Tinsley had done that. Not my fury or the threat of dying. With three words, Tinsley had reduced this psychotic woman into a pitiful pile of brokenness.

Forgiveness was more powerful than revenge.

I would never ask this woman to forgive my cruelty. Nor would I ever forgive her for attempting to murder my wife.

But I could spare her life.

My fingers sprung open, releasing her hair, and I tossed away the glass bottle.

She rolled into the fetal position, wailing uncontrollably.

“Get her out of here.” I turned to the man closest to me. “Take her to the police station. Tell them I’ll come in for questioning. But I’m not available tonight.”

“Yes, sir.”

As they hauled her away, I slipped into the bathroom and pulled myself together.

It was done.

The threat had been neutralized, and I’d managed it without murder.

Because my wife had shown compassion.

Fifteen minutes later, I stepped into the ballroom and searched the crowds for a red dress. When I didn’t see her, I directed my gaze to the ceiling and spotted the mistletoe dangling from the rafters at the far end.

Anticipation sang through my blood as I made my way there, skirting around the dance floor and ignoring anyone who tried to speak to me. My focus was laser-sharp, homing in, and there she was.

She stood beneath the mistletoe with her back to me. The bodice of her red gown hugged her narrow frame with a sexy lacing closure along her spine. The skirt flared out so wide her brothers had to stand several feet away. Winston, Perry, Keaton—all three were there, smiling and laughing with her.

Lucian and Elaine joined them, and the group shifted off to the side, engaging in peaceful conversation.

A promising sign that no one would die tonight.

Lucian looked up, finding my gaze. Then his dark eyes swept over me, probably probing my tuxedo for blood, the sick fuck.

I gave him a chin lift and returned my attention to Tinsley.

Her neck stiffened then slowly rotated, bringing her eyes around to lock on mine. She touched her chin to her shoulder and smiled.

My blood heated, and my feet started moving, erasing the distance.

She turned fully and ran her hands down the skirt of her gown. Rhinestones were sewn into the off-shoulder neckline, brightly shining like tiny stars. Like her eyes.

Desire buzzed the air between us. She didn’t know I had plans for her tonight. Unholy plans. I had half a mind to throw her over my shoulder and get started on those now.

But first, she needed a dance.

And a kiss beneath the mistletoe.

I stepped into her space, and she tilted her head back to maintain eye contact.

She studied me, delving deep into my gaze. “You did the right thing.”

“How do you know?”