Chapter 2 - The Iron Grip That Silenced the Luxury Boutique
Trevor tried to yank his arm back, expecting the stranger's hand to slip away from his wrist.
Instead, the grip remained locked in place, unmoving and immovable as a clamp forged from cold steel.
The expensive Rolex watch on Trevor’s wrist twisted awkwardly against the sudden pressure applied by the stranger.
Across the gleaming glass display cases, shoppers stopped mid-sentence, sensing the sudden drop in air pressure.
Chloe Whitmore blinked in absolute confusion, stepping forward on her designer heels to rescue her fiancé.
“Excuse me, whoever you think you are, let go of him right now or security will drag you out,” Chloe snapped.
The tall, dark-haired man holding Trevor’s wrist didn't even turn his head to look at the billionaire’s daughter.
His eyes remained fixed entirely on Trevor’s pale, sweat-beaded face, shining with a cold, terrifying intensity.
“You touched her,” the man said, his voice dropping into a register so low it vibrated through the floorboards.
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Trevor swallowed hard, trying to project an air of authority he no longer felt in the presence of true power.
***
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