I kicked out desperately.
My foot landed squarely in his face.
He recoiled with a grunt.
I scrambled up, my heart in my throat as I ran again.
I rounded the top of the stairs and slammed into something solid. It felt like a brick wall. Hands shot out, steadying me—and before I could scream, I was pulled into a chest that felt like home. The scent hit me before I even looked up.
I let out a shaky breath, leaning into the safe, warm embrace. My eyes traveled up to meet Tristian’s. He looked stunned, his gaze sweeping over me—my tear-streaked face, my wild hair, my bare, swollen feet. He didn’t say a word, but I felt his body go rigid as he processed my state. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his jacket as footsteps pounded on the stairs behind me. Tristian looked up over my shoulder. His eyes darkened, a predatory stillness settling over him as he locked eyes on Brandon.
Brandon was livid, his nose bloodied and his clothes disheveled. But as I leaned into Tristian, my heart rate finally beginning to slow, a realization washed over me.
I had stood up for myself. I had been strong enough. I had kneed him, thrown my shoes, run. I hadn’t been able to stop my father, but I had stoppedthis.
I felt a sob of pure, cathartic relief bubble up.
Tristian, meanwhile, vibrated with a quiet, lethal anger, his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might snap. He looked ready to tear Brandon apart, and for the first time, the thought didn’t scare me.
More footsteps approached from the VIP lounge. Darragh appeared, looking between me behind Tristian and the man on the stairs. Putting two and two together, the Irishman gave me a quick once-over before his gaze landed fixed on Brandon.
Brandon looked like a deer in headlights. The rage had drained from his face, replaced by utter fear.
Tristian’s grip on me tightened, his knuckles white.
Darragh just ran a hand over his face, looking more tired than surprised. He shook his head, his voice dripping with disdain.
“You fuckin’ idiot.”
Chapter thirty-six
Ingrid
The lounge smelled of tobacco and blood.
I sat paralyzed beside Tristian, my gaze fixed on his knuckles. Split open, weeping red. The last twenty minutes kept replaying: Brandon cornering me in the shadows, the sheer terror of it, the frantic chase up those stairs before I fell into Tristian’s arms. The sound of my own sobbing breaths as Tristian transformed into something primal, tackling Brandon to the floor while Darragh’s goons struggled to tear them apart.
Now, violence over, the atmosphere had settled into a suffocating silence. Tristian didn’t look at me; his eyes glared daggers at Brandon. Across from us, Brandon sat motionless, dark red and purple bruises spreading dark across his jaw.
Darragh was settled back in his leather armchair, cigar in hand, exhaling slow.
“What were you even thinking, eh?” he muttered, his voice quiet and dangerous.
Brandon said nothing at first. His eyes cut to me in a resentful glare that made my skin crawl. Tristian, feeling my tremor, clamped his hand down protectively over my knee. He was still vibrating with anger.
The silence continued to stretch. Brandon finally shifted his eyes toward Darragh before dropping his head.
“I wasn’t thinking.”
Darragh stood up with a slow, deliberate nod, taking another long pull from his cigar. “No… of course you weren’t.” He shook his head. Eyes narrowed into slits. “After all I did to fix you. Broke you in, trusted you… and look how you repay me. Think you’re a man now?”
Approaching Brandon, he handed his cigar to one of his men, before his hands dropped to his belt. Brandon’s eyes flashed with panic. Beside me, I felt Tristian freeze, his body going rigid as his breath hitched in his chest.
“Boss—please, I’m sorry. I—”
Darragh tsked. Hands worked the buckle free with practiced ease. “Apologies aren’t going to cut it now, lad. Actions like these have consequences. You know that. “
Two of his men moved as one, gripping Brandon before he could scramble out of his chair. He thrashed, shouting, but they forced him to the floor like they’d done it a hundred times before.
