Signed To The Mafia King - Chapter 52: Chapter 52

ALINA
I ran faster, needing to get to them at once. What the hell did he think he was doing, slapping anyone that hard?
The man slapped her again. This time it was even harder and louder.
The woman fell to the floor.
The woman didn’t cry out. She barely even moved. Just turned her head, her jaw tight, her eyes filled with so much hate it was almost startling.
“Step away from her,” I shouted at him.
The man turned like he was just noticing me. His face was twisted with anger, his lip curling mockingly as he looked at me. “Back off. This is my wife.”
I stopped a few feet away, breathing hard as I tried to control my anger. “And? That means you get to treat her like your personal punching bag?’
His mouth pulled into an ugly sneer. “She’s mine. I can do what I want.”
I felt Ethan step beside me, but I kept my eyes on the man.
“Leave,” he said flatly, pointing his short fingers at me. He looked down his nose at me arrogantly. “Or I’ll slap you next.”
I laughed, watching as Ethan helped the woman to her feet. “Try it.”
The woman finally spoke. She sounded defeated and weak. “Please go away, I’ve got it covered.”
I turned to her. Up close, I could see the faint bruises under her makeup, the way she held herself stiffly, like she was used to this, like she’d learned to prepare for it.
She looked even more familiar up close.
“No,” I said. “He’s harassing my employee outside my club.”
The man rolled his eyes like she was being ridiculous. “You? Own this club?” He looked me up and down, unimpressed. “Oh, please.”
I pulled out my phone and called Mikhail. “Come outside. Now. I might need your help.”
“Yes, Boss. I'll be there in a moment.”
I put the phone away, and stood between the man and his wife. Before the man could say another word, Ethan moved fast.
He rammed his arm against the man’s skull, and the hit was loud.
I flinched just hearing it as the man stumbled, almost falling down.
He winced, like he couldn’t quite believe what just happened. His head snapped up, eyes narrowing in pure hatred.
Ethan smiled. “That,” he said, “was for hitting a woman.”
Then he punched him. A full-force hit, right to the face.
The man staggered back, blood spilling from his nose, dripping onto his shirt.
“And that,” Ethan added, shaking out his hand, “was for disrespecting my boss.”
I stared at him. Not because he’d done it, but because of how much rage was on his face.
Ethan was never like this. He smirked, he joked, he treated everything like a game. But right now? He wasn’t playing.
He looked like he wanted to kill the man with his bare hands. I had the feeling that if I let him, he would do exactly that.
The man wiped his nose, frowning at us, but he didn’t move. Not with Ethan standing there, fists still clenched.
Ethan turned to the woman, his face smoothing out like none of it had just happened.
He reached for her hand, his voice soft. “Come inside. You can stay in one of the back rooms.”
She hesitated, glancing between us, torn between whether to follow Ethan's lead, or not. She looked at the car and shook her head.
“Don’t move,” the man snapped. “And you two, you don't know who you're playing with. You're going to wish you'd just walked away.”
Ethan took the woman’s hand, tugging her toward the club, completely ignoring the man. “Come on.”
She didn’t move.
Her entire body was shaking, but she wouldn't move, her fingers holding Ethan’s like she wanted to trust him, but something more important was stopping her.
“He’s going to take my daughter,” she whispered, tears finally dropping down her eyes.
I stopped, finally understanding why she was so reluctant to move away from the car.
“Where is she?” I asked.
The woman’s throat moved as she swallowed hard. She was still looking at the man fearfully. How long had he abused her to raise such fear in a woman this beautiful? “Inside the car.”
Ethan turned to me. “Get her.”
I nodded and walked to the car.
The man was still wiping blood off his face, his nostrils flaring when he saw where I was going.
He moved fast, stepping in front of the car door, blocking me.
My heart pounded, every muscle in my body feeling rigid as I stopped.
I didn’t know if he’d hit me, but it didn’t matter. If the choice was between taking a hit or letting him drive away with a little girl in the car, I’d take the hit.
His lips twisted as he snarled at me. “Take my kid, and I’ll slap you with a kidnapping charge.”
“My husband will kill you just for threatening me. Back away from the car.”
His eyes filled with fear and I knew then that he was just a bully. He covered his fear fast and stood straight, like he was preparing to fight me.
Ethan stepped up beside me. “Move.”
The man didn’t.
Ethan didn’t argue. He reached for the car handle, pulling the door open before the man could react.
A little girl was in the back seat, crying so hard her tiny body shook.
Her face was red, wet with tears, her small hands holding the car seat straps like she was trying to force herself out of it.
I felt my heart breaking. How long had she been crying in there?
Her father jumped forward, trying to take her away.
Ethan shoved him back and grabbed the girl, lifting her into his arms like she weighed nothing. She was still crying, her tiny fingers now tightly holding the fabric of his jacket.
The man roared, reaching for her, his face twisted in rage.
Ethan ignored him, turned, and handed the girl to me.
“Take her,” he said.
I wrapped my arms around her, feeling how small she was, how fast her heart was beating. She held me, crying into my shoulder.
The man jumped at Ethan again, trying to fight him.
Ethan moved faster than him. He punched him in the stomach, making him double over, then hit him again on the back.
The man fell on the floor, his hands around his stomach as he cried in pain.
Ethan didn’t stop. He grabbed the man’s shirt, yanked him up, and hit him again. And again.
Blood poured on the pavement.
The woman was shouting, her hands flying to her mouth.
The little girl cried even harder. I turned her so she didn't see what was happening.
I looked up and saw Mikhail walking out of the club.
I shifted the girl in my arms. “Mikhail.”
He glanced at me, then at the man on the ground, bloody and groaning.
“Take care of him,” I said.
Mikhail didn’t need more instructions.
I turned and walked away, Ethan right beside me.
I didn't want the girl to be part of the violence. She was too young to be seeing things like these.
We were half way back to the club door when we heard the click of a gun being cocked.
A voice, hoarse with rage and pain, shouted, “You think you can take my family away from me?”
We all turned.
The man was on his feet, barely able to stand, blood dripping from his face, his hand shaking as he pointed a gun straight at us.
His eyes were wild, his whole body shaking as he raged at us.
And without warning, he pulled the trigger.