Page 103 of Twisted Shot
“Well. Isn’t this cute.”
The moment shatters like glass underfoot.
Mila jerks back, breath caught, and Theo already knows. His whole body goes rigid as he turns, shoulders squared, eyes locked forward.
Fucking Richard.
He’s propped in the doorway across the hall, tie loose, collar undone, smug little sneer curling the edge of his mouth like he just caught them doing something dirty behind the church pews.
What the fuck is it with this guy,Theo thinks, bile rising in his throat.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Richard drawls, his voice dripping with condescension. “But I had to see it for myself. Mila spreading her legs again like butter on?—”
Theo doesn’t even think.
His body lunges ahead of thought, vision tunneling, bloodroaring like fire in his skull. He steps into Richard’s space, shoulders squared, fists curling tight enough to splinter bone.
“Say another fucking word.”
His voice isn’t loud. It doesn’t need to be. It scrapes out of his throat like gravel dragged across pavement.
Richard grins wider, eyes glittering, and Theo knows in his bones that the bastard planned this. Timed it. Waited behind that door until he heard the lock turn.
“You know,” he says, eyes on Mila, ignoring Theo entirely, “sleeping with a client is kind of a PR nightmare, don’t you think? Wonder what Jaryd would say.”
Beside him, Mila stiffens. Her arms cross protectively over her chest, her eyes dark with something Theo hates to see. Shame. Pain. Not because she’s done anything wrong, but because this fucker knows exactly where to aim.
Richard clocks it and smiles, shark-like. “Oh right. He hates mess. Especially when it reflects poorly on the firm.”
Theo takes another step forward, forcing Richard to retreat.
“I warned you last time. You keep talking to her like that, and I’ll put you through that wall,” he says, the threat laced with violence he barely bothers to conceal.
Richard raises both hands slowly, mock surrender, eyes gleaming. “Easy, Captain. No need for bloodshed. I’m just saying—it’s a bold move. Let’s hope it doesn’t cost Mila her job.”
Fury crawls up his throat like fire. Theo opens his mouth to tell Richard where to go when his voice catches, words forming on his tongue that won’t come out, choking him.
Not now, he berates himself.Don’t fucking give him this.
He swallows it back and breathes through it. Forces the words into line as he stares Richard down, voice dropping lower.
“You don’t talk to her like that,” he grits out. “Not now. Not ever. You so much as look at her sideways again, and I’ll make sure you’re choking on your own teeth before you hit the ground.”
The grin slips from Richard’s face—only slightly, but it’s enough to satisfy something cold and hard in Theo’s chest.
He turns, barely holding himself together, his hands still trembling with the urge to break something, to break him. Mila is watching him, her eyes wide, glassy with too many emotions, and none of them are ones she should be carrying.
He reaches for her cheek, brushes his thumb there like a promise. Gentle. Steady. Even though he is anything but.
“Go inside,” he says, voice still rough. “I’ll text you when I get home.”
Once she’s safely back in her room, he forces himself to walk away, every muscle in his body pulled so tight it hurts to breathe. His jaw clenches, his fists throb, and the taste of her is still on his lips.
But Richard’s voice stays in his ears like poison, like rot.
Theo knows if it happens again, he won’t walk away next time.
CHAPTER 38
