Punishment

[Leo’s POV]

My fist connects with the punching bag, sending tingles of pain rushing up my arm, but it isn’t enough to make the images of my songbird with that british bastard go away. Stepping back, I prepare for another attack and then move.

Again and again, I hit the bag in front of me, pretending that it is the bastard who dares even attempt to have ideas about my songbird, until my breathing is coming out in labored puffs and my knuckles are bloodied.

“I think you’ve shown that bag who is boss,” Jackson chuckles from his seat along the wall. “Don’t you think we should get down to business now?”

Business? I didn’t want to focus on fucking business. It was already five in the afternoon, and my songbird hadn’t contacted me. Where the fuck was she, and what was she doing? When my driver called me and told me she never showed up, I attempted to call, but it went straight to voicemail.

“FUCK!” I rumble, hitting the bag again.

“That’s enough,” Jackson sighs, getting up and making his way