“It’s okay, Johnny.” A voice colder than ice comes from behind the ninja assassin.
Johnny steps aside and then directly in front of me I see the asshole himself—Damon Wolf. I lurch forward to drop him on the spot, but his bodyguard stops me. He’s got my arms twisted behind my back, so I use my feet and kick his shins—hard.
He doesn’t make a sound or move a muscle, except to pull tighter on my arms. It feels like he might pull them out of the sockets if he pulls any harder.
Turning my head, I try to spit in his face, but he picks me up and quickly slams my head into an overhead compartment. I can feel a faint trickle of liquid oozing down my face as he sets me down.
With my head throbbing, I stare at the man in front of me. “Where is she!”
“She’s safe with me. You don’t need to worry about her.” Hearing this, I want to punch the smug look right the fuck off his face.
“Ivy,” I yell and again flatten my work boot against the guy’s shin. This time he clocks my face on the small counter and I think my nose just might be broken. “Fuckkkk,” I yell and when I look up I see her.
“Stop it!” she screams.
I wipe the blood from my face and stare at her. She’s wearing a tight white dress that hugs her curves perfectly. The neck is high and so is the hemline. Her hair is pulled back and her sapphire earrings sparkle in the morning light shining through the windows. I let out a huge sigh of relief that she’s all right. Searching her body for signs of abuse, I see none—none that appear physical anyway. But she looks at me with a deep sadness I’ve never seen in her eyes before and my heart slams out of my rib cage. Adrenaline spikes through me and I manage to somehow free myself. I shove Damon out of my way and move toward her.
“Come with me,” I tell her, wiping my palms on my jeans before trying to take her hand.
“I can’t,” she whispers and pulls her hands behind her back.
My knees buckle at her words, and the ninja is on me again.
“Leave him alone,” she orders in a much sterner voice. She then looks at Damon. “You said you’d leave him alone.”
“And I will, my angel, when he leaves us alone.”
Us. I feel like I might puke right here. I look at Ivy and then I can see it—her eyes are red and swollen, her face looks lifeless, but she regards me with what I think is pity.
“That’s not going to happen.” I direct the statement to Damon and shift slightly before finding her eyes again. “Ivy, what’s going on?”
She doesn’t answer me, but repeats herself, this time screaming at Damon. “You said you’d leave him alone.”
My eyes are narrowed on her and I’m moving closer now that there is room. “I don’t need you or anyone else to fight my battles.” The closer I get to her, the faster my heart beats. Without any hesitation, I run my hand down her cheek. But before I can talk to her, the wind is knocked out of me by a swift punch in my side, and then my arms are restrained again. Sucking in a painful breath, I narrow my eyes at Damon. I would kill him in a minute if I knew I could get away with it.
“How about you and me outside—now,” I hiss.
“Xander, Xander, Xander. So much like your father.”
My eyes slam to Ivy, who noticeably flinches, and back to him. Everything about him is revolting. His words infuriate me, set my blood on fire, and I turn, trying to move toward him, consumed by a rage I haven’t felt since the day I saw my sister’s fingers bleeding. But again I’m blocked by his bodyguard. “Now, listen, Xander. You don’t want to end up like your father, do you?”
My father’s last words haunt me—Damon Wolf. I spit in his face and this time I hit my mark. “What do you know about my father?” I spit out.
Removing a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his cheek, he says, “I’ll give you that one, but now you need to walk away and know she’ll be happy with me.”
Ivy’s cries turn into sobs.
“Ivy, angel, stop crying and come here.”
She doesn’t move.
“Ivy! Come over here so we don’t have to shout,” he commands, his eyes speaking to her in a language I don’t understand. She walks with trepidation toward him. She’s shaking and I know she’s scared. He takes her hand and I cringe, again trying to free myself.
“We have an announcement and you’re going to be the first to hear it. In fact, you can be the first to congratulate us. We got married today.”
Her face pleads with me for something—understanding, maybe—and the sudden pain that strikes my body is unbearable. I try to struggle free, but the adrenaline surge I had is gone.
She looks at me a moment longer before his barking voice commands, “Angel, tell him how much you missed me. Tell him how you begged me to forgive you, to take you back because you loved me. How much you regretted leaving me. Tell him how it took him to make you see I was right for you.”
“Damon, please stop,” she says to him, with tears streaming down her face.
My gut twists with disgust. “Ivy?”