74

Lucien

"You must have guts to think you can hit my wife right in my presence. And at my party, no less."

My voice cut through the tense silence, sharp and unforgiving.

I took measured steps toward Moore, my gaze locking onto hers. Shock flickered in her eyes—she hadn’t expected me to intervene. But of course, she had taken full advantage of the opportunity I’d given her. She was making a spectacle, distracting everyone.

Good.

I met her eyes briefly before shifting my focus back to Grey. "What gave you that kind of nerve?"

I had invited Moore’s enemies here to give her a chance at revenge. I had expected her to lash out—verbally, maybe humiliate them, twist the knife where it hurt most. But I hadn’t expected her to take it this far.

She had gone beyond words.

Maybe I was to blame for that. I had been brutal with her body, pushing her to her limits, breaking her down piece by piece. And now, she was channeling that same energy, mirroring the ruthlessness she had learned from me.

For a brief moment, the corner of my lips twitched in amusement. I had underestimated her.

I would not have intervened, but the second his hands raised up at her before Lillard interference, I felt my body tensed in anger.

For all it's worth, those hands of his will be useless from tonight.

Only I have the right to touch her. Only I have that claim on Moore. So anyone who touches her will pay darely for it.

"You just saw her hit Nora," Grey said, forcing confidence into his voice, though he still wouldn’t meet my eyes. His anger flickered toward Moore instead. "I’m not just going to stand here and do nothing."

Lillard, still gripping Grey’s wrist, released him with enough force to make him stumble.

Grey winced, shooting daggers at Lillard before turning that same glare on Moore, still very much avoiding my gaze.

"Doesn't she deserve it?" he spat, his lips curling into a mocking smirk.

"She hit me first," Moore said, her hands clenched in a fist.

"You lying bitch!" Nora screeched, scrambling to her feet. The slight swell of her belly was visible now, a pathetic attempt to wield sympathy. "When did I ever touch you? You did this!"

I scoffed. How desperate could they be? Not only had they stolen everything that once belonged to Moore, but now they were raising a child in the midst of their lies.

Maybe Greg was right, I shouldn't destroy all that they had taken from her, I'll take them back and hand it over to Moore.

But nope. I won't do that either.

Moore let out a dry laugh. "You didn’t hit me? Are you kidding right now?"

"She didn’t," Grey cut in. Then, in a pitiful attempt at persuasion, he turned to me. "Mr. Giordano, you have to believe us."

I raised an eyebrow, my expression impassive. "Why should I believe you?"

I know very much that not him or his mistress touched Moore, but if that was her tactics, so be it.

Grey tensed, frustration evident in the stiff line of his jaw, though he masked it quickly. "I'm sorry if this caused any commotion. We only wanted to say hi, given our past history with her—"

"History?" Moore’s voice cut through his pathetic excuse, her anger simmering. She took a step forward, forcing Grey and Nora to retreat instinctively. "A history that includes sending me to jail? Sleeping with my best friend while I rotted away? Getting her pregnant while still married to me?" Her lips curled in disgust. "Tell me, Grey, what kind of history would you call that?"

Moore was losing herself. I could see it—the fury in her eyes, the tremble in her fingers. She had reached that point. The point of no return.

Nora, always one to dig her own grave, scoffed. "How dare you say that? You brought this on yourself. You were never good enough, and you know it." Her voice dripped with venom. Then, with a smirk, she glanced at me. "And I bet that’s why Mr. Giordano didn’t even deem you worthy of a proper marriage. Don’t flatter yourself, Moore. He’s not standing up for you—he’s doing it for the public eye."

Silence.

For the first time, Moore faltered.

Her fingers clenched around her purse, her breathing uneven.

"Nora!" Grey hissed, his eyes wide with warning. He knew. He knew she had just destroyed whatever slim chance they had of leaving unscathed.

Pathetic.

Grey turned to me, scrambling for damage control. "I’m very sorry, Mr. Giordano. She’s pregnant, and you know how—"

"No."

My voice was calm. Cold.

"This is your fault now, Grey."

I gave a small nod to Lillard.

"Take them both out. And you know what to do."

Immediately, security closed in, grabbing Grey and Nora.

"You have no right to treat us like this!" Nora screeched, thrashing as they pulled her away. Grey tried to calm her, but it was useless. They were both pushed out of the venue, their protests growing faint as the doors shut behind them.

Silence settled over the room before the murmurs resumed. The event refocused on Greg, who was already moving forward with the product unveiling.

"Thank you," Moore muttered under her breath.

I barely glanced at her. My lips twitched—not in amusement, but in something unreadable.

"Save it for later."

She shifted uncomfortably, gripping her purse tighter.

"By then you will know if that appreciation was necessary."

She darted her eyes away from me, her blue eyes flickered toward the exit, where Grey and Nora had just been dragged out.

She wanted revenge. She wanted blood. But she had already humiliated Nora. Now it was my turn to deal with Grey.

I signaled to Lillard, my voice low. "No one goes near her."

I don't want Arthur near, not even any steps closer to her.

Lillard gave a sharp nod. "Yes, sir."

Without another word, I turned away and strode toward the stage where Greg had already called me up. Applause erupted as I stepped onto the podium, but my mind was elsewhere.

I spotted Arthur in the crowd, watching me with his usual amusement. He raised a glass in a mock toast, smirking. My gaze slid past him to Moore. She was watching me too.

Greg clapped me on the back, grinning. "What did I miss?"

I took the microphone from him, my expression unreadable.

"Nothing significant."