Wild Billionaire Romance - Chapter 59: Chapter 59

MARAT
Goddamn prick. That fucking motherfucker.
I’d just killed the man in front of my wife. And I wanted to do it again.
I should have been fucking terrified of her reaction to the unmitigated violence pumping through my veins. I didn’t know how she was going to handle it, or if I even had the right to ask her to.
But I was too amped to think about it. And if I had to do it all over again. I would.
With no hesitation.
I would kill Ferragamo, Royce, and anyone else who threatened her a hundred times over.
I would burn the whole fucking world to keep her safe.
Hell, I’d already put plans into motion to bury every one of Ferragamo’s contacts. Anybody who had a hand in hunting my wife and targeting her would be dust by the end of the week.
The entire world needed to know Destiny was mine. No one fucked with mine and lived. I was the Devil Wolf now. I wasn’t one to be trifled with.
It was time my wife learned who I was. And it was past fucking time I reminded her who she belonged to.
Me. Mine.
Trying to disguise my fury, I approached slowly, carefully, giving her time to get used to the fact I was going to invade her space. She was shaking, and her face was soaked with tears.
But nothing could detract from her innate beauty. She was stunning. Wearing ripped jeans and a baggy t-shirt, her hair in a ponytail, and dirt beneath her nails from gardening. She looked perfect.
Goddamn. So beautiful. Sweet. Mine.
I wanted her so fucking much.
“Are you good? Baby, talk to me. Are you hurt?” I asked, keeping my hands where she could see them.
I watched her face for any hint of feeling. Not wanting her to run, I crouched in front of her. I had one split second before I read her intentions. One moment to brace myself before she threw her arms around my neck and knocked me on my ass.
“You came,” she said, crying harder as I wrapped her up in my arms.
“Of course I did. You’re mine,” I told her, kissing her tears away.
“You left me, Dumplin’. Fuck. How could you leave me?” I snarled the question.
“I’m sorry.”
Destiny sniffed, tears clung to her long eyelashes, making her blue irises match the sapphire she left on our kitchen counter. I was going to fucking tattoo a ring on her before I was through.
I missed her so fucking much. She was coming home with me. And I was going to make her stay.
Somehow. I just had to.
“Marat, I’m sorry,” she repeated.
“Not yet, you’re not. But you’re going to be,” I growled, letting anger take over.
I stood up and bent down, lifting her in my arms. She was coming home. With me. I wasn’t going to give her a choice.
And if she fought me, that was fine. I could wrestle her into submission.
In fact, I might enjoy that.
“Hold on,” I grunted, lifting her into my arms.
Her legs wrapped around my waist as she held on to me, and I squeezed her tighter. The ride to the city was going to be fucking torture. But I needed her home, and I needed her naked.
“Darius. Take us home,” I told my man, and he nodded, getting in the front seat while I slid Destiny into the back, buckling her in before joining her on the other side.
“Marat—”
“No. Not one word. Not till I get you alone,” I said, my anger palpable.
My cell phone vibrated, and I picked it up, speaking in Russian I informed my brother of what had happened, explaining the emergency cleanup crew needed to rid the area behind Nonna’s building of any crime.
Lucky for me, we owned that building and the neighboring two. The only people who could see into the yard from their apartments were Nonna and Sofia’s father, neither of whom were looking at the time.
All surveillance was ours. It could and would be wiped.
I told Adrik everything, ignoring my wife who was staring up at me with glassy blue eyes. I loved the color of her eyes, so bright and startling.
She was so damn pretty.
And I was so damn angry.
Angry. Scared. Terrified of losing her. Did she know how close she came to being hurt? To leaving me for good? What if I’d arrived a minute later?
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
Darius pulled in front of the building half an hour later. I was seething inside, but I refused to speak. I couldn’t. Not yet.
“Wait,” I gritted the word, walking to her side of the car.
I opened the door, pulling her out with one hand on her arm, the other on her neck. I walked with her like that, as close to my side as I could get her until we were inside our private elevator.
“Marat—” she tried to speak again.
“No. You don’t get to talk. You don’t get to speak one fucking word, Destiny. Not one! Not until you listen,” I growled.
“But I⁠—”
“That’s it,” I growled, and leaned down, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her off the floor as the doors opened.
She squeaked, holding on to my shoulders as I frog marched her to the sofa.
“Sit there and close your mouth,” I growled, plopping her down with zero delicacy.
I stood to my full height, arms crossed, and stared at her. At Destiny. My wife, who’d come into my world, tearing down walls, making changes.
My sweet temptation who’d had the gumption to walk out on me when I was halfway around the world.
Fuck that. No way.
She wasn’t going to get away with this. I wouldn’t let her. I’d tie her to the fucking bed if I had to. Remind her who she belonged to. That she was my wife.
Mine.
I was unhinged, and I knew it. But I was also beyond caring. She could have been hurt tonight, and it was more than I could stand.
Destiny had some serious fucking explaining to do.
But first, it was my turn.