Page 40 of The Billionaire's Distraction

He’d hit her.

Tony had seen it on the feed.But seeing the bruise forming on her soft skin—on his Naomi—ignited something primal in him.The kind of fury that destroyed men.The kind of fury that burned cities to the ground.

Her hiccupping whisper cut through his storm.“Are you leaving me?”

He swallowed hard.“I just need to do one thing,” he told her, his voice rough.

She studied him, her lashes wet, her expression trembling between fear and bravery.Then she nodded, clutching the tattered edges of her shirt around her.“Before you… do anything to him,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “would you contact his ex-wife?So, she can stay with the boys?They’re going to need someone to take care of them.”

Tony froze.Even now—broken, sobbing, shaken to her very core—she was thinking of those boys.That disgusting bastard’sboys.Protecting them even though their own father had just tried to destroy her.

His throat tightened.He stroked her hair, his touch gentler than he’d thought himself capable of.“Yes,” he promised.His voice cracked with conviction.He looked up at Sal, his gaze hard.“Tell Ben or Lizzy—find the mother.Bring her to the house.”

Sal was already moving, reaching for the door.Paulo followed, closing the door behind him to give them privacy.

Tony sat back down, and Naomi settled back into his lap without hesitation, curling into him as though he were the only safe place left in the world.Her nose pressed to his neck, her arms tight around his shoulders.

Exactly where she belonged.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice hoarse but steady.

His grip tightened.His lips brushed the top of her head tenderly.

In his chest, the fury coiled tighter, sharper, harder.For Naomi’s tears, for her trembling, for the bruise on her cheek, Tom Peterson’s hours were numbered.

Chapter 23

Tomgroaned,slumpedinthe leather chair behind his desk, a bag of half-frozen peas pressed gingerly against his swollen groin.The ache radiated upward into his gut, sharp and unrelenting, and every sip of bourbon only dulled the edge for a moment before the pain flared back to life.

“Stupid bitch,” he muttered, his voice slurred in a half-growl, half-whine.He tipped the glass back, gulping down another burn of liquor.“Fightin’ dirty like that.Should’ve just laid back and enjoyed what I wanted to give her.Not like she isn’t spreadin’ for that Italian bastard anyway.”

The words echoed in the empty office, bitter and sour.He winced, shifting the peas, biting back another groan as the cold pressed into his bruised flesh.

Upstairs, the creak of small footsteps hit his ears, followed by the hesitant voices of his boys, then their obnoxious feet scrambling down the stairway.He really needed to get some carpeting on those damn stairs!

“Daddy?”Jacob called out, poking his head through the open office door.“Where’s Naomi?”His voice was soft, uncertain, and it irritated Tom even more.

Tom glared toward the door, bourbon sloshing over the rim of his glass.“Get out!”he roared.“Out of my office!”

The boys scrambled, their retreating footsteps clattering down the hall, the sound of their laughter and chatter from earlier gone.Silence returned, broken only by the drip of condensation from the pea bag and Tom’s ragged breathing.

Then the doorbell rang.

Tom flinched.“Maria!”he barked, waiting for the housekeeper’s footsteps.None came.He shifted the peas again, hissing at the stab of pain.“Maria!Answer the damn door!”

The bell rang again.Louder.Longer.

Tom slammed the bag of peas down on the desk, scattering frost and condensation across the wood.Muttering curses, he staggered to his feet, adjusting his slacks and nearly doubling over from the pain in his groin.He shuffled through the hall, his irritation mounting with every painful step.

When he yanked the door open, his scowl froze on his face.

Melissa stood there.His ex-wife.Damn, he’d thought that he’d finally destroyed that bitch.But here she was, standing tall and confident.Where the hell was the defeated woman who had been fired and kicked out of her home?He’d liked that woman!She’d been a masterpiece of manipulation!

Gone was her former defeat.Right now, her expression was tight, her chin lifted in brittle defiance.But before he could spit out a single insult, he caught sight of who stood behind her.

Tony Mancini.Broad, towering, dark-eyed, with two men flanking him, both of whom radiated the kind of menace that clung to predators.They weren’t smiling.They didn’t need to.

Melissa brushed past Tom without hesitation, her arms opening wide as the boys rushed to her, clinging to her.“Momma!”Mark and Jacob called out in unison.“You’re back!”