“Look out!”
Elizabeth moved like a storm unleashed, shoving Elijah aside and stepping in front of him. Asher’s fist, despite his attempt to pull back, struck Elizabeth square on the shoulder with the unstoppable momentum of a runaway train. Her bare skin reddened instantly from the impact. Asher froze, his arm extended, the reality of his mistake dawning on him.
“Elizabeth… are you okay?”
“What the hell were you thinking?!” Elijah’s voice cracked like a whip, fury blazing in his eyes as he assessed the swelling bruise on Elizabeth’s shoulder. His glare fixed on Asher, cold and sharp as frostbite. The air crackled with tension.
With deliberate carelessness, Elijah shrugged off his expensive suit jacket, letting it fall to the ground like discarded paper—a gesture of disdain, a warning of impending trouble. Elizabeth felt her stomach drop. This wasn't just anger; it was the calm before the storm. She’d seen this side of him before, and it wasn't easily forgotten.
That night flashed through her mind: They had been on their way to dinner when they passed a private room. A drunken man had slurred a lewd comment about Sandra, an insult Elijah couldn't ignore. Without a word, he’d entered the room like a predator, grabbed the man by the collar, and unleashed a furious barrage of punches, each landing with a sickening thud. Even when influential guests intervened, Elijah remained unmoved, his rage consuming him. By the time he finished, the man was a crumpled heap on the floor, barely recognizable except for faint groans. Elijah delivered one final, brutal kick before straightening his cuffs as if nothing had happened. Elizabeth had shouted, pleaded, but it was like trying to stop a hurricane with a whisper. In the end, she’d guarded the door, preventing others from witnessing the carnage.
Earlier, when Asher lunged, she had stepped in front of Elijah not to protect him, but out of sheer terror. The image of the man's bloodied face still haunted her.
“Don’t fight!” Elizabeth gritted her teeth against the pain in her shoulder and grabbed Elijah’s arm, her fingers trembling but firm. His gaze fell on her, dark and unreadable. Moments ago, she had shielded him, putting herself in harm's way, and it had struck a chord within him. But now, seeing her intercede for Asher made something in his chest tighten painfully. When had she started showing others the same special kindness she once reserved for him?
Godwin rushed over, confusion etched on his face. He looked to Elizabeth for an explanation. Summoning a brittle smile, she attempted to ease the tension. “I’m fine. Really. It’s nothing—just a little bump. I’m not made of porcelain, you know.” Her smile, meant to reassure, only deepened the storm in Elijah’s eyes.
He turned to Asher and Godwin, his voice like ice over steel. “You might want to reconsider that endorsement deal with my company. From where I’m standing, it looks like you don’t value it anymore.”
Godwin paled, sweat gleaming on his brow. He stammered, hands raised in appeasement, “No, no, no! It’s all a misunderstanding! A complete misunderstanding!”