Chapter 80
Emily Windsor's POV
Lawrence applauded leisurely, a victor's smug smile playing across his features as his gaze swept between us and the bodies littering the floor. It finally settled on Luke, brimming with undisguised mockery.
"Mr. Victor, impressive work," he marveled with exaggerated admiration. "I thought after all that effort to clean up your image, you'd forgotten your roots. But that savage edge you dragged out of the gutter—still sharp as ever, I see."
Behind him, the guests he'd brought as witnesses stared at the carnage, then at Luke's impassive face, their eyes swimming with visceral fear.
This was exactly the effect Lawrence wanted.
He needed everyone to witness with their own eyes that Luke remained, at his core, a barbarian who solved problems with violence.
"Nothing to say?" Lawrence took two steps forward, his leather shoes squelching against the blood-slicked floor with a sickening adhesive sound. "Cat got your tongue now that someone's pulled back the curtain? Luke, you can't escape what you are—a rat that crawled out of the sewers. You can dress up in a thousand-dollar suit, but you'll never wash off the stench. Rats belong in the dark where no one has to look at them."
His words were needles dipped in poison, each one stabbing into my most vulnerable places.
I watched Luke's jaw tighten, saw how his body angled protectively toward me, and an ungovernable fury detonated in my chest.
Before anyone could react, I wrenched myself from Luke's embrace, charged forward, and slapped Lawrence across the face with every ounce of strength I possessed.
The sharp crack echoed through the deathly silent storage room with pristine clarity.
Lawrence's head snapped to the side, his triumphant smile freezing in place.
He clearly hadn't expected me to strike him under these circumstances.
"You despicable bastard!" My entire body trembled with rage, chest heaving violently. Each word scraped from between my clenched teeth.
Lawrence slowly turned his head back, a vivid handprint blooming across his cheek. Far from angry, he extended his tongue and traced it along his stinging lip, the amusement in his eyes growing more twisted and manic.
"You're right. I am despicable." He regarded me like an entertaining piece of art. "But so what? He still broke his precious code for you."
The moment the words left his mouth, Luke stepped forward and pulled me back behind him, using his towering frame to sever the revolting connection between Lawrence's gaze and me.
"Protecting my woman," Luke's voice carried the chill of arctic ice, yet held an unyielding righteousness, "I'll use whatever means necessary."
He didn't even bother looking at Lawrence again, merely giving Andy a subtle signal.
Within seconds, two bodyguards dragged in a man whose legs had turned to jelly with fear.
Jacob.
When his eyes landed on the blood and bodies, the last traces of color drained from his face. His entire body shook like a leaf in a hurricane, incomprehensible whimpers spilling from his lips as the acrid stench of urine suddenly permeated the air.
"Mr. Lowe... save me..." He stretched a trembling hand toward Lawrence, eyes brimming with supplication.
Luke didn't give him the chance.
He released me and walked slowly toward Jacob, once again producing the suppressor-fitted handgun from inside his jacket. The black muzzle pressed against Jacob's forehead with emotionless finality.
"Tell the truth," Luke's voice was soft, yet carried a pressure that shattered Jacob's soul, "or I'll show you what it feels like when a bullet enters your skull."
Jacob's body convulsed violently. His crotch darkened with a spreading wet stain. Unable to withstand the absolute terror, he dissolved into tears and snot, begging for mercy. "It wasn't me, I don't know anything... please, don't kill me..."
He shook his head frantically while pleading, yet simultaneously cast an aggrieved, resentful look toward Lawrence.
That look held accusation and desperate appeal, but in the end, he didn't dare speak, merely curling into a ball and shaking violently in silence.
Watching Jacob's pathetic display made the fury in my chest burn hotter instead of dissipating.
"Coward." The word left my lips coldly, not loud but landing like twin slaps across Jacob's face.
He flinched sharply and raised his tear-stained face to stare at me blankly.
"You've always been like this, Jacob." Ice crystallized in my voice, each syllable a razor blade peeling back his fragile self-respect. "Never willing to face the consequences of your actions. Always deflecting blame onto others! When you were jealous of me before, you used the vilest language to slander me. Now that you're desperate, you willingly become someone's dog and turn around to bite me! You don't even have the courage to point at your real enemy—you just grovel and beg for scraps. What kind of man are you?"
My words were red-hot needles piercing Jacob's already riddled dignity.
The fear in his eyes gradually transformed into a color of humiliated rage. He glared at me, then turned to look at Lawrence's leisurely, amused expression.
That mocking face represented the source of all his current pain and shame.
Perhaps my words finally ignited the last ember of backbone buried deep inside him. He seemed to reach some decisive breaking point, struggling up from the floor and raising his trembling arm to point directly at Lawrence with all his remaining strength.
"It was him! He approached me!" Jacob's voice came out shrill and hoarse. "He gave me money, gave me drugs, told me to come here and destroy you! He said if I did what he asked, he'd give me enough money to start over! He forced me into this! All of it was him!"
Lawrence's smile finally vanished.
He stared at Jacob with a predatory darkness, as though regarding a disobedient toy, a flicker of murderous intent crossing his features. He raised his hand subtly, apparently intending to signal his bodyguards to silence Jacob permanently.
He was fast. Luke's men were faster.
Before Lawrence's hand fully lifted, several shadows burst from the passage we'd entered through, moving with lightning precision to immobilize Lawrence and the guests he'd brought as witnesses.
Lawrence's arms were wrenched behind his back, his handsome face instantly contorting with shock and fury.
"Luke!" he snarled. "You wouldn't dare!"
Luke didn't even glance at him, returning his attention to Jacob instead.
With the final threat neutralized, Jacob seemed to deflate completely, his legs giving out as he collapsed to the floor once more.