Chapter 4
The tension in the bright, luminous air of the luxury lounge was so thick it felt tangible. The fifty guests held their collective breath, watching the political alliance of the Langridge syndicate violently clash in real time.
Romilly Hale did not hesitate. Moving with stunning, practiced precision that entirely belied her delicate appearance, she gripped Caspian’s reaching wrist tightly with her left hand and grabbed the fabric of his expensive formal jacket near his shoulder with her right.
In ONE forceful, continuous motion, she pivoted her slender hips directly across his path, dropping her center of gravity. Using Caspian’s own aggressive momentum against him, Romilly threw the much larger man cleanly over her hip.
The execution was flawless, a brutal display of martial leverage that no one in the room had anticipated.
Caspian was launched completely off his feet, his luxury wristwatch catching the cinematic lighting as he flew backward through the air. He let out a sharp, breathless gasp of pure shock, unable to stop his trajectory.
He sailed toward the low glass drinks table situated just behind him.
The impact was devastating. Caspian’s back slammed squarely onto the thick glass tabletop. The force of the throw was too much for the elegant furniture to withstand. The heavy glass shattered explosively beneath his weight with a deafening crash. The decorative metal legs of the table buckled outward, twisting violently under the sudden, immense pressure.
Crystal champagne flutes burst against the cream marble floor that peeked through the edges of the carpet, sending shards of expensive glass flying in every direction. Caspian crashed heavily onto the floor, completely destroying the drinks station. He lay groaning in the wreckage, surrounded by a chaotic spray of glass fragments, crushed ice from the bucket, and dented silver coasters.
The two towering bodyguards, caught completely off guard by the sudden violence from the beautiful housemaid, instinctively recoiled from the falling man and the splashing liquid. They stared at Romilly, momentarily paralyzed by the sheer impossibility of what had just occurred.
A sudden, terrifying shift in the atmosphere stopped everyone dead in their tracks.
The nearby guests, who had been quietly shifting on their feet in anticipation of Evander's retaliation, stopped moving entirely. The silence that fell over the lounge was absolute, heavy, and apocalyptic. No one spoke. The entire gathering held its breath, staring at the housemaid who had just physically assaulted the nightclub manager.
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Romilly stood frozen for a microscopic second, her chest heaving, her hands still hovering in the air where she had released his jacket. The reality of what she had just done crashed down upon her. She had just assaulted a senior member of the syndicate in front of fifty witnesses.
But as she looked at Evander, standing tall and freed from his cousin's vicious grip, she knew she would do it again without hesitation. The momentary shock in Evander’s dark eyes was rapidly replaced by something else entirely—a deep, burning realization of the extraordinary lengths she would go to in order to protect him.
