Chapter 6 - A Mask Begins to Slip
Nora stepped back slightly, but I kept my body positioned protectively in front of her.
"You should be inside celebrating Evelyn's birthday, Miles," I said coldly.
"I ran a quick background check on my phone while you two were playing romantic partners out here," Miles said, taking a slow sip of his scotch. He looked at Nora with a smug, cruel smile. "Did you know who you actually hired off the street, Nora? Or did you just pick the scariest guy in the room?"
Nora frowned. "What are you talking about?"
Miles stepped closer, pointing an accusing finger at me. "Evan Cole isn't just a developer. Three years ago, he was investigated by a federal grand jury regarding a dock strike in Savannah. Two men who tried to extort his shipping line ended up in federal prison, and their company went completely bankrupt overnight."
I didn't blink. I didn't shift my weight. "They tried to bribe my workers and burn down my warehouse, Miles. I handed the FBI the evidence that put them away. If you think enforcing the law is scary, you have a very soft view of the world."
"You're a thug in an expensive suit," Miles spat out, his polite, country-club veneer vanishing entirely. He turned to Nora. "He's using you to get access to your family's real estate connections. You think he cares about your little bakery? He's a predator, Nora!"
Nora took a step forward, her voice ringing out with an absolute, defensive fury that surprised even me.
"Shut up, Miles!" Nora snapped, her eyes blazing. "Evan has treated me with more respect in two hours than you have in three years! You don't care about me—you care about my mother's business and your own ego! You're a pathetic, desperate bully!"
Miles’s face flushed dark purple. "Nora, I am offering you a real life! A respectable family! A partnership!"
"I don't want your life!" she shouted.
Lost in his sudden rage, Miles reached out to grab Nora's wrist. "You're coming back inside to apologize to your mother right now—"
He never finished the sentence.
Before his fingers could graze her skin, I crossed the distance between us in a fraction of a second. I clamped my hand around Miles’s throat, slamming him hard against the brick wall of the estate. His scotch glass shattered against the patio floor.
The air rushed out of his lungs in a sharp gasp. His eyes went wide with pure, unadulterated terror as he found himself pinned six inches off the ground by a man who looked ready to end him.
"Touch her again," I whispered, my voice so low and lethal that the temperature in the courtyard seemed to drop ten degrees, "and they won't find enough of you to fill a shoe box."
Miles clawed frantically at my hand, his face turning blue, nodding desperately.
"Evan! Stop!" Nora cried out, touching my arm. "Please! He's not worth it!"
At the touch of her hand, the icy rage consuming me vanished. I let go. Miles collapsed onto the brick pavers, coughing violently, gasping for air as he clutched his chest.
"Get out of my sight," I ordered coldly.
Miles scrambled to his feet, terrified, and practically sprinted back through the french doors into the estate.
I turned back to Nora. My chest was heaving slightly, my knuckles white. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that in front of you."
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Nora stared at me, her breathing shallow. But there was no fear in her eyes. She stepped right up to me, reached up, and placed her soft hands against my face.
"Thank you," she whispered softly.
