Alex Delgado stood in the threshold, chest heaving, eyes locked on Nathan.
"Fine! Just fine!" He stepped into the room. "I told you Yolanda was pregnant. I expected you to cry, make a scene, maybe threaten to hang yourself. Instead, you ran off in a fit of pique."
He marched closer. "You kept insisting on divorce. Yolanda scolded me, said I was handling you wrong, that I should be sincere and invite you back."
His face twisted into a sneer. "So I came to apologize. And what do I find? You, shacking up with him? You dare cuckold me?"
He lunged at Nathan, fist raised.
The blow never landed.
Nathan caught his wrist mid-air. His grip was iron, his expression a terrifying calm.
"What do you think you're doing?" Nathan's voice was low, dangerous. "You dare raise your hand to me?"
Delgado struggled. Nathan didn't budge.
"A man who can't control his lower half, let alone his temper—and you call yourself Chief of Thoracic Surgery?" Nathan scoffed. "You're a disgrace to the white coat."
"You fool around, impregnate another woman, then have the audacity to demand your wife serve your mistress?"