Chapter 45 45
STEVE POV
I was holding back my anger up until I dropped Freya off, and I’m glad I managed. If I had let it slip even an inch, I would have scared her, and I didn’t want the night we just had to be stained by the violence I was about to commit. But the second her car door closed, the mask cracked.
I never planned to meet Mark this way. I had promised Freya I would stay away from him, and I meant it, but Mark was a special kind of idiot. He couldn't just take his loss and walk away.
I shifted into gear. The engine screamed as I tore through the streets.
I reached the gym, not actually the main gym, but a nondescript building that served as the entrance to my world. I didn’t park; I just left the car idling near the side entrance and stepped out.
I headed straight for the back, toward the door that led to the underground. As I moved through the main gym area, I passed a few of my men. They were sitting around a table in the corner, nursing drinks and playing a game of cards. They looked up as I passed, saw the look on my face, and immediately went silent. They knew better than to say a word when I looked like this.
I reached the stairs and headed down. This was where the "ring" was. It was for people who needed to learn a lesson they wouldn't forget.
I hadn't even reached the bottom step when Victor appeared from the shadows of the hallway. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked tired; I guess he had been here all night, watching.
"He's inside," Victor said, pushing off the wall to meet me. "Still crying and lying. He thinks he can talk his way out of this."
"How's Lila?" I asked,
"Doctor says she’ll live. Stitched her up about an hour ago."
I nodded; I didn't say anything else. I pushed past Victor and headed to the end of the hall.
It was time to see just how much talk was left in Mark.
How did it happen? What caused him to stab her? "I asked Victor as we walked.
Victor looked at me, his expression tight. "He found out about us, Steve. About me and her. He went to her place to confront her, and Lila... she told him she was breaking up with him."
“So, it got messy, and he stabbed her."
I stared at him. The rage in my gut shifted into something colder. "I thought you ended things with her already," I said. I had told Victor months ago to cut the cord with Mark's mistress to avoid exactly this kind of mess.
Victor rubbed the back of his head, looking away for a split second. But when he saw the look in my eyes—the way I was staring him down—he straightened up fast.
"I planned to end it this month," Victor admitted, his voice clearing. "She's the clingy type, Steve. It wasn't easy to just let her go. She keeps stalking around, showing up. I was trying to phase it out, but Mark got wind of it before I could finish it."
I leaned in close to him. "Your 'clingy' problem just got a woman stabbed and brought that pathetic excuse of a man into my ring. If she dies, that's on you."
Victor didn't flinch, but I saw the muscles in his jaw ripple. "She's at the hospital. She's stable. But Mark... he’s downstairs…"
"Good," I rasped. "I hope he’s terrified. Because he’s about to find out that stabbing a woman is the easiest thing he’ll have to deal with today."
I pushed past Victor and headed in.
I walked up to him. At first, Mark kept his head down, staring at the floorboards. But as my shadow stretched over him, he slowly lifted his chin. He scanned me, his eyes traveling from my boots up to my face. A twisted, ugly smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, fueled by a desperate kind of jealousy.
"Are you also fucking that slut?" he spat, his voice cracking.
I stood perfectly still, looking down at him like he was something I’d found on the bottom of my shoe. "Is that why you stabbed her?"
"I said I didn’t stab her!" Mark’s voice rose to a shout, his body jolting against the chair. "That bitch is a liar. I only asked her for my money."
“"Money. "It sounded exactly like something that bitch would do—push a man to the edge over a few dollars. But I didn't care about her games.
"Hey... I swear, I never stabbed her," Mark said. His voice was shaky and thin.
I looked down at him, my face completely blank. "Why should I believe you?"
"Because I didn't fucking do it!" he yelled, his eyes wide and panicked. "You just have to believe me!"
I didn't say anything. I started to walk a slow circle around him. I reached out and let my fingers trace the rough, cold concrete of the wall, the sound of my boots echoing in the quiet room.
"Really? "I said, my voice low. "I should believe the same man who makes the life of his ex-wife miserable?"
I stopped walking and turned to him. "Why should I believe a man like him?"
Mark’s face changed instantly. The fear turned into sharp confusion. He looked like he’d been slapped. "How do you know about my wife?"
I didn't answer. Instead, I let a slow, dark smirk spread across my face. I let all the raw, mean energy I’d been holding back show in my eyes. I wanted him to see the monster.
"Because she’s the reason why you’re still breathing," I said.
Mark flinched, his brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of the words. But before he could speak, I leaned in closer, my voice turning even darker.
"Hold on," I said. "She’s not just the reason. A little girl also adds to your grace."
Mark froze.
"You mean my daughter—Luna?"
"Smart of you," I clipped.
That was the breaking point. Mark’s face went from pale to a violent, burning red. He let out a choked roar and kicked his chair back. He rushed towards me, his movements clumsy and desperate. He grabbed the front of my shirt with both hands, bunching the fabric in his shaking fists.
He was breathing like a panicked animal, staring right into my eyes.
"Who the fuck are you?" he hissed, his voice trembling with a mix of terror and rage. "Where is my wife?"
I didn't move. I didn't even raise my hands to break his grip. I just looked down at his trembling fingers on my clothes, then back at his face.
I wished he knew how much I had been craving a moment like this…