Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 27

Chapter 27 Standing Up To Corporate Thugs

My shoes slapped the wet pavement. I ignored the ache in my empty stomach and broke into a run.

The two suited men crowded the older gentleman against the brick wall of the Grand Sterling Hotel. The larger man drew his arm back. He formed a thick, heavy fist. The old man did not cower. He clutched his leather briefcase against his chest. He kept his chin

high, his eyes burning with unbroken pride.

I reached my hand into my coat pocket. My fingers wrapped around the cheap plastic casing of my prepaid phone I pulled the

device out and raised it, pointing the dark screen at the men.

“Step away from him.”

My voice cut through the noise of the traffic and the pelting rain. It did not shake.

The two men turned their heads. They saw a woman standing ten feet away in a wet, frayed sweater and scuffed canvas shoes. The larger man lowered his fist. A sneer twisted his mouth. He dismissed me in an instant. To him, I was a stray dog barking at traffic.

“Keep walking, sweetheart, the man warned. “This is private business.”

“Assault in broad daylight constitutes a crime,” I countered. I kept my phone raised. “The hotel security camera above the side door possesses a clear view of your faces. My camera holds the audio. Let him go.”

The second man frowned. He tilted his head back and checked the brick wall above the entrance. He spotted the black glass dome of the security camera pointing in our direction. He reached out and tapped his partner’s broad shoulder.

“Leave it,” the second man muttered. “The board gave us a deadline. We will handle him later. We do not need police involvement.”

The larger man grunted. He stepped close to the old man, invading his space. He pointed a thick finger at the leather briefcase.

“You cannot hide those distribution records forever, Valdez,” the man threatened. The shareholders want you gone. We will find

you.”

The two men backed away. They adjusted their expensive suit jackets and merged into the crowd moving down the busy commercial avenue. They vanished into the sea of umbrellas.

I lowered my arms. My pulse hammered against my ribs. I turned my attention to the older gentleman. He leaned his weight against the damp brick wall. He pulled ragged breaths into his lungs. His knuckles remained white around the brass handle of his briefcase.

“Are you hurt?” I asked. I closed the distance between us.

The man shook his head. He straightened his spine. He brushed a speck of invisible dirt from his tweed lapel. He took a moment to compose his breathing. Then, he looked at me.

People passed me on the street every day without seeing me. Receptionists saw a resume. Christopher Winslow saw a scandal.

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Chapter 27 Standing Up To Corporate Thugs

Tristan saw a liability.

This man saw me.

His dark eyes possessed an intense, piercing intelligence. He took in my wet hair, my posture, and the angry red scar cutting across my left cheekbone. He did not offer pity. He analyzed the pieces. He dismantled my appearance the way a watchmaker dismantles a

broken clock to find the ruined gears.

“You bluffed them,” he stated. His voice was gravel rough. It carried unquestionable authority. “That phone is a prepaid model. the

camera lens is cracked. It cannot record video.

I slipped the plastic phone back into my pocket. “It worked.”

“A risk.” He adjusted his grip on the briefcase. “They were corporate muscle. Most people turn their heads when men in suits/throw

their weight around on the street.”

“I know men in suits,” I replied.

The memory of Mateo Castillo standing in my apartment surfaced. The memory of Tristan watching Celeste strike my face burned in my mind. I pushed the memories down. I locked them in a dark box.

“Men in suits rely on silence, I continued. “I prefer noise.”

A ghost of a smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Noise makes a fine weapon. What is your name?”

“Minerva.”

“I am Eduardo,” he said. He extended a wrinkled, weathered hand.

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