Chapter 10 - The Ambush in the Dark
The gala ended at midnight, but the storm over Manhattan had only worsened.
While Gabriel was detained in a private VIP antechamber by three European banking executives, I excused myself to use the restroom near the museum’s lower wing, away from the glittering crowd. Claire, ever watchful, waited at the end of the grand corridor.
The moment I stepped out of the marbled restroom into the dimly lit hallway lined with ancient Roman busts, a hand clamped hard around my wrist, yanking me into the shadows of a recessed archway.
My instincts kicked in instantly. I raised my evening clutch to strike, but a frantic, desperate voice hissed in my ear:
"Ava! Stop! It’s me!"
Damian.
He had ditched his tuxedo jacket. His hair was disheveled, his bowtie undone, and his eyes bloodshot with a manic mixture of terror and desperation. He reeked of expensive bourbon.
"Let go of me, Damian," I said, my voice dead and cold as ice. "Before I scream and have Gabriel’s security turn you into a grease spot on Fifth Avenue."
Instead of releasing me, his grip tightened, his fingers digging into my wrist with painful desperation.
"You have to listen to me!" he pleaded, stepping closer, his breath hot against my face. "You don't understand what you’re doing, Ava! You think Gabriel Thorne cares about you? You think this is real? He is using you to destroy the Langford merger! The moment the Thorne board votes on his birthday next month, he will discard you like trash!"
"And how is that any different from what you did?" I countered, yanking my wrist violently from his grip. "You used my savings, my credit, my youth, and my love to buy your way into law school, Damian. And then you dumped me by text at three in the morning so you could sleep on a yacht."
Damian flinched, guilt flashing across his eyes before being swallowed by his desperate ego.
"I made a mistake, okay?" he whispered, reaching out to touch my face. "I had to do it, Ava! In this city, talent isn't enough! You need connections! I did it for us—so I could build a real empire!"
"There was never an 'us,'" I said, stepping back, looking at him with utter disgust. "There was only you, and the girl stupid enough to keep you alive."
"Ava, please," he begged, dropping his voice into the same manipulative, wheedling tone he used to use when he needed rent money. "Victoria’s father is going to ruin me. If Gabriel pulls his funding, the firm will fire me by morning. You have to tell Gabriel it was a joke. Tell him you forgive me. Tell him to back off!"
He grabbed my shoulders, shaking me slightly. "I know you still love me. You can’t erase four years in two days! Tell him to leave the Langfords alone, and... and I’ll leave Victoria. I’ll make you my mistress. I’ll buy you an apartment. Just stop him!"
The audacity was so breathtaking I couldn't even summon anger. Only pure, unadulterated contempt.
"You really are pathetic," I whispered.
Before Damian could speak, a hand clad in midnight-blue wool descended onto Damian’s shoulder like an iron vise.
The sound of bones shifting under terrifying pressure echoed in the quiet corridor.
Damian let out a strangled, breathless shriek of agony as he was violently ripped off me and slammed backward against the marble wall, rattling the Roman busts in their niches.
Gabriel stood there.
He didn't look angry. That was the most terrifying part. His expression was completely blank, his eyes like two black voids of lethal intent. He didn't let go of Damian’s shoulder; instead, his fingers sank deeper, driving Damian down until the younger man was whimpering on his knees against the cold stone floor.
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"I warned you once tonight, Damian," Gabriel said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. "I told you what would happen if you touched her again."
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