Chapter 3 - The Extended Hand
Thaddius’s voice instantly faltered. Even through the heavy haze of cheap whiskey, some primitive, animal instinct deep inside his brain recognized absolute, lethal danger.
Wesley didn't respond to the threat. Instead, he slowly turned his back on Thaddius, completely dismissing the drunk as a non-threat.
Wesley looked down at Cora sitting among the shattered plates. The expression in his dark eyes shifted. There was absolutely no pity in them. Pity was for victims. This was something far more restrained. Something deeply personal.
He extended a scarred, powerful hand toward her.
Cora hesitated, her breath catching in her throat. She had never been protected before. Slowly, her trembling fingers reached out and placed themselves into his.
Wesley pulled her to her feet with effortless, careful strength.
Once she was fully standing, Wesley smoothly removed his custom-tailored suit jacket. He stepped behind her and gently draped the heavy fabric over her shaking shoulders. The jacket still carried his warmth.
In a room completely filled with cowards who had refused to move, the gentle gesture felt like a massive, undeniable declaration of war.
Wesley turned back to Thaddius.
"Do you have any idea," Wesley asked, his tone sounding almost politely curious, "where you have just chosen to behave this way?"
Thaddius opened his mouth to shout another insult, but before he could form the words, Wesley was already pulling a sleek black cell phone from his pocket. He never took his eyes off the abusive stepfather as he pressed a single button on speed dial.
The call connected in less than two seconds.
"Rowan," Wesley gave a single, terrifying instruction. "Come to me. Now."
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He hung up the phone.
👉 How will Thaddius try to escape the trap he just walked into?
