The onlookers exchanged uneasy glances.
Mathew really had gone too far this time.
His face darkened with rage as he glared at Alicia. “And who the hell do you think you are? Weren’t you Vincent Lawson’s little kept woman? Who gave you the right to talk to me like that?”
Tyrone’s expression was icy as he stepped forward and delivered a swift kick, sending the man sprawling across the marble floor. “If you can’t understand when I’m being civil, I’m not above using my fists to make my point.”
The man landed hard and stared up at Tyrone, pain and humiliation twisting his features. Red-faced, seething, he scrambled to his knees. “Tyrone! You’re nothing but a stray dog, thrown out by the Lynch family. How dare you lay a hand on me? I could end you right now—crush you like an insect!”
Tyrone just laughed coldly. The arrogance was almost impressive.
“Mr. Mathew, don’t you think you’ve crossed a line?” someone interjected from the crowd, stepping in to defuse the tension. “You’re making quite a scene. If this is how you handle yourself, it hardly inspires confidence in potential partners.”
Alicia was a little surprised. She hadn’t expected the voice of reason to be Vincent.
Vincent’s expression was grave, his voice low and steady. “And for the record, Alicia was never my mistress. If I hear you insult her again, Lawson & Co. will be ending all negotiations with your firm.”
Mathew’s bravado melted away in an instant. Eyes wide, he scrambled to his feet and stammered an apology. “Mr. Lawson—I’m so sorry. I spoke out of turn. Please forgive me.”
To punctuate the point, he slapped himself across the face, then slunk away, humiliated.
Everyone had heard the rumors about bad blood between Vincent and Tyrone over a woman. No one would have guessed Vincent would step in to defend him tonight.
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