Chapter 4 - Marcus Begs For Mercy Now
Beneath my hand, Marcus stopped struggling and began babbling a frantic stream of apologies.
“I’m sorry... I didn't know! Please, Commander, my arm is going to snap!” Marcus cried out pathetically.
I slowly released the joint lock, stepping back and smoothing out the front of my dress whites.
Marcus scrambled backward across the polished mahogany floor, clutching his bruised arm to his chest.
He looked less like a corporate titan and more like a terrified child caught in a storm.
“Get him out of my sight before I forget I’m wearing a uniform,” I instructed coldly.
Two of Arthur’s private security guards rushed forward, hauling Marcus up by his shoulders and dragging him toward the exit.
The remaining dinner guests avoided eye contact, staring intensely at their empty plates.
May you like
Nobody dared to utter a single word while the fallout of the evening unfolded around them.
The fifty-million-dollar deal Arthur had spent years chasing was dead in the water.
