Henry’s jaw flexed.“Do you know who I am?Iownthe agency she works for.That meeting, her schedule—every single thing she’s doing—is because of me.”
The guard’s tone stayed maddeningly even.“We understand, sir.But Ms.Gibbons requested privacy.Please return to your office.”
“Privacy?”Henry’s voice rose.“She works for me!She wouldn’t have clients if it weren’t for me.Now step aside before—”
The second guard shifted forward, cutting him off without raising his voice.“Sir, this meeting is important.Respect her request.”
A hot pulse of humiliation shot through Henry.She was making him look like an outsider.These strangers were speaking tohimlike he was the problem.He couldn’t let her get away with it.His hand twitched toward the inside of his jacket—a calculated move.He wasn’t going to use the gun, but they needed to see he was serious.
He didn’t get the chance.
A hand clamped around his wrist in a flash of movement, the grip like iron.Pain exploded up his arm as the guard twisted sharply, the gun clattering to the pavement.Before Henry could curse, his other arm was wrenched behind his back and he was driven down to the cold sidewalk, cheek grinding against the concrete.
“What the hell are you doing?!”he roared, his words muffled against the pavement.Humiliation burned hotter than the pain.
The second guard scooped up the weapon, popped the magazine, and locked both away with infuriating calm.“Police are on their way,” he murmured into a mic hidden at his collar.
“Police?”Henry spat.“You’re wasting their time!This is abusinessmatter!”
“Stay still, sir,” the first guard said, tightening the zip cuffs around his wrists.
Faces began appearing in the nearby windows, neighbors peering out with shameless curiosity.The heat in Henry’s chest boiled over.This was public.This was unforgettable.
And then she stepped outside.
Natalie.
She looked radiant, as always—effortlessly poised, her bright smile freezing when her gaze landed on him pinned to the pavement.The flicker of shock in her eyes softened into something far worse.
Pity.
The sight of it sliced straight through his pride.It was unbearable—like she was standing on a pedestal, looking down at him as if he were pathetic.In that instant, his resentment crystallized into something darker.He hated her—not just for being the reason he was reduced to this spectacle, but for her composure, her unshakable grace while he was face-down on concrete with strangers holding him like a criminal.
His breath came hard and fast, the fight bleeding out of his limbs until he went still.Not because he’d accepted defeat—never—but because conserving energy now meant striking back later.
In the distance, sirens wailed, growing louder with every passing second.Each note was another twist of the knife.This scene—her standing there, the guards looming, the neighbors watching—would be remembered.Whispers would spread.His name would be attached to this humiliation like a brand.
But not forever.
As the guards held their positions, impassive and unyielding, Henry’s mind churned.There was always a way to turn the tables.Always a way to make someone regret underestimating him.Natalie might think she’d claimed some sort of victory today, but she’d only started a war.
This wasn’t over.Not by a long shot.
Chapter 35
Natalie’s phone buzzed insistently in her bag as she stepped out of her client’s house, but the sound was drowned out by the scene unfolding on the sidewalk.Her guards, Ben and John, moved with crisp, practiced precision—Ben wrenching something from Henry’s hand, John driving him to the pavement with a controlled, punishing grip.
The filthy concrete scraped across Henry’s tailored suit as he thrashed, spitting curses.The sight jolted her forward, her pulse spiking.
“Stop it—what are you doing?!”Her voice cut through the air, but neither guard so much as glanced her way.
Her steps faltered when she caught sight of what Ben carried—Henry’s pistol, pinched between two fingers as though it were something distasteful.He turned, walking it toward the SUV with deliberate care.Her gaze swung back to John, who was snapping plastic cuffs tight around Henry’s wrists.
The weapon made her stomach drop.This wasn’t a misunderstanding.Henry had come armed.
“What’s going on?”she demanded, fighting to keep her tone even as icy dread crept up her spine.The wail of sirens swelled in the distance, the edges of her vision narrowing as her mind pieced together what she’d refused to see before.
The crash.The figure walking away.That stiff, deliberate gait.
