With a nod, I gesture him into the room I’ve taken over in the rectory. The guests can wait. After what just happened, I have a pressing need to deal with Abel first.

His gaze moves over me in swift and cunning appraisal. He thinks he is quite clever. So certain he has me fooled with his respectful façade.

I take a sip of my smoked scotch and set the glass on the table before returning his gaze. “Did I fail to make you aware of how I felt about Ivy being touched by anyone other than myself?”

He shifts his weight as his face pales in the dim room. I can see his mind working, wondering how I could possibly know how he just grabbed Ivy in the chapel. I could tell him, but that would ruin the illusion that I have eyes everywhere, and I want him to feel it.

“I’m not sure I understand—”

I take two steps toward him, my face a mask of serenity. He isn’t anticipating it when I slam my fist into his gut, and he doubles over, coughing and sputtering like he’s never taken a punch in his life. His ignorance and weakness only serve to fuel my infuriation. I hit him twice more in the gut before he collapses to his knees and curls into a fetal position, choking out his repentance.

“I thought you wanted me to keep her in line.”

“It’s my job to keep her in line.” I ease my leather oxford against his throat, pressing until he’s clawing at me with wide, panicked eyes.

From the doorway, my best man and close friend Judge watches with a bored expression. There is nobody who would stop me from draining the life from Abel even at this very moment.

“Repeat after me.” I dig my heel into his throat so hard his eyes bulge from his face. “After you walk her down the aisle and give me what is mine, you will never touch Ivy again.”

“I won’t,” he croaks, digging his nails into the tops of my shoes, destroying a perfectly good pair of Italian leather.

For that offense, I release the pressure on his throat and force the tip of my shoe between his teeth so hard, I can hear them cracking as he gags and gasps for air. Once I am satisfied that he has tasted the dirt he is worthy of, I smear his bloody spit across his chin and leave him lying there as he stares up at me in disbelief.

“Fucking Moreno.” I spit the words out and retrieve my drink, choking it down in two more swallows. “Get out of my sight. Now.”

He drags himself upright, unable to look at me as he heads for the door with his fists clenched. Judge steps aside, and Abel disappears down the hall as I turn back to the mirror to adjust my clothing.