My wife was equal parts innocent and seductive siren—the combination was beyond intoxicating. Bishop had called me obsessed, but that wasn’t it. My desire for her went beyond that. It was a chemical in my blood, overriding all logic and reason. I was addicted to the mere thought of her. She was all that mattered, and anything that threatened her would face my wrath. Fausto Mancini thought he was tough, but he had no fucking clue about the beast he’d unleashed. Ready or not, fucker. Here. I. Come.
