Chapter 79
Emily Windsor's POV
In the corner, an inconspicuous surveillance camera blinked with a sinister crimson light—a recording device bearing silent witness.
Lawrence released his grip on my arm and methodically straightened his immaculate cuffs, as though he'd merely touched something distasteful.
He surveyed the room with satisfaction, wearing the smug smile of a director admiring his stage.
"Miss Windsor," he turned to me, his voice dripping with poisoned honey, "don't look at me like that. I've prepared such a grand stage for you—you should be thanking me."
My heart sank inch by inch as a horrifying realization crystallized in my mind.
"Enjoy yourself," Lawrence gestured casually toward the group of thugs, his tone as light as if he were introducing a menu item. "Luke will be here soon to find you. I'm genuinely curious to see his expression when he discovers how his most treasured lawyer has been... entertained by such bottom-feeders."
The full extent of his vicious scheme finally crashed over me.
This wasn't about humiliating me alone—it was about forcing Luke's hand.
Luke was trying to legitimize the Victor family, to drag them from the swamp and establish a new order governed by rules and law, transforming them into a respectable business empire.
And Lawrence was orchestrating the most brutal trap imaginable to make him break his own code.
If Luke shed blood here—if he lost control in this room—every ounce of progress he'd made would evaporate in an instant.
He'd be branded a gangster thug all over again, permanently stained.
"You bastard!" I spat through gritted teeth, each word laced with towering hatred.
"Why, thank you." Lawrence accepted the insult as a compliment. He leaned in closer, his handsome face contorted with twisted satisfaction. "Dragging someone as untouchable as Luke down to hell and grinding him into the dirt... God, there's nothing more exquisite."
With that, he dismissed me entirely and strode toward the exit.
The heavy iron door slammed shut before me, the sound of the lock turning like a death sentence being pronounced.
Inside the room, the camera's red light burned brighter, more accusatory.
The men exchanged knowing glances, rubbing their hands together as they advanced on me step by step, their faces twisted with revolting leers.
I forced myself to stay calm, my mind racing frantically. I couldn't fight them head-on—I needed to buy time.
"I... my stomach..." I clutched my abdomen and let my body slide slowly down the wall, forcing pain across my features as my voice cracked with fake sobs. "Please... just let me use the restroom... just once..."
My performance was clumsy but convincing enough.
They paused for only a moment before erupting in mocking laughter.
The blonde ringleader crouched down, extending a greasy hand toward my chin.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. In a few minutes, we'll make you feel so good you'll forget all about that stomachache."
I turned my head away in disgust, drowning in despair.
Just as those filthy fingers were about to touch my face—
A deafening crash shattered the air as the heavy iron door was kicked inward with brutal force, the warped frame clattering to the floor.
A tall, imposing figure burst through the ruined entrance, radiating the savage fury of a demon straight from hell.
Luke didn't spare the stunned thugs a single glance. He strode directly to me, swiftly shrugging off his expensive suit jacket and wrapping it around my trembling form from head to toe.
"Don't be afraid," he murmured, pulling me tightly against his chest. The warmth of his body seeped through the fabric, grounding me. His voice was low and hoarse, trembling with the remnants of fear. "I'm here."
The men finally snapped out of their daze. One of them barked with false bravado, "Who the hell do you think you are?!"
Luke, still holding me, slowly turned to face them. Those deep black eyes no longer held their usual restraint or calculation—only an apocalyptic storm and bone-chilling killing intent.
He reached behind his waist and drew out a handgun fitted with a suppressor.
The black barrel stared at them like the eye of death itself.
The arrogance drained from their faces instantly, replaced by sheer terror. They scrambled backward, trying to flee.
But they'd already lost their chance.
Several muted pops—barely audible—and then silence reclaimed the room.
The men's bodies crumpled to the floor, warm blood pooling beneath them and spreading outward in vivid crimson under the harsh fluorescent lights.
The thick metallic stench of blood mingled with gunpowder, flooding my nostrils.
I stared at the carnage, my stomach churning violently. Black spots swam across my vision as my legs gave out beneath me.
"Emily!" Luke immediately holstered the gun and scooped me up in his arms, using his own body to block my view of the bloodshed. His arms locked around me so tightly it felt as though he wanted to fuse me into his bones.
I pressed my face against his solid chest, listening to his thundering heartbeat as consciousness slowly returned.
"You were too reckless..." My voice came out as weak as smoke. "Lawrence... the camera... he'll use this against you..."
Luke's stride didn't falter. Cradling me close, he stepped over the bodies without a backward glance and headed for the exit.
"I don't care."
He lowered his head and pressed a burning kiss to my freezing forehead. Those eyes that had just blazed with murderous rage now held only heartbreaking tenderness and lingering fear.
"Emily, all my restraint, all my veneer of civility—it exists so you can stand safely beside me." His voice was soft but ironclad. "If I can't even protect you, then what's the point of any of it?"
My tears finally broke free—not from fear, but from fury and terror at what he'd just sacrificed. I wasn't afraid for myself; I was terrified that he'd just destroyed the legitimacy he'd fought so hard to build, all for my sake.
"You're insane!" I clutched his shirt, my voice shaking uncontrollably as tears of desperation streamed down my face. "That's exactly what Lawrence wanted! That camera—he'll make this public, and everything you've worked for will be ruined!"
Luke held me even tighter. He looked down at me, using his thumb to roughly yet tenderly wipe away the tears on my cheeks.
His palm was scorching hot, still carrying the heat of gunpowder, yet it somehow calmed my unraveling nerves.
"Then let him destroy it." He stared into my eyes, those storm-dark depths filled with an obstinacy and determination that made my heart clench. "Emily, trust me."
At that moment, a slow, malicious clapping echoed from the kicked-in doorway.
My body went rigid. I followed the sound, and my heart plummeted into an abyss.
Lawrence stood framed in the entrance, flanked by several guests he'd deliberately invited to witness the carnage.