Chapter 2 - The Weight of Silence
Trevor clutched his bruised wrist to his chest, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The arrogance that had fueled his tirade only moments before had completely evaporated, replaced by a primal, suffocating fear.
He looked at Sadi, then up at the towering figure of Roman. His mind furiously tried to bridge the gap between the impoverished, exhausted girl he had abandoned three years ago and the untouchable woman standing before him now.
“You assaulted me,” Trevor choked out, his voice cracking. He tried to summon his lawyer persona, but it fell completely flat. “I can have you arrested. There are cameras in here.”
Roman did not even look at him.
He reached out and gently took Sadi’s hand, his thumb lightly brushing across her knuckles. His touch was incredibly tender, a jarring contrast to the violence he had just inflicted.
“Did he touch you anywhere else?” Roman asked her, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.
“He kicked my calf,” Sadi replied, her voice steady. She felt no need to lie or protect Trevor. The days of shielding her abuser were long gone.
Roman’s icy eyes finally shifted back to Trevor.
The temperature in the boutique seemed to drop another ten degrees. The two large men in dark charcoal suits, Arthur and Silas, stepped silently into the store. They did not draw weapons. They simply crossed their arms and stood by the entrance, effectively barricading the doors.
The boutique manager, a nervous man in a slim-fit suit, rushed forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture.
“Gentlemen, please,” the manager stammered, looking fearfully at Roman. “Is there a problem here?”
Roman reached into his inner jacket pocket and withdrew a sleek, black titanium card. He placed it gently on the glass display case.
“There is no problem,” Roman said smoothly, though his eyes never left Trevor’s pale face. “My wife was admiring these rhodium cufflinks. We will take them.”
The manager stared at the name embossed on the black card. All the color drained from his face instantly.
May you like
“Of... of course, Mr. Mercer,” the manager stuttered, his hands shaking as he rushed to open the locked case. “Right away, sir. I apologize for any disruption.”
Trevor’s eyes widened. He recognized the name. Anyone who operated in the upper echelons of the city’s legal and financial sectors knew the name Mercer. It was a name associated with offshore accounts, violent takeovers, and bodies that were never found.
