Chapter 97: I was assaulted.

"Hey, yoo, chill!"

One of the men raises his hands, taking a step toward me.

His friend slaps him hard on the chest.

"That’s the fucking Don you’re talking to!"

The man’s face drains of color.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck!"

It’s almost amusing how quickly their confidence disappears when they realize the person standing in front of them isn’t someone they can talk their way out of trouble with.

A moment ago, they were laughing about my wife. Now, none of them seems capable of looking me in the eye.

"It was a long time ago, man," the one who spoke about Nerissa stammers. "We were high schoolers back then."

I tilt my head.

"And?"

He swallows.

"And what?"

"You’re telling me you were younger then. What exactly am I supposed to do with that information?"

He glances at his friends, hoping one of them will come to his rescue.

Nobody does.

I take a step closer.

"Let me make sure I understand this. You have intimate pictures of my wife."

"I don’t have them here, man. I swear."

"That’s not what I asked."

He runs a hand over his face.

"We were just..."

He hesitates.

Then he makes the mistake of opening his mouth again.

"She was practically asking for it."

For a second, everything goes silent, inside my head, there is nothing but the need to kill him.

I cross the distance between us before he can say jack and my fist connects with his face.

The satisfying crunch of his nose breaking is followed by a scream as he stumbles backward, crashing into one of his friends. Blood pours between his fingers when he brings his hands to his face.

"FUCK!"

His friends jump apart.

One of them reaches toward me, then thinks better of it when I turn my head.

"Jesus!" he shouts. "What the fuck, man?"

I ignore him.

My attention remains on the bastard clutching his nose.

"Say that again."

He stares at me through watering eyes.

"What?"

"What you just said about my wife. Say it again."

He shakes his head frantically.

I step toward him.

"That’s what I thought."

"Come on, man. It was years ago. We were stupid kids."

I lean closer.

"If I ever hear that you’ve shown those pictures to anyone, sent them to anyone, or even mentioned them again, I’ll come looking for you. And the next time, breaking your nose will be the least of your problems."

I straighten my jacket and walk out, leaving them to deal with their bleeding friend.

My hands are still clenched when I reach our table.

Nerissa is laughing at something Isabella has said, her glass resting between her fingers. Her head is tilted back, and her eyes are bright with alcohol and amusement.

I stop beside her chair.

"Get up. We’re leaving."

Her laughter dies as she slowly, she lifts her eyes to mine.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

She gives me a look that could wither a flower.

Normally, I’d enjoy the challenge. I’d say something deliberately infuriating just to watch her temper flare. But the image of that bastard laughing about pictures of her keeps replaying in my head.

I want to find him again, I want to know how many people have seen those pictures, whether he has shared them, and how he got the pictures.

But I don’t know any of that yet and I’m not about to discuss it in the middle of a crowded bar.

"Now, Nerissa."

Her eyes narrow.

For a moment, I think she’s going to tell me to go to hell but she doesn’t prhaps she realizes I’m not in the mood for another argument.

She pushes her chair back.

"Fine."

She turns to Isabella and pulls her into a hug.

"Goodnight, Bella."

Isabella looks between us.

"Already? But we just got here!"

"Some people have an unfortunate talent for ruining perfectly good evenings."

Her eyes flick toward me and I resist the urge to roll mine.

Nerissa hugs Victoria next, whispers something in her ear, and picks up her handbag.

Then she follows me out.

When we reach the car, I open the passenger door for her but she e doesn’t get in.

Instead, she whirls around to face me, her eyes flashing.

"What the fuck is stuck up your ass?"

I stare at her.

"Get in the car, Nerissa."

"Not until you explain what the fuck your problem is."

I exhale through my nose.

"Oh, you want to know?"

"I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t intend to."

I look at her for a moment, wondering how to explain what I heard without making the situation worse.

I remember the way those men laughed, the way one of them described her body as though she were an object put on this earth for his entertainment.

My jaw tightens.

"Fine. I don’t give a fuck if you fucked half the world before we got married. What I don’t appreciate is your ex-boyfriends or whatever the hell they are flaunting it in my face!"

Nerissa stares at me as though I’ve suddenly grown another head.

"What the hell are you talking about?. Not like it’s any of your business but I’ve only had three sexual partners."

"Oh so the men in the bathroom were lying?.."

"What men?"

"The men from your high school. One of them still has intimate pictures of you, talking about how hot your body is."

The color drains from her face.

Her lips part slightly, but no words come out.

I watch the transformation, confused by the sudden stillness.

A moment ago, she was ready to tear my head off. Now she looks as though she’s in shock.

Then, slowly, the shock gives way to anger.

"Thanks, Lysander."

Her voice is dangerously quiet.

"Thanks a fucking lot."

I frown.

"What?"

"Thanks for reminding me about the time I was assaulted."

I stop breathing.

"What?"

She lets out a bitter laugh.

"I was assaulted in high school. I went to a party, had one too many drinks, and blacked out. I don’t even remember what happened that night."