Chapter 9 - Fractured Peace
Marcus stood motionless, the fury radiating from him so palpable that even the old judge shrank back behind his bench. For five agonizing seconds, neither brother blinked. The two armed bailiffs unclipped their holsters, their hands resting on their weapons.
Finally, Marcus broke into a low, mocking chuckle. ""A wife? You, Christian? The man who hasn't let a woman sleep in his bed since Eleanor went off that bridge?""
Clara felt Christian’s back stiffen under his suit jacket. A dark, visceral tension rippled through his shoulders, but his face remained an impenetrable mask of granite.
""Get out, Marcus,"" Christian commanded, his voice dead and dangerous.
Marcus took a slow step backward, his eyes locking onto Clara with a promise that made her stomach heave. ""Enjoy the penthouse, Clara. Enjoy the silk sheets and the diamonds. But remember who you belong to. A piece of paper won't protect you when my brother realizes you're just another burden he can't save.""
Marcus turned on his heel and strode out of the courtroom, his men following in tight formation. The heavy doors swung shut with a reverberating bang.
The silence that followed was suffocating. Christian stood still for a long moment, breathing slowly through his nose. When he finally turned around to face Clara, the warmth from his earlier vow was completely gone, replaced by the hollow, guarded expression of a ghost.
""Julian,"" Christian said, his voice flat. ""Escort my wife and the child back to the estate in upstate New York. The city isn't secure.""
May you like
""Christian,"" Clara called out, reaching toward him instinctively. ""Who is Eleanor?""
Christian looked down at her outstretched hand, then pulled back, refusing the contact. ""The woman Marcus murdered to get to me,"" he said coldly. ""And the reason you are never leaving my sight again.""
