My eyes narrow as they roam over his face. Without the swollen, bleeding nose, he’d be a good-looking lad. A pretty boy. His teeth are abnormally white, his stubble a little too careful, and his eyebrows are definitely plucked. I can’t imagine Tiggy with him. No, fuck that. I don’twantto imagine Tiggy with him.
“How long were you together?”
He blinks in surprise. I guess it wasn’t the question he thought I would ask. It would be almost comical if I didn’t want to rip his fucking face off.
“Eight months.”
I drive a fist into his jaw, snapping his head back while Paddy holds him still.
“When did it end?” I growl.
“Almost two months ago.”
There’s silence in the alleyway, except for his labored breathing. Motherfucker. They broke up right before our wedding.
“So recently?” I force a feral grin. “Trouble in paradise?”
He looks truly terrified now, as he well should be.
“She came to me, told me she was getting married in a few weeks, and so it was over. I haven’t heard from her since,” he babbles.
It’s a hollow fucking victory. Tiggy might not have contacted him, but she only broke things off because we were getting married. Eight months. Did she love him? Does she still love him?
Another feral growl tears from me at the thought. Pulling out my flick knife, I watch with satisfaction as all the blood drains from the fucker’s face. Paddy watches silently.
Pointing the knife in his face, I speak slowly so he doesn’t miss a fucking word.
“You touched what was mine.”
He’s shaking his head, and he’s pissed himself.
“No. I told you. The moment she knew she was getting married, we broke up, and I haven’t seen her since,” he stutters, falling silent as I move the knife closer to his nose.
“Paddy,” I speak without taking my eyes off this weasel. “Did we, or did we not, just remove Ant’s hands from my wife’s body?”
“And so we did, Seamus,” Paddy replies easily. The weak prick is definitely pissing himself now.
“And did my wife, or did she not, tell him to let her go?”
“And so she did, Seamus.”
“And did my wife, or did she not, tell him that he was hurting her?”
Ant’s eyes are so wide with fear they’re almost white.
“And so she did, Seamus,” Paddy replies for the third time.
“I’m sorry,” Ant whimpers. I sneer at him. I’ve been itching to punish someone for harming Tiggy. This isn’t the Bulgarian, but he’s a good enough substitute.
My lips twist into a snarl. “Nobody lays their hands on my wife. Nobody touches what is mine.”
My hand snaps out right as Paddy’s falls away. Ant grabs his throat, gurgling as blood seeps between his fingers, and he stares at me in disbelief. As he crumples to the ground, I hand Paddy my knife.
“Get rid of him, Paddy.”
He nods, wisely keeping his fucking mouth shut as I step over the prone body and stride back inside. Back to my office to confront my wife.
TIGGY