The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

The man oozed sleaze from every inch-greasy hair, flashy floral shirt, and a cocky, self-important smirk that he clearly thought made him irresistible. Yet when he looked at the woman, his eyes were sharp and mean.

"That money was your choice to spend on me. Why should I pay you back? What, you think you can get a free ride at your age?"

The woman was no pushover herself, but before she could retort, the man grabbed her and pulled her roughly against him, forcing a kiss. She swung her purse, landing a solid blow on the back of his head. "Let go of me! Get away! Don't touch me!"

But the man was stronger. No matter how hard she fought, he kept her pinned, his grip unyielding.

"Stupid bitch, trying to play games with me? Do you really think I won't take you right here in front of everyone? You act all high and mighty, talking about breaking up like you're some sort of saint. You only get to leave when I'm done with you—”

The shouting reached a fever pitch when suddenly, Connor's glass flew through the air, shattering against the wall just inches from the man's head. The guy startled, loosening his hold, and the woman immediately slipped free, edging away in search of an escape.

Take your drama outside," Connor drawled, his voice

man glared at him. "Who the hell are you? Mind your own

unamused. "Didn't your mother ever teach you how to speak to

two fingers, a cigarette burning idly at his

close. He could smell the alcohol on her; she was unsteady, half-leaning on him as she peeked over his shoulder. "He's my boyfriend now," she announced loudly. The man smashed his own glass, snarling at Connor. "Do you even

chuckle, his face devoid of warmth. "I don't give a

guess tonight,

man's gut-unfortunately, hitting him square in

carried the weight of a day's worth of frustration. He landed blow after blow until the man staggered bleeding at the lip

Connor was all but giddy, eyes shining.