stand on my own two feet. Derrick had propped me up for so long, I wasn’t sure I even remembered how. I didn’t have a job or any skills to land on. All I had was a useless college degree and a sister who would take me in without hesitation.
Those thoughts were for later. For now, my focus was on getting out of our home and away from the stranger who called himself my husband.
I made it to the bedroom before Derrick was on me again, trapping me in his arms. He spoke hot, frantic words in my ear while he held me tight. “You have nowhere to go. You can’t leave me, Claire. You can’t. I messed up, but I’ll fix it. This is not the end. I don’t accept it.”
“Let go of me.” I struggled in his hold, turning and twisting, but his arms were iron vises, and his breathing had reached a fever pitch, ragged and rough. I’d been scared of my husband’s explosive temper before, but not like this. Fear had cracked my icy veneer, rushing through my veins like venom.
“I won’t. You’re my wife.”
He held me tighter, kissing every part of me his lips could find. “Don’t leave, baby. Stay.”
I scratched at his arms and hands, yelling for him to let me go, tears filling my eyes, panic taking root in my gut. He only held me harder, kissed me with more fervor. Adrenaline spiked in my blood. If I didn’t fight, I’d lose. I stepped on his bare foot with my heel, digging in hard. He grunted in pain and his arms fell away as he stumbled back.
I whirled around while backing toward the nightstand to my cell phone. Never in a million years had I thought I’d need protection from Derrick, but the wild look in his eyes sent chills down my spine.
He started toward me, and I picked up the phone, dialed 911 before I could doubt myself, but hesitated to press send. When his gaze landed on my phone, shock wiped the snarl and anger from his face. His glassy eyes widened, and he sucked in a deep breath.
“Are you scared of me, Claire-bear?” He held his hands out, pleading. “You have to know I would never hurt you.”
“But you did, Derrick. You’ve hurt me.”
“I know, I know I messed up. God, baby, you think I don’t know? But I’d never hurt you physically.”
I rubbed the sore spots on my arms and took another step away. “You did that too.”
“No,” he rasped. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant to do. You did it, and now we’re through.” Conviction still held strong in my voice, but I’d gotten shakier and off-balance.
His muscles bunched, and I knew, without a shred of doubt, I had to get out of there. The second he came for me, I darted for the door, but I never had a chance. Derrick's arm shot out, and that was the last thing I saw before it all went dark.
Chapter Two
Dominic
Naked as the day I was born, I picked up my guitar from beside my bed and laid it across my lap. I strummed a chord idly while staring up at the ceiling. Afternoon light shined in through my open windows, warming my bare skin. It wasn’t a bad way to kill some time.
I could have done without the woman rushing around, redressing herself like the open air was burning her skin.
“Slow down.”
Stopping, she turned her dark brown eyes on me. I knew that look. I’d lived with that look for years. Nothing good ever came of it.
“This can’t happen again.” She hopped around, slipping on her heels.
I leaned my head back again, dragging my hand across my forehead. This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation. “Come on, Iz. We don’t need to play that game. It’s no fun.”
Isabela Ruiz, my former wife and now the ruler of my kingdom, marched to the side of the bed, standing over me. She’d gone from the afterglow to sleek and pissed off in the span of five minutes. Her raven waves tumbled over her shoulders, no worse for wear. Her makeup was barely smudged, although her signature red lipstick had vanished.
Most of it around my dick.
She pointed a French-manicured finger from her chest to mine. “You’re right. This isn’t fun, Dom. I came here to talk about a press release—not wind up in your sheets.”
“Don’t act like I had to convince you to be there.”