Ezra

I usually wasn't a violent person. I had patience for plenty of things, and didn't usually resort to murder as an option.

But sitting on a stool, waiting for Vincent, it was all I could think about. Murder for the stupid guy who knocked on the stupid door, making Vincent instantly pull back into his stupid, stoic face.

The man who knocked didn't enter the room. He stood in the doorway whispering to Vincent, and after a few seconds, he nodded his head and shut the door, harshly clenching his jaw.

Well that really killed the mood.

"I have to go take care of something, it will just be a few minutes. Let's go."

I nodded my head, slightly freaking out. Vincent was a quite and calm man, but even now I could tell something was bothering him. I wasn't going to outright ask him in the middle of an issue what was wrong, because there was more pressing matters, and he would tell me what I needed to know.

He led me out of the room to the bar and picked me up by the waist, and sat me on a stool with strict instructions to "Not move a single inch."

So now, sitting on a stool, contemplating murder, I felt the presence of another person beside me. I ignored them for a minute, feeling the burning stare on the side of my face that I couldn't handle, but faltered when I heard the cheesiest pickup line in all of history.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing sitting here all by herself?"

Oh so this unwanted visitor can speak? Great.

I chuckle internally at my joke as I looked beside me and saw a man, more like a boy compared to Vincent, staring straight at me. I almost wanted to laugh, this kid is delusional. I scoffed, "Get lost."

"Oh, come on. That's no way to talk to a man. Let a handsome man buy a beautiful girl a drink."

If he thinks he's a man, he's going to poop his pants when he sees Vince.

I flashed him my wedding band and ring with a smug smile, "I think I'd rather my handsome husband buy me one."

Did kissing Vince give me nerves of steel or what? I'd usually never talk like this.

"So what m, You saying is that your husband can't take a little competition, huh?" He barked out a heinous laugh, "Doesn't know how to fight or something?"

I let out an audible laugh this time, "My husband will dog walk you, so please remove yourself from my personal space."

He seemed to completely skip over my words, making a move to put his hand on my thigh and giving a very firm squeeze, "Oh c'mon, don't be such a cunt, I don't even see your 'husband'-"

He was interrupted by a deep, menacing voice, "Turn the fuck around and you'll see him."

As soon as the douche sitting next me turned his head, Vincent as quick as lightening punched him in the face, knocking him off the stool and onto the ground beside me with a thud.

Vincent stood tall over the nameless douche, and I could see the panic on his face as he started laughing hysterically, before briefly looking up at me, eyes pleading to make him stop, "Oh my God, Don Bruno. No harm right? I wasn't being serious-"

"You're telling me you weren't being serious after you touched my wife? After you put your fucking hand on her? You don't even deserve to breath the same air as her, let alone touch her." He gritted out.

The dude looked at me again, and Vincent bent down to his level, "Look at my wife again and I will cut your eyes out of your fucking skull, and feed them to your mother. My wife's not going to help you."

After a second, Vincent had some of his security guards take the dude, and instructed them to take him to the shed, which I knew was code, but didn't bother to ask.

shouldn't of been a handsy prick

Vincent then gave a couple directions to the men he was talking to, and then turned back around toward me, "Did he touch you?" He asked.

"He grabbed my thigh." I admitted, and I watched as his jaw clench, "He'll fucking die for it."

I didn't know what to say, but I figured that was the possibility, so I just nodded my head. He stayed silent for a moment, deciding on his next words before running a hand down his face, exhaustion evident in his face. "Your father just created a scene with my security." He admitted, and I didn't even know how to respond, so I stuck with a neutral, "What do you mean?"

Vincent's face was stoic, "David Gallo got drunk and demanded to speak with me, that's what caused our interruption. He has again demanded that I reconsider my marriage and choose Alice."

My eyes grew wide. In the past several days, I knew I hadn't been the best wife. I'd ignored him for days, hardly respond to his words, and we still hadn't had sex. So all in all, I had to see Vincent reconsidering me as an option.

I wrapped a hand around my stomach, suddenly self conscious as I practically whispered, "What did you tell him?" I know it sounded weak, but I was in no position to believe he would choose me all over again, we were more like roommates rather husband and wife.

Maybe he regrets this. Regrets me.

Vincent stepped closer to me, "What do you think I said?"

When I finally looked up to meet Vincent's eyes, I shrugged my shoulder. I knew what I wanted my answer to be. I wanted Vincent to tell him to fuck off. I wanted someone to finally have my back for once. But as usual, I stayed silent.

He reached his large hand out to grab my face gently, whispering down to me, "I told him if he ever brings it up again, I'm going to kill him."

I was stunned, not over the fact that my father could potentially die, but because Vincent threatened to kill a member of the families over me.

I didn't say anything, so Vince filled in, "I didn't want to just outright kill your father without mentioning it to you, I wasn't sure how you'd feel."

"I don't know how I'd feel." I answered honestly, while my dad was a piece of shit, did I really want him dead? I don't think I'd really care, but I guess he was my father.

"If he disobeys me again, he will die for it, that is nonnegotiable. I just didn't want you blind sided."

"And if I asked you not to kill him?" I don't know why I asked. I was curious I guess. I would never ask him to spare my father, but would he?

Vincent gave no indication to an answer as he pulled me closer into his side, which was probably for the best.

After the whole mess with my dad and the man at the bar, Vincent and I were both ready to leave. We both said our goodbyes, and got in the car to go home.

We made our way into the house, both going to our room to do a quick change of clothes. I went into the bathroom and took down my hair and washed off my makeup, changing into a pair of Vincent's sweatpants and teeshirt. I made my way out of the bathroom and noticed he wasn't in the room, so I decided to go into the kitchen to get a bottle of water.

As I entered I heard Vincent on the phone, and he turned around at the noise when I opened the fridge, saying a hasty goodbye to whoever he was talking to, "The man from the bar has been taken care of."

I slowly nodded my head in acknowledgement, my eyes not leaving his, while I open the water and take a drink.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, and I shrugged, "Not really."

He nodded his head and motioned for me to come closer, "C'mere. I wanna talk to you."

I made my way over to him, and he picked me up as if I weighed nothing and planted me on the edge of the counter, spreading my legs so he could stand right between them.

Vincent looked exhausted, he had slightly dark rings under his eyes and his hair looked like he ran his fingers through multiple times, "I've not been a great husband, and for that I am sorry, sweet girl."

I didn't want to further upset him, "It's okay-"

"No it isn't. I've been ignoring you, and not treating you like a husband should a wife. This is all new to me, to both of us, but your handling it and I can't say the same for myself. You are the most important thing in the world to me, okay? And from now on I'm going to try harder, and I'll be a better husband."

I nodded my head with a small smile, "I'd really appreciate that."

"I have a small surprise for you, hold on one second." He disappeared into the foyer for a second, and came back in the kitchen and presented me with two hard thick hardcover books, placing them in my hands.

I noticed the tips of his ears reddened slightly as I read the titles out loud, "The autobiography of Rhonda Deter and the Murder at the Casino?"

I looked up at Vincent who looked as unsure as I'd ever seen him, and he cleared his throat. "You don't have to read them, I can get you new ones if you'd give me the titles."

I'm going to throw up. He actually remembered.

No one had ever cared enough about me to buy me my own books. My dad thought reading was not an activity for women and would never buy me any, so I had read random books that I found, and reread books that I'd stolen from my high school library.

"This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. They are perfect, thank you." I told him, as tears filled my eyes.

Vincent pulled me to his chest, "Please don't cry, I don't like it. I'll get you however many books you want."

I was able to stop crying after another minute, my head planted on his chest as he spoke softly down to me, "Let's go to bed, yeah?" He asked, and I nodded my head and held onto him while he carried me up to our room, my heart more contented than it had ever been.

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Any thoughts or opinions?!