16: Strip!

XAVIER

Seeing his face bloody and unrecognizable wasn’t enough for me.

I wanted him dead.

He touched my wife!

So I kept slamming my fist into his face over and over again, disfiguring it more and more and causing the man to sputter out blood from his mouth.

"Mr. Santos,” A voice, I assumed the manager’s rang out from behind me as he rushed over, but that didn’t stop me from punching the man.

“Mr. Santos, I don’t think this is—” he started to speak again when he got close to me, his expression a mix of fear and worry.

But the rest of his words cut off when I snapped my head in his direction, my eyes blazing.

“If you don’t want this entire establishment to shut down in the next thirty minutes, you had better get this piece of shit out of my sight,” I was referring to the asshole that deemed it fit to touch my wife.

“Right away sir,” he said and scurried away.

I turned to look at my wife, her expression a mix of fear and horror.

“You are coming with me,” I growled before taking her hand and dragging her out of the club, Castor right behind us. The cool night air did nothing to calm my temper as I helped her into the car, trying to keep her dress from fluttering with the wind.

This fucking dress.

The silence in the car on our way to the hotel was deafening, the atmosphere choking, pregnant with tension so thick, I could cut through it with a knife. The air became so hot like the air conditioners suddenly stopped working, my anger simmering beneath the surface.

Lillian couldn’t dare to look me in the eye, her attention everywhere else but me as she fondled with her fingers.

All I could think of were ways to punish her.

In no time, we reached the hotel, and again I helped her down the vehicle. I took her hand in mine, feeling it tense as I led her through the lobby. The hostesses flashed us smiles as we walked past them to the elevator, but in my peripheral vision, I could see them gossip and whisper amongst themselves.

Great!

“You know what? Fuck this!” Lillian finally spoke up as soon as we entered the elevator, turning to look at me while I stared ahead. “I didn’t do anything wrong, Xavier! This was on you! Not me!”

I continued staring ahead.

“You literally forced me here on a goddamn honey moon that I didn’t want to come for, and as soon as we got here, you dumped me for a meeting. What the hell were you expecting me to do? Sit down and wait for you?”

I still didn’t say anything.

“Oh, you suddenly can’t speak now, Mr Santos?” She began to taunt me when she realized her attempt to get me to speak wasn’t working. “Or is your ego still bruised at the fact that you saw me dry humping that hot guy at the club?” She scoffed this time.

Hot guy? I suppressed a scoff, her mission to get a reaction from me proving futile.

I’ll show her.

When we reached the suite, she freed her hand from my hold and stormed off into the bedroom. I followed her, my strides unhurried.

“You have no right getting pissed at me, do you understand!” she snapped, wagging her finger at me. I ignored her theatrics, stepping into the room and turning the locks.

I turned back, my gaze meeting hers.

“You asked for this, treating me like a fucking slave, like a damn toddler—“

The rest of her words caught in her throat when my eyes raked her body in a not-so-subtle once over, and I could see her body tense underneath my stare.

I almost smirked.

“And you decided it was a smart idea to go clubbing?” My voice was surprisingly calm. “And not just go clubbing, but grind against a fucking stranger. Is that how a married woman should behave, uhn Mrs. Santos?” I cocked a brow.

“You left me alone here, with nothing to do!” She countered, folding her arms across her chest. “Besides, I can do whatever the hell I want with my body with whomever I want.”

“No, you can’t.” My voice was hard and defiant, cutting her off. “You belong to me, and I’d have no one touch what is mine.” I took a few steps towards her, taking off my jacket and tossing it across the room.

“I am not yours,” she retorted stubbornly.

“You seem to have forgotten what I said last night,” I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt, watching as her eyes followed the movement. “I own you, and I don’t need your permission to touch you or be touched by you.”

She gulped.

“And Lilian,” I unbuttoned the first three buttons of my shirt. “You made a huge mistake offering what’s mine to another man.” I finished.

"Strip," I ordered, my voice low and menacing.