I writhed, struggling to throw off his weight. He leaned forward, and something hard pressed into my bottom. Bile burned the back of my throat, but his hand clamped over my open mouth to smother my scream before I could release it.

His free hand pawed at my breasts, ripping at the delicate lace on my dress. Tiny pearls popped free, pinging against the hardwood floor as he tore away my modesty. My skin crawled beneath his groping touch, and I twisted in his hold. My eyes burned with furious, terrified tears.

His breath was hot on my cheek when he licked one away and groaned like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. He reeked of stale beer and sweat, and his palm was slick when he grabbed my breast, fingernails digging into my nipple. I screamed and thrashed, but he held me firm.

It wasn’t the first time he’d grabbed me like this, but he’d never torn away my clothes before. He’d never pressed his erection against me and threatened to rape me.

My blood ran cold, suddenly flash-freezing my skin, which had been flaming hot from the exertion of fighting against him. Alberto wasn’t just threatening me. He ripped at my dress with violent intent, his drunkenness making his efforts fumbling but no less horrific.

A furious snarl rent the air, and Alberto was wrenched away from me. I gasped and whirled, clutching at the shelves behind me for support. Two darker shadows grappled in the dimly lit library. The larger man tackled Alberto to the ground and reared back to land a vicious punch across his jaw.

The light filtering in from the corridor illuminated Luca’s face, twisted with possessive fury. The little breath I’d managed to take in was knocked from my lungs at the sight of his handsome features sharpened by rage—his strong jaw anvil hard and his dark eyes glittering with menace. His huge hands wrapped around my cousin’s throat, and Alberto thrashed beneath him, his heels drumming against the floor as he struggled to breathe.

Luca’s lips peeled back from his teeth, and he growled into my assailant’s purple face, squeezing harder. Alberto writhed and tried to pry his fingers from his throat, but my husband didn’t shift so much as an inch, not even when Alberto landed a wild, weak punch to the side of his head. Luca shook it off and leaned in closer to him, a murderous light in his eyes.

“You touched my wife,” he ground out, the words so gravelly they were barely discernible.

Alberto’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but no sound came out other than gagging noises. His heels slowed their staccato beat on the floor, and his arms stopped flailing. My cousin was dying.