Chapter 6
Vincent didn’t look at Ethan, nor did he acknowledge the gun aimed directly at his forehead.
His dark, terrifying gaze swept across the penthouse hallway until it landed on me lying on the floor.
He saw my swollen eight-month belly, my tear-stained face, and my arm bent at an unnatural, broken angle.
A terrifying aura of pure, unadulterated death settled over the luxurious apartment.
“My daughter,” Vincent spoke, his voice low, gravelly, and terrifyingly calm.
Ethan’s hand shook so violently that the barrel of his pistol rattled against his own knuckles.
“Who... who are you?” Ethan stammered, trying to sound authoritative. “This is private property!”
“I am the man who gave her life,” Vincent replied softly, stepping over the shattered glass.
“And you are the dead man who broke her bone.”
Two tactical guards moved like lightning, disarming Ethan before he could even register the movement.
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Ethan was slammed face-first onto the hardwood floor, his arm twisted painfully behind his shoulder blades.
Vanessa let out an ear-piercing scream, dropping her purse as two more guards pinned her against the kitchen counter.
