The rhythmic thud of Cornelius's cane echoed in the sudden silence of the room. The old man walked slowly toward the center of the ballroom, his face carved from stone.
Bennet immediately straightened up, puffing out his chest now that his grandfather was stepping in.
Rudy Mosley, desperate to prove his loyalty to the Branch family, pushed past his mother. His face was purple with rage.
"You ungrateful whore!" Rudy screamed at Darla, spit flying from his lips. "You ruined this family!"
Rudy lunged. He raised his heavy hand, aiming a vicious slap right at Darla's face.
Darla squeezed her eyes shut and bit down hard on her lower lip, bracing for the impact.
The slap never came.
Instead, a sickening crack of bone and cartilage echoed through the air.
Darla opened her eyes. Anson's massive hand was wrapped around Rudy's wrist like a steel vise. The muscles in Anson's forearm bulged against the fabric of his suit. His eyes were completely black, devoid of any human warmth.
With a brutal, effortless twist, Anson forced Rudy's arm backward.
Rudy let out a high-pitched, agonizing scream. His knees buckled instantly, and he crashed to the floor, kneeling at Anson and Darla's feet, sobbing in pain.
Agnes shrieked. She threw her hands up, ready to claw at Anson's face.
Anson didn't move. He just slowly turned his head and looked at Agnes. The look in his eyes was so violently cold, so utterly empty of mercy, that Agnes froze mid-step. Her breath hitched, and she began to tremble.
Anson released Rudy's wrist, letting the man collapse onto the carpet.
Anson reached into his pocket, pulled out a pristine white handkerchief, and slowly wiped his fingers. He looked disgusted, as if he had just touched raw sewage.
Cornelius stopped three feet away. He stared at Anson, his ancient eyes calculating.
"Who are you?" Cornelius demanded, his voice low. "You are no guard."
Anson met the old man's gaze. A humorless smile touched the corner of his mouth.
"I am exactly what I said I am," Anson replied smoothly. "Darla's fiancé."
Cornelius's heart gave a strange, uneasy thump. He had built an empire, but the young man standing in front of him felt like a loaded gun pointed directly at his head. Cornelius knew when to cut his losses.
He turned his back on Anson. "Branch family. We are leaving. Now."
Bennet opened his mouth to protest, but one look from his grandfather shut him up. He turned and practically ran toward the exit.
The Branch family filed out. The remaining guests, sensing the danger in the air, quickly grabbed their coats and scattered. Within minutes, the grand ballroom was nearly empty.
Agnes stood over Rudy, glaring at Darla with pure hatred. "You will pay for this, Darla. You have nothing now."
Darla looked at the woman who had made her life a living hell. Her chest felt incredibly light.
"I have exactly what I want," Darla said quietly. "Nothing to do with you."
She turned to Anson. Her adrenaline was crashing, leaving her exhausted. "Let's go."
Anson didn't say a word. He reached out and wrapped his warm, large hand around her freezing fingers.
He led her through the empty ballroom, pushed open the heavy glass doors, and walked her out into the cool Manhattan night.
