When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)(49)

Ras’s eyes darken. “On purpose?”

“Yes. He grabbed my ass, okay? He tried to play it off like he was just helping me with my dress, but I’m not that gullible.”

Ras’s jaw clenches. He gives me a terrifying smile and pats my cheek. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Ras, it’s not a big de—”

He’s already up, prowling toward the door Benjamin disappeared behind.

I jump to my feet. “Ras, don’t—”

The door flies open. I catch a flash of Benjamin’s panicked face before Ras blocks him from my view.

“Sir?” Benjamin squeaks, sounding appropriately frightened. “What’s wrong—”

Ras grabs him by the neck, forces him backward, and slams him against the wall.

“Shit,” I mutter, running after them and pulling the door closed. We don’t need any witnesses.

“You fucked with the wrong girl, Ben,” Ras growls.

He loosens his fingers just enough for Benjamin to squeal, “What did I do? I didn’t do anything! This is a misunder—”

“Ms. Garzolo told me you touched her inappropriately the last time she was here.”

“I di-didn’t!”

“Are you saying Ms. Garzolo is a liar?”

Benjamin’s eyes look on the verge of bursting out of his head. “No, of course not.”

“She said you walked in on her changing in one of these rooms. Did you, or is she lying?”

“I-I-I—” Benjamin’s desperate gaze lands on me. “Ms. Garzolo, I’m sorry!”

Ras punches him in the gut. Once. Twice.

Benjamin bleats in pain. I cover my face with my hands. This is hard to watch, but for some reason, I’m not rushing to stop it. My heart is racing inside my chest.

Ras is standing up for me.

“Please, sir—”

I slide my fingers open and peer through the gap.

Ras heaves him up and slams him against the wall again. “You know, in the old days, we’d cut off your hand for that.”

Benjamin is bawling. “Not my hand. Please, not my hand!”

“No problem. I can be a reasonable guy.”

Ras knees him in the balls—hard—and throws him to the ground.

Benjamin screams in pain, curling up like a shrimp on the floor.

“If you ever as much as look at her again for a second too long, I won’t just cut off your hand. I’ll cut off every limb. I’ll make you into a stump. Do you understand me?” There’s no hint of humor left in Ras’s voice. It’s hard and cold, meant to leave no doubt about whether he’d deliver on that threat.

Ice spreads through my lungs. It’s like I’ve forgotten that Ras isn’t just any man, but the feared underboss of the Casalesi.

He lifts Benjamin’s face with the toe of his shoe. “Say it.”

“Yes! I understand.”

“Enough,” I squeeze out.

God, I almost feel bad for Benjamin. Almost. But not quite.

This isn’t like me. I don’t like violence. Especially not violence on my behalf. So why do I feel strangely thrilled at this display?

I lower myself to the crushed-velvet sofa. I can’t remember the last time someone stood up for me this way. Not because of what their disrespect meant to my family, but because of how it affected me.

That’s what Ras just did.

Ras crosses his arms and peers down his nose at Benjamin’s squirming, sobbing form.

“All right, wrap it up, Ben. We don’t have all day.” He prods him with his shoe again. “I need some things as well. Winter wardrobe. I trust your taste. I’m six-four, usually size extra-large. My shoe size is forty-seven. I think that’s size thirteen over here, but do me a favor and check.”

Benjamin manages to peel himself off the floor and mumbles without looking at either of us. “O-of course, sir.”

“Thanks. Appreciate it.”

My gaze snags on the shimmery yellow dress I picked out online for the party next week. It’s Rafaele’s aunt’s fiftieth birthday, and all of the Garzolos are invited. A dinner at a venue downtown followed by a party in one of Rafaele’s clubs, which means I need something that will work for both. When I checked the measurements, they were slightly too big.

I clear my throat. “Ras, he needs to mark the alterations for my dress.”

Ras glances at me, and I tip my head in the direction of the coffee table, where there’s a tray with measuring tape and a pincushion.

Benjamin halts, one foot already out the door and looking desperate to get out of here.

“Nah, I’ve got it,” Ras says, walking over to where I’m sitting and picking up the pincushion.

I cross my arms and press my fist to my nose as Benjamin bolts through the door.

Ras gives the cushion a toss and meets my gaze.

I sigh. “He’s going to need therapy.”

Ras shrugs. “Should have thought of that before he laid a finger on you.”

Warmth rushes over my skin. “I’m going to go change, and you’re going to use that time to Google how to use those pins. I’m not showing up to a party in a lopsided dress.”

He gives me an amused look. “Don’t worry, it can’t be that hard.”