Chapter 6
At the massive iron gates of the Thorne estate, the Pacific wind howled, carrying the scent of salt and rain. Marcus stood outside the reinforced steel bars, leaning against his rusted sedan. He looked exactly as Harper remembered—handsome in a cruel, sharp way, radiating an arrogant sense of entitlement. He was smoking a cigarette, looking utterly unbothered by the three heavily armed security guards aiming assault rifles at his chest from behind the gate.
The heavy pedestrian door built into the wall hissed open. Silas stepped out into the freezing wind, flanked by Bane. The massive hound bared his teeth, a low, guttural snarl vibrating in the air.
Marcus smirked, tossing his cigarette onto the wet asphalt. "You must be the guy who placed the ad. I appreciate you taking in my runaway fiancé. But playtime is over. Tell Harper to pack her bags. We're going home."
Silas didn't blink. He walked slowly up to the iron bars, stopping just inches from Marcus on the other side. The sheer difference in their presence was staggering. Marcus was a domestic bully; Silas was a warlord.
"You have exactly ten seconds to get back in your car and drive away," Silas said. His voice wasn't raised. It was a quiet, absolute promise of violence. "If you ever come within a hundred miles of this coast again, they will never find your body."
Marcus scoffed, puffing out his chest. "Listen here, rich boy. She belongs to me. I have a legal right to—"
Silas moved faster than the human eye could track. His arm shot through the iron bars, his large hand clamping around Marcus’s throat with the crushing force of a vice. He slammed Marcus face-first into the steel gate, the impact echoing loudly over the crashing waves.
Marcus choked, his hands clawing desperately at Silas's iron grip, his feet lifting off the ground.
"She belongs to no one," Silas whispered directly into Marcus's ear, his eyes dead and soulless. "But she is under my protection. You are a coward who hits women. I am a monster who breaks men. Do not mistake my restraint for patience. Do you understand me?"
Marcus gasped for air, his eyes bulging with genuine terror as he realized he had crossed a line he couldn't see. He nodded frantically.
Silas released him, letting Marcus crumple to the wet asphalt, coughing and gasping.
"Run," Silas commanded.
May you like
Marcus scrambled backward, threw himself into his sedan, and tore down the coastal highway, the tires screeching against the pavement.
Silas watched the taillights disappear into the fog. He reached down, resting his hand on Bane's head to calm the bristling hound. The threat was gone, but the rage in Silas's chest continued to burn. He turned back toward the estate. He had protected Harper today, but he knew with absolute certainty that this was only the beginning.
