Chapter 5
The bodyguard’s hand emerged from his suit jacket, gripping the cold steel of a suppressed pistol. The sudden threat of violence in the brightly lit ballroom sent the elite guests scattering, screaming and diving behind the champagne tables for cover. The delicate floral displays were knocked to the floor, white petals raining down over the polished wood.
But Emrys Valehurst was not a man who commanded an empire by standing still.
At Coralie’s sharp warning, Emrys moved with preternatural speed. He closed the distance between himself and the armed bodyguard in a single, massive stride. Before the man could fully raise the weapon, Emrys brought his uninjured left hand down in a brutal, sweeping strike, knocking the gun forcefully out of the man’s grip. The weapon skittered across the old wooden flooring, coming to a halt near the edge of the open floor panel.
The white bodyguard lunged forward to defend his partner, but Emrys stepped inside his guard. With terrifying precision, Emrys delivered a devastating blow to the man’s jaw, utilizing the heavy gold family signet ring on his right hand despite the agonizing pain of his bruised knuckles. The guard crumpled to the floor instantly, unconscious before he hit the wood.
The Black bodyguard recovered quickly, throwing a heavy punch toward Emrys’s head. Emrys ducked smoothly, his swept-back hair barely moving, and drove his knee brutally into the man’s ribs. As the guard doubled over, Emrys grabbed him by the lapels of his dark suit and threw him effortlessly across the nearest champagne table. Glass shattered explosively, a cascade of expensive liquor and crystal raining down around the groaning man.
The entire violent exchange lasted less than five seconds.
Emrys stood amidst the wreckage, his tailored dark suit immaculate, his chest heaving slightly. He looked down at the two incapacitated bodyguards, then slowly turned his terrifying gaze back to Dashiell.
Dashiell was frozen in absolute terror, his back pressed hard against a marble pillar. The illusion of his control was completely shattered. He was entirely alone.
Emrys walked slowly toward him, his leather shoes crunching softly on the broken crystal.
“Did you truly believe these rented thugs could protect you from me, Dashiell?” Emrys asked, his deep voice carrying an eerie, measured calm that was far more terrifying than a shout.
“Emrys, please,” Dashiell begged, his voice cracking as he slid down the pillar to his knees. “I am your family. I am your cousin. You can't do this to me in front of the syndicate.”
“Did you consider our bloodline when you locked my future wife in the dark to starve?” Emrys asked, stopping just inches from the kneeling man.
Coralie stepped out from the shadows of the remaining floral displays. She walked carefully over the broken glass, her white apron unblemished. She stopped right behind Emrys, her gentle presence an anchor in the chaotic room.
May you like
Emrys reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and withdrew a heavy, polished silver lighter. He flicked it open, the flame catching the bright cinematic lighting of the ballroom, and stared down at the man who had betrayed him.
“Are you prepared to face the consequences of your ambition, Dashiell, or are you going to beg for a mercy you have never shown?” Emrys asked quietly.
