Part 2: “No.”
“Then I’m not sure why you’re addressing my wife.”
Victor’s gaze moved to Lena.
“She isn’t your wife.”
The words landed softly.
The ballroom seemed to hear them anyway.
Derek’s smile froze.
“Excuse me?”
Victor looked back at him. “You never married her. You just call her that because it makes ownership sound respectable.”
The first ripple moved through the people nearby. A woman in emerald silk stopped mid-sip. A waiter slowed with a tray of champagne. Tom Brennan, who had been trying to disappear behind a pillar, stared openly.
Derek laughed.
It was a bad laugh.
“You’ve been doing research.”
“Enough.”
“Then you should know better than to interfere in my private life.”
Victor stepped closer.
“Take your hand off her.”
The music kept playing, but softer somehow, as if even the violinist was listening.
Derek’s grip tightened instead.
Lena made a sound. Small. Humiliating. Hurt.
Victor’s eyes changed.
Not much.
Just enough for Lena to know something had been decided.
“I said,” Victor repeated, “take your hand off her.”
Derek’s face flushed. “You don’t get to tell me what to do with my woman.”
Victor moved so fast Lena barely saw it. He did not grab Derek. He did not shove him. He simply stepped between them with the smooth precision of someone who had spent his life ending problems before they became messy.
Derek’s hand fell away.
Lena swayed.
Victor turned to her, blocking Derek from view.
“Lena,” he said quietly.
It was the first time he had used her name. Not baby. Not honey. Not sweetheart. Her name.
“I need you to listen carefully. I can get you out of this room tonight. But everyone has to understand that if he follows you, he is following me too. Do you understand?”
—————————————
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