Aiden Knight's POV
I watch Chloe's hand shake as she reaches for that glass. The fear in her eyes ignites something cold and deadly in my chest. This pathetic excuse for a man thinks he can humiliate her? Force her into submission in front of all these people?
He has no idea who he's dealing with.
"Who do you think you are, to dare force her to drink?!" The words leave my mouth with ice-cold fury.
Leo Graves turns toward me, his face twisting with surprise and disdain. The entire room seems to hold its breath. I can feel dozens of eyes boring into me, but I don't care. All I see is this arrogant piece of trash who thinks he can terrorize Chloe.
"Excuse me?" Leo's voice drips with condescension. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?"
I step forward, placing myself between him and Chloe. "Someone who doesn't like watching scum intimidate women."
Gasps echo through the crowd. Several people actually step back, as if proximity to me might contaminate them with whatever madness makes a nobody challenge Leo Graves.
Leo's face flushes red. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"Leo Graves." I keep my voice perfectly level. "Son of Oscar Graves. Member of the city council. Owner of Graves Construction." I pause, letting a slight smile touch my lips. "And a pathetic coward who gets his kicks humiliating women because no real man would give him the time of day."
The silence that follows is deafening. Someone in the crowd actually whimpers. Leo's mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air.
"You..." He finally finds his voice, shaking with rage. "You just signed your own death warrant, you worthless piece of trash!"
"Aiden, please," Chloe whispers behind me. "Just leave. He's too powerful. His family will destroy you."
I don't turn around. My eyes stay locked on Leo's flushed face. "The only thing getting destroyed tonight is his inflated ego."
Leo takes a step closer, his hands clenched into fists. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you? What my family is going to do to you? We'll ruin your life. Drive you out of Everbrook City. Make sure you never find work anywhere in this province."
"Are you finished?" I ask calmly.
His eyes bulge. "Finished? I haven't even started! Boys!"
Three men in expensive suits emerge from the crowd. Leo's personal bodyguards, built like brick walls and moving with the confidence of men who've never met an opponent they couldn't handle.
"Break his legs," Leo snarls. "Then throw him in the lake."
The first bodyguard reaches into his jacket. The second cracks his knuckles. The third just smiles like he's looking forward to this.
"Aiden, run!" Chloe grabs my arm. "Please, just run!"
I gently remove her hand from my sleeve. "Stay back."
The crowd presses against the walls, giving us space like we're about to stage a performance. Which, in a way, we are. These people came here expecting business networking. Instead they're about to witness something that will haunt their nightmares.
The first bodyguard lunges forward, pulling a telescoping baton from his jacket. He swings it toward my head with practiced efficiency.
I catch his wrist mid-swing.
For a moment, we're frozen in tableau. Him straining to complete his attack, me holding his arm steady like it's made of stone. His face contorts with effort and confusion.
Then I squeeze.
The sound of breaking bones echoes through the silent ballroom like gunshots. The bodyguard screams, a high, piercing wail that makes several women in the crowd cover their ears. The baton clatters to the floor.
I release his wrist and he stumbles backward, cradling his mangled arm against his chest. His wrist bends at an impossible angle, white bone visible through torn skin.
The second bodyguard hesitates for exactly one second. Then training kicks in and he charges forward, aiming a haymaker at my jaw.
I don't even move my feet.
My hand shoots out, fingers extended, and strikes him in the solar plexus. The impact sends him flying backward through the air like he's been hit by a cannonball. He crashes into the buffet table, sending crystal dishes and expensive canapés exploding across the floor.
He doesn't get up.
The third bodyguard takes one look at his fallen comrades and reaches for something inside his jacket. A gun, most likely.
He never gets the chance to draw it.
I cross the distance between us in a single step and grab him by the throat. His feet leave the ground as I lift him into the air, his expensive shoes dangling uselessly.
"Put. Him. Down." Leo's voice has lost all its arrogance. Now it's high-pitched with terror.
I look at the bodyguard in my grasp. His face is turning purple, his hands clawing desperately at my fingers. With casual indifference, I toss him aside like a bag of garbage. He hits the wall with a wet thud and slides to the floor, unconscious.
The entire ballroom is silent except for the first bodyguard's whimpering and the sound of my footsteps on marble as I turn back toward Leo.
His face has gone completely white. Sweat beads on his forehead despite the air conditioning. His hands shake as he holds them up in a gesture that might be surrender or might be a futile attempt to ward me off.
"Please," he whispers. "I... I didn't mean..."
I close the distance between us in two steps. He tries to back away but stumbles over his own feet, nearly falling. The crowd pressed against the walls watches in horrified fascination.
"You didn't mean what?" I ask conversationally.
"I didn't mean to... to offend you." His voice cracks. "I was just having some fun with Chloe. We're old friends. Just a misunderstanding."
"A misunderstanding." I nod thoughtfully. "Like when your father insulted my family five years ago. Was that a misunderstanding too?"
Leo's eyes widen with confusion and terror. He has no idea what I'm talking about, but he can tell his life hangs in the balance.
"I... I don't know what you mean..."
My hand moves faster than his eyes can track. The slap echoes through the ballroom like a thunderclap, spinning Leo completely around before he crashes to the floor. Blood streams from his nose and split lip.
Screams erupt from the crowd. Several women faint. Men who probably outweigh me by fifty pounds edge toward the exits, their faces pale with shock.
Leo rolls onto his back, staring up at me with the glazed eyes of a man who's just discovered that everything he thought he knew about the world was wrong.
"Please," he gasps through bloody lips. "Don't kill me. I'll do anything."
I reach down and grab him by his expensive silk tie, hauling him to his feet. He sways unsteadily, his legs barely supporting his weight.
"Anything?" I ask.
He nods frantically, blood spattering from his ruined nose.
I pull his phone from his jacket pocket and hold it out to him. "Call your father."
Leo stares at the phone like it's a live grenade. "What?"
"Call Oscar Graves. Tell him to come here. Tell him to get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness." My voice drops to a whisper that somehow carries to every corner of the silent room. "And maybe, just maybe, I'll let you live."
The phone slips from Leo's nerveless fingers and clatters to the floor. The sound might as well be a gunshot in the deathly quiet ballroom.
"You... you want me to tell my father..." His voice breaks. "To kneel?"
I smile, and from the way he flinches, it must be a terrible thing to see.
"That's exactly what I want you to tell him."