouth and glanced up, catching the first glimpse of myself in the mirror. I brought my hand up, gently touching the swollen area, and winced at the contact.
I leaned against the bathroom counter, reminding myself I was doing this for a reason.
You’ll get what’s coming for you, Victor Morales.