Noelle finally shifted away, her voice tight with nerves. "Mr. Williams, please don't..."
"What's the problem? We're getting married." Oliver, emboldened by alcohol, grabbed her arm and tried to pull her up. "Come on, you need someone to take care of you. I'll keep you comfortable for life."
"No, I'm not ready..." Noelle started struggling, but he was obviously stronger.
"Stop playing games." Oliver lost his patience and yanked her to her feet. "I've seen plenty like you. Who are you trying to impress?"
Noelle went white as a sheet. "Let go of me!"
I set down my glass and stood up.
"Let go of me!" Her cry drew stares from around the room.
Oliver got pissed and started dragging her toward the door. "Ungrateful bitch! You should be honored I'm interested!"
I crossed the room and grabbed Oliver by the collar.
"What the fuck—" His curse died in his throat the second he saw my face.
I smashed my fist into his nose. He went flying, crashed into the next table, sent dishes shattering everywhere.
The restaurant erupted in chaos.
I turned to Noelle. She was holding her bruised wrist, looking at me with complicated eyes.
"Come with me."
"I don't need your fake concern."
"Noelle, don't make me get rough in here. You know what that bastard was trying to do to you."
"Of course I know."
"Then are you really that desperate?" I grabbed her arm and pulled her close. "Will you spread your legs for just anyone?"
"Kholod Morozov, yes, I'm exactly that desperate. Now you should understand—I'd rather marry scum like him than you." She didn't even flinch, like she was admitting to every accusation I'd thrown at her.
"Do you know what you're saying?"
"I know exactly what I'm saying." She laughed coldly. "So a woman like me could never be worthy of the great Mr. Morozov. Please, just leave me alone."
She broke free and headed for the door.
I stood there, watching her walk away.
She'd forgotten me. She'd rejected me. She'd rather marry any random piece of trash.
This was betrayal.
All my so-called patience and careful planning became a joke in that moment.
Three days later.
"Boss," Dmitri reported. "Kieran O'Connell's been getting bold at the docks. The cops raided our Kensington warehouse last night, took a whole shipment. Evidence points to him—looks like he's trying to use the police to hit us, expand his territory."
A starving dog living off my scraps, and he has the balls to bare his teeth.
"Handle it." The words came out flat, emotionless. "Clean."
