The room had not yet recovered from John Keel’s arrival.
His presence pressed down on the air like an invisible force, heavy enough to make spines straighten and breaths shallow. Men who ruled boardrooms and bullied subordinates now found themselves unable to meet his eyes for more than a second.
Emilia stared both in shock and surprise.
Yet John Keel did not look at his son.
His gaze was fixed on Dante.
Seconds dragged by in suffocating silence. No one dared speak. Even Stephen’s ragged breathing seemed too loud in the stillness.
Then one of John Keel’s men stepped forward briskly, passing Stephen as though he were no more than furniture.
“Mr. Dante,” the man said urgently, his eyes scanning Dante from head to toe. “Were you harmed?”
Another followed immediately, his tone edged w
