Chapter 2
The sheer, explosive volume of Corbin's voice silenced the entire family gathering instantly. The string quartet in the corner faltered and stopped playing. Every head turned to watch the massive, deeply masculine figure charge across the expensive Persian rug.
Tabitha didn't even have time to lower her arm. Corbin closed the distance with terrifying speed, his polished leather shoes making no sound against the thick wool of the rug. He didn't slow down as he reached her.
With a brutal, forceful motion, Corbin snatched the inhaler from his sister’s raised hand, his fingers completely enveloping the small plastic device. He didn't pause. In the exact same fluid movement, Corbin brought his other hand across and forcefully slapped Tabitha directly across her fair, rosy face.
The sharp, resounding crack echoed through the silent living room like a gunshot.
The kinetic force of the strike knocked Tabitha sideways, her high heels stumbling as she gasped in sheer shock. Her heavy diamond earrings swung wildly as she reached a manicured hand up to hold her stinging cheek, a bright red mark rapidly blooming across her skin.
Corbin completely ignored her. He instantly dropped to his knees on the floor beside his daughter.
Juniper was gasping weakly, her tiny chest heaving as she fought a losing battle for oxygen. Corbin wrapped his strong, protective arms around her, holding her securely against his broad chest.
"I've got you, June bug. Daddy's got you," Corbin murmured urgently, his hands moving with practiced, desperate precision. He uncapped the inhaler, placed it gently between her pale lips, and pressed down. "Breathe deep. In and out. That's it."
The mist deployed, and Juniper instinctively inhaled, pulling the life-saving medication deep into her constricted lungs. She coughed violently, her small hands gripping the fabric of Corbin's fitted shirt like a lifeline.
"Again, baby. One more time," Corbin instructed smoothly, his terrifying fury momentarily eclipsed by the singular focus of saving his child. He administered a second dose.
Above them, the chaotic silence of the room was finally broken.
"You hit me!" Tabitha shrieked, her voice shrill with indignation as she recovered her balance. She held her cheek, her face contorted with anger rather than shame. She looked down at the father and daughter, showing absolutely no remorse for nearly suffocating a four-year-old child.
"She better get used to going without it," Tabitha added, her tone dismissive and unimaginably cruel. "She is a Voss. We do not tolerate genetic weakness in this family. If she can't breathe on her own, perhaps she doesn't belong here."
Corbin slowly lifted his head, his eyes burning with an unholy, terrifying fire. The men in the room physically recoiled from the lethal aura radiating from him.
Before Corbin could unleash the violence building in his chest, an older man stepped forward from the crowd. Orson Voss, the sixty-eight-year-old patriarch of the family, wore a crisp button-down shirt, tailored trousers, and polished shoes. His fair skin was lined with age and authority.
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"Tabitha, enough," Orson said sharply, though his tone carried more annoyance than actual condemnation of her actions. "And Corbin, control your temper. Striking your sister in my house is entirely unacceptable."
"Unacceptable?" Corbin growled, rising slowly to his feet, keeping Juniper securely tucked against his side. "She just tried to murder my daughter in front of fifty people."
