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

at him. "Who the hell are you? Mind

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

his glass between two fingers, a cigarette burning idly at his

unsteady, half-leaning on him as she peeked over his shoulder. "He's my boyfriend now," she

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

tonight, you're going to learn the

it crashing into the man's gut-unfortunately, hitting him square in the groin. The man howled like a wounded animal. Behind

stepping forward with a punch that carried the weight of a day's worth of frustration. He landed blow after blow until the man staggered bleeding at the lip and dazed, his thoughts rattling like loose

all but giddy, eyes shining. She'd met plenty of