Chapter 8
Vincent's sudden appearance smothered the bar's rowdy noise, dropping the whole room into stunned silence.
Ashley's hold on the bottle slackened a fraction, surprise flashing across her eyes.
Her gaze lifted to the man standing there—composed, distant, and impossibly untouchable—and question after question crowded her mind.
In her previous life, she had barely crossed paths with Vincent. All she had known was that he was the one rival Nicolas had always feared most.
And yet now, this elusive man had shown up here in person and had even stepped in to pull her out of trouble?
"Mr. Greene… do you know her?" Still half-collapsed on the floor, Jordy's body trembled so hard his voice nearly broke apart around the words.
From every corner, people leaned in, ears pricked as their gazes flicked between Ashley and Vincent.
"Who exactly is she? What kind of woman could make Vincent Greene step in for her?"
"I thought he didn't care about women. Don't tell me he actually likes her. Is that why he got involved?"
"So Mr. Greene's really breaking his own rules tonight."
A short distance away, Nicolas's expression darkened so completely it was almost frightening. He fixed a hard stare on Vincent's back, his fingers curling tighter and tighter at his side before he even realized it.
If Vincent had truly taken an interest in Ashley, it would have been the cruelest possible slap in Nicolas's face.
Dayna looked just as shocked. Still reeling from Vincent's breathtaking face and unable to hold back, she leaned close to Ashley and murmured in a hushed rush, "Ash, don't tell me he's really here because of you. So what, he's been secretly crushing on you all this time? He put his name down for your matchmaking banquet, and now he's already showing up to save you?"
Without even taking a proper breath, Dayna pressed on. "Seriously, this entrance, this kind of pressure, this whole vibe? He's basically the ultimate billionaire fantasy. He's a thousand times better than that bastard Nicolas. As your best friend, I officially give this one my blessing."
Then, in the very next second, Vincent's chilly, unreadable voice cut straight through every last bit of her romantic imagination.
"This place belongs to me."
A faint tilt of Vincent's chin sent his gaze gliding over Jordy before it came to rest on Ashley. Whatever flickered in his eyes, it held no trace of warmth.
In a cool, merciless voice, he said, "You make a scene in my bar, you break my rules. Jordy, have you gotten tired of being alive?"
Everyone in Sleridge knew exactly how Vincent handled things—fast, brutal, and final. Under his watch, no one dared cross a line.
As soon as those words were spoken, the tight knot in Nicolas's chest finally loosened.
So that was the truth of it. Vincent had stepped in for one reason only: to defend the order of his bar.
Nicolas had known it all along. A woman like Ashley might have a beautiful face, but that was all she had. There was no way someone like Vincent would ever look at her twice.
The instant Jordy heard that, he looked like a man who had just been dragged back from the edge of death. He bobbed his head wildly and stammered, "Mr. Greene, please forgive me. I lost my head. I was drunk, and I crossed the line. I'll leave right now. Right now..."
He lurched upright, desperate to get off the floor.
"Don't move." Vincent's fingertip skimmed over his cuff link, and his voice stayed so even it sounded like he was commenting on the weather. "Did I give you permission to leave?"
Jordy went rigid. A chill swept through him as cold sweat soaked his back. "M-Mr. Greene… what more do you want from me? I'll pay. No matter how much it is, I'll pay."
"In a Greene establishment, anyone who breaks the rules leaves behind a hand." With a slight turn of his head, Vincent signaled the men behind him. "Since you don't seem able to do it yourself, I'll have someone assist you."
At that, Jordy panicked and blurted, "Mr. Greene, my father is Dale Howard. Howard Realty works with Greene Group. Please, Mr. Greene..."
Not even a flicker crossed Vincent's face. His voice remained cold enough to cut. "In Sleridge, my rules aren't up for discussion. Do it."
Then a nauseating crack split the air.
Jordy's scream ripped across the bar from end to end.
All around them, the onlookers turned deathly pale. Several people recoiled so violently they squeezed their eyes shut on the spot.
Pain knocked Jordy unconscious almost at once. The bodyguards hauled him out like dead weight and tossed him onto the street as if he were nothing but trash.
Then Vincent let his eyes travel across the room, and the brutal pressure in that single glance made everyone bow their heads before they even realized it.
"That's what happens to anyone who breaks my rules."
After delivering that cold warning, he turned on his heel and strode off.
From start to finish, his gaze never once returned to Ashley, as if she were nothing more than a blur in the background, too insignificant to notice.
Only when the last black-suited bodyguard vanished from sight did the air in the bar begin to flow again.
Clutching her chest, Dayna tipped back her drink in one long swallow, her face still drained of color. "Ash... I take it back. Vincent Greene isn't some billionaire fantasy. He's a devil. A monster. That was horrifying."
Lingering fear trembled through her as she caught Ashley's hand in a tight grip. "Maybe we should cross him off the list. A man like that… if you ever ended up on the wrong side of him, you wouldn't stand a chance. Let's find you someone kinder—someone safe."
Instead of answering, Ashley kept her gaze fixed on the doorway Vincent had disappeared through, her expression distant and unreadable.
Rules?
No matter how she turned it over, it didn't make sense. A man who controlled Greene Group would never bother personally intervening over some petty drunk causing a scene.
So what exactly was Vincent playing at?
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