Ana's POV
Will and his bodyguards had scrambled back to their feet.
But Preston and his crew were blocking the exit—they weren't going anywhere.
The second Ridley stepped through that door, his eyes locked onto me and wouldn't let go.
My hair was tangled, my dress streaked with grime, and every visible patch of skin bore the evidence of what I'd endured—bruises in various shades of purple and blue.
It was obvious to anyone with eyes that I'd been through hell.
Something dark and heavy settled in Ridley's chest, and when he turned to face Will, his stare could've cut glass.
"Will! You laid hands on my wife?" Ridley's voice was deadly quiet.
Even caught in the act, Will didn't flinch.
"She crossed Aileen. Someone had to put her in her place," he said with a casual shrug.
"What gives you the right to touch what's mine?" Ridley's control snapped.
Ridley released Preston and closed the distance between them, his fist connecting with Will's jaw in one swift motion.
