Why not add another jab in there while I can? He fucking deserves it.
Carl walks towards to Mira and stands over her, intentionally trying to intimidate her.
“You know, I expect this kind of whorish behavior from my galvanizing half-brother, but not from my step-daughter,” he says, breathing in her face. “You’re a smart, accomplished young woman who I thought would be an asset to my family. Not some fucking slut.”
I see red. Watching and hearing him talk to her like that enrages me, and I can’t hold it in any longer.
I run up and shove Carl away. “Watch your fucking mouth.”
“I don’t have to listen to you,” Carl snarls at me like some fucking predator. “You’re just a dirty fucking uncle who can’t keep his dick in his pants and fucks his niece in desperation.”
“Stop.” I clench my jaw, and my muscles tense; he isn’t worth it. “I don’t care what you call me or accuse me of but leave Mira out of this.”
“Why? She’s the dumb slut who’s willing to throw her whole life away and ruin the reputation of her company just because she wanted to fuck her uncle.”
“Stop, please!” Mira cries. “Nothing happened!”
“It’s okay,” I say, trying to reassure her, even though I’m not sure if it is. I turn to Carl. “Okay, first of all, I’m her step-uncle—big distinction there.”
“Who cares!” Carl explodes, waving his arms frantically. “Family is family!”
Mira and I both slink back, not knowing what to say. I guess I just really felt like fucking her and She’s really fucking hot wouldn’t be considered good enough excuses.
“But hey, if we’re all just fucking each other,” Carl grabs Mira’s wrists suddenly and pulls her into him. “Why not fuck your new daddy, too? Isn’t that what you like, you little slut?”
Mira grimaces as she tries to pull away from him. I see his hand move down toward her breasts, and I fucking lose it.
I run up to him and grab him by his shoulders. I lift him up off the ground, and his disgusting face contorts in fear and anger.
I hear Mira scream, “No, don’t do it!”
But it’s too late for that.
Chapter 16
Mira
“Don’t do it!” I scream, even as Owen’s fist lands in Carl’s right eye socket.
His punch loosens the sweaty grip my disgusting stepfather has on my wrists and knocks me off balance.
Steadying myself on the wobbly card table I use for additional workspace, I turn back to the men just in time to see Carl stumble backward from another blow that would impress Mike Tyson. Owen might be slightly out of my age range, but he definitely dedicates plenty of time to his body.
And it’s only fair that I return the favor by dedicating my time to his body as well. As a thank you, of course, for beating the shit out of my mother’s creepy husband.
“How fucking deranged are you?” Owen yells, holding Carl’s off-the-rack collar in his hands inches from Carl’s face. “I should call your new wife right now and tell her how disgusting you are.”
Owen is using Carl as a rag doll just shaking him around the room. I dip out of the way just in time, saving myself from being caught under Carl as he goes crashing onto the card table for a moment, before finally coming to a stop on the ground.
Being my armed guard is starting to become Owen’s thing. Seeing how his muscles flex under that designer suit with each punch or jab he lands, I’m willing to offer him the job starting immediately. It comes with great benefits.
Okay, one benefit: my willingness to let him do whatever he wants to me whenever he wants.
“I was proving a point, you jackass,” Carl says, propping his elbow on his knee, my sketches and designs now scattered all over the floor.
He’s slumped over like he’s looking for his dignity down there. Talk about a fruitless search.
“Yeah, well, don’t be surprised if she proves a point by divorcing you and taking you for everything you own,” Owen says, extending a hand to help Carl up. “Unless you have a prenup.”