As Vincente abruptly pushed the girl off his lap, a hush fell over the room.
His men stared at him in stunned silence, their faces etched with a mix of fear and disbelief.
They had never seen their boss so suddenly, violently agitated. The air was thick with tension, the weight of their collective trepidation palpable.
The girl scrambled to her feet, her cheeks flushed with humiliation and fear. She smoothed down her rumpled skirt, not daring to meet anyone's gaze. "Please, I... I'm sorry if I did something wrong," she stammered, her voice choked with unshed tears.
Vincente's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light as he glared at her. "Leave," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "Get out of my sight before I change my mind about letting you go."
The girl didn't need to be told twice. She turned and fled, disappearing into the crowd of stunned onlookers.
A ripple of whispers and murmurs followed in her wake as she hurried out of the room.
Enzo stepped forward, his expression one of concern and caution. "Boss, is everything alright?" he asked, his deep voice tinged with worry. "Perhaps you should take a moment to collect yourself before..." He trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.
Vincente cut him off with a sharp, dismissive gesture. "I don't need to collect myself," he snapped, his voice dripping with barely contained rage. "I need to leave. Now." He stood abruptly, his chair clattering to the floor behind him.
Enzo nodded, his jaw tightening as he signaled to the other men. "I'll handle the party, boss. Make sure everything runs smoothly in your absence."
Vincente strode towards the door, his long legs eating up the distance.
His men parted like the Red Sea before him, not daring to get in his way. The angry expression on his face was enough to strike fear into the hearts of even the most hardened criminals.
No one wanted to be on the receiving end of Vincente's wrath.
Vincente stormed into his grand mansion, the heavy oak doors slamming shut behind him with a resounding boom.
He tore at his tie, yanking it off and tossing it carelessly to the marble floor.
He took the sweeping staircase two at a time, his long legs eating up the distance to the master bedroom.
The plush carpet muffled his footsteps, but the fury in his eyes only intensified as he approached the closed door.
He pushed it open, the heavy wood swinging inward to reveal the spacious, opulent room beyond.
Vincente's gaze fell upon his wife, Evangeline, as she lay sleeping in their grand four-poster bed.
She was curled on her side, her face pressed into the soft down pillow, her long lashes casting shadows on her porcelain cheeks.
Her long brown hair, was splayed across the pillow and over her delicate shoulders.
The moonlight from the open balcony doors cast a soft glow over her, making her look like an angelic vision.
Evangeline's chest rose and fell with each gentle breath, her pink full lips slightly parted as she breathed.
Vincente stood over Evangeline, his tall frame looming large and imposing.
He drank in the sight of her, his eyes roaming over her delicate features.
She looked so peaceful, so innocent, so untouched by the dark world that consumed him.
A frustrated growl rumbled in Vincente's chest as he watched her.
He needed her, needed to lose himself in her warmth, her softness, her purity.
The brutal kiss with the girl at the party had only fueled his desire, his desperate need to be close his little wife who could soothe the raging beast within him.
Unable to resist the urge any longer, Vincente reached out and brushed a lock of brown hair from Evangeline's face.
His calloused fingers, rough from years of violence and cruelty, gently tucked the silky strand behind her ear.
He longed to feel that silky hair against his skin, to bury his face in the them and breathe in her sweet scent.
Vincente's hand drifted down to Evangeline's shoulder, his fingers curling around the delicate bone.
He gave a gentle squeeze, feeling the warmth.
Evangeline stirred from her peaceful slumber, a soft murmur escaping her lips as she felt the unfamiliar sensation of someone's mouth on her neck.
Her brow furrowed slightly, and she began to surface from the depths of sleep, her mind foggy and disoriented.
Suddenly, her eyes flew open wide as she felt the wet, sloppy kisses trailing along the sensitive skin of her neck.
She gasped sharply, a jolt of shock and fear shooting through her body. Evangeline scrambled backwards on the bed, putting some much-needed distance between herself and the unknown assailant.
"Vincente?" she gasped out, her voice hoarse from sleep and laced with terror. "What are you doing? You scared me!"
Evangeline's heart raced in her chest as she stared at her husband with wide, frightened eyes.
She clutched the silk sheets to her chest like a shield, the fabric slipping off one creamy shoulder.
Evangeline's gaze darted to the clock on the bedside table, noting the late hour.
She knew Vincente often worked late into the night, but he had never come to her in such a state before.
The wild, almost manic look in his eyes sent a chill down her spine.
Vincente's eyes flashed with a dangerous, almost feral light as Evangeline tried to pull away from him.
He tightened his grip on her ankle, his fingers digging into her soft skin hard enough to leave bruises.
With a sharp tug, he yanked her down the bed, causing her to lose her balance and fall back against the silken sheets.
Evangeline let out a yelp of fear and surprise, her heart pounding wildly in her heaving chest. "Vincente, stop!" she cried out, her voice trembling with terror. "You're hurting me!"
Ignoring her pleas, Vincente crawled over her, pinning her little body beneath his much larger frame.
His hands roamed greedily over her curves, slipping beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown to grope and squeeze the soft flesh beneath.
"Please, don't do this," Evangeline begged, her blue eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears. "I... I'm on my period. It's not a good time..." She tried to squirm away from his touch, but his weight held her firmly in place.
Vincente paused, his hand stilling on her hip as he processed her words.