Page 29 of The Don's Secret Heir

Rage floats over my vision and I don’t realize Selena is talking until she says my name.

“Hmm?”

She huffs out a breath. “You’re distracted.”

“I’m sorry,” I say earnestly, and I really am. I’ve been trying to get Selena into my bed for weeks, and now I can’t focus.

She frowns as I pull out my phone, checking Liana’s location. She’s at a dive bar downtown, one that we used to go to. Anger rushes over me, making my face heat up.

“Something wrong with work?”

“Yeah,” I say quickly, downing the rest of my glass of wine and standing up. I can’t do this anymore. I have to make sure she’s safe. She met this guy online, for God’s sake. Who knows who he is or what he wants? “Sorry, sweetheart. I gotta go.”

She looks up at me, aghast. “You’re justleavingme here?”

I throw down a few hundred dollars onto the table.

“Should be enough for a cab. Rain check?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You’ll never see me again, Dario Conte.”

I look at her for a moment longer and then sigh. “Too bad.”

I stalk out of the restaurant, getting into my car and taking off toward downtown. That dive bar is in the shittiest part of town anyway.

When I get there, Liana and her boy toy walk out of the dive bar. My teeth grit so hard my jaw aches when I see him take her hand.

I want to pull all my hair out, slam my fists into the steering wheel, but instead, I just watch.

I get out of the car after they turn the corner, walking a few lengths behind them. He squeezes her hand, chatting idly as she looks up at him with a smile.

What’s he saying that’s so fucking funny?

They’re walking to the parking garage. He stops at her car and she looks up at him like he hung the moon.

I want to scream.

When he leans down to kiss her, I lose it, rage blacking out my vision. I rush toward them, punching the blond in the face before his lips can touch Liana’s.

Liana screams and tries to tug me off him but I can’t think, just throwing my fist into his face over and over.

Finally, she tugs me off him and he scrambles up, spitting out blood and sprinting toward a black sportscar.

Breathing hard, I watch him drive away.

“What the fuck iswrongwith you?” Liana demands to know, but I don’t have an answer for her.

I lost it. Again.

“You bring out the fucking worst in me,” I say, my chest still heaving as I back her up against her car.

“He was really nice!” she argues.

I snort. “Nice. He was trying to get into your pants.”

She puts her hands on her hips. “And what if I was going to let him?”

“Not in my fucking house, you won’t,” I growl.