Chapter 6 - The Ultimatum
The cold muzzle of Viktor's enforcer's gun pressed harder against the back of Tyler’s neck, and Tyler let out a pathetic, high-pitched sob that echoed across the quiet driveway.
"Please, Emily! Tell him to stop!" Tyler wept, his expensive designer jacket dragging in the dirt. "Tell them to let me go! I’m sorry! I’m sorry I ever said those things to you! I'll take back everything!"
I stared down at the man who had spent three years systematically destroying my confidence, convincing me that I was worthless, ordinary, and unlovable. A year ago, seeing him terrified and broken like this might have broken my heart.
Now? I felt nothing. Just a profound, liberating emptiness.
"You're asking the wrong person, Tyler," I said quietly, my voice cutting through his panic. "You made your choices. Now live with them."
Viktor’s eyebrows arched in mild surprise. He exhaled a thin cloud of smoke into the crisp afternoon air, looking at me with a twisted sort of amusement. "Cold. I like that. Perfect for a mob boss's girlfriend."
Vincent didn't flinch. His dark eyes remained fixed on Viktor with an unreadable, lethal calm. He didn't look at Tyler; he didn't look at the gun. He only looked at the man pulling the strings.
"You think threatening a pathetic civilian gives you leverage over me, Viktor?" Vincent asked, his voice steady and low. "You've miscalculated. Tyler means nothing to me, and he means even less to Emily."
"Ah, but what about the girl?" Viktor purred, taking a slow step closer to the iron bars. "The public adulation? The media circus? Every news station in New York is running live updates on your little romance. How long do you think her fragile heart will survive when the bodies start piling up around her?"
"If a single hair on her head is harmed, Viktor, I won't just take your shipping routes," Vincent replied, every word landing like a sledgehammer. "I will burn your entire empire to ash, salt the earth beneath your headquarters, and hunt down every last man loyal to your name until there is nothing left of the Vance bloodline."
The sheer, suffocating weight of Vincent’s threat hung in the air so heavily that even Viktor’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. The scarred mobster realized, with sudden clarity, that Vincent wasn't bluffing.
Viktor lowered his cigarette slowly. "Brave words, Vincent. Let's see how brave you are when the financial board cuts off your international accounts tomorrow morning."
With a sharp wave of his hand, Viktor signaled his men. The enforcer yanked Tyler up by his collar, tossing him roughly onto the pavement like a sack of garbage.
"Let's go," Viktor snapped.
His men piled back into the SUVs, tires screeching as the convoy tore down the private drive, leaving Tyler sobbing on the asphalt and Vanessa frantically trying to call an Uber from the side of the road.
Vincent didn't watch them leave. He turned immediately toward me, his hands reaching out to gently cup my face.
"Are you shaking?" he asked, his voice dropping all its cold authority, replaced entirely by raw, aching concern.
"I'm fine," I whispered, though my fingers were indeed trembling slightly. I looked up into his dark eyes. "You just threatened to wage an all-out war over me."
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"I would burn the world down before I let anyone touch you," Vincent said fiercely, pressing his forehead gently against mine.
For a long moment, the chaos of the driveway, the viral videos, and the looming war with Viktor vanished. There was only the quiet warmth of his breath and the steady, unbreakable rhythm of his heart against mine.
