#hideway

“Every other woman in this room seems to be pleased to have him around,” she whispers in your ear, already setting her eyes on Ransom too. “I’ll give it a try.”

“It’s your funeral,” you quip, eyeing the buffet. “While you become his snack, I’ll have a party on my own. Once again.”

“Y/N don’t be a spoilsport again. You always try to stay away from parties and fun. Let yourself go for once,” she walks away, pushes her tits higher as she makes her way toward Ransom.

“I’m not a spoilsport,” muttering under your breath you turn your attention toward the food. “Uh—this looks good. I got the feeling this will be a pleasant evening.”

“Same, sweet thing,” a deep voice purrs next to you. “I feared this will be another boring party until,” he steps closer to place one hand onto your hip and press his lips to your ear, “my eyes landed on you, baby.”

A shiver runs down your spine and you feel nausea as the man stands behind you to place his hand on your waistline.

“Hands-off,” you growl. It's the only warning the man gets before you ram your elbow into his stomach, making him groan. “No one touches me without permission,” you twirl around to pour your drink into his face.

“I think the lady told you to get lost,” the man you tried to not pay attention to all night growls, stepping closer to the man touching you moments ago. “Now get out of my sight before I lose my composure.”

You quirk a brow, amused by Ransom’s demeanor. He puffs his chest, hand patting the gun hidden under his jacket.

“I—I just wanted to introduce myself to this pretty lady, Sir. I didn’t know she’s with you.” The man stammers, ready to run for his life. “Please excuse me.”

“Well, well,” Ransom steps closer toward the man, sniffing in his direction. “I smell fear, and I think you sweat like a whore in a church right now,” the mobster smirks as the man walks backward. “Do you want to end this lovely evening alive or six feet under?”

“I’m sorry—Sir! I swear I didn’t know she’s your girl.”

“She’s not mine,” you’d like to huff at Ransom’s words but prefer to turn your attention back toward the food, “…and I don’t want you to apologize to me. Tell this lovely girl you are sorry.”

“Miss, I’m sorry for touching you,” the man stammers, feeling his legs are about to give in. “Please accept my apology.”

Ransom nods at his men, silently telling them to get rid of the man laying hands on you. He doesn’t need to say a word. All of his men know there is one rule no man should break.

Never lay hands on Ransom Drysdale’s wife…

“Ransom, I told you none of this would have happened if only you’d tell anyone I am your wife,” you march toward your bedroom, muttering insults.

“Doll, I told you it’s too dangerous. I cannot risk losing you,” hot on your heels Ransom tries to stop you. “I love you too much.”

“I love you too but hiding our relationship does not keep me safe,” you twirl around to jab your finger into his chest. “Tonight, that douche laid hands on me, Ran.”

“I—he,” he’s on you in a blink, kisses you fiercely to forget that man had the chance to put his hands on you. “I will never let anyone touch you again.”

“How?”

“You win,” he sighs against your lips. “I’m telling the world you are my girl…”

>> Part 3