The Syndicate’s Bride

Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Vanessa

After leaving Ryan, I went looking for some peace and quiet before returning to our appointed seats.

I had no idea where he went after leaving him by himself, and he still hadn’t come to his seat. But I didn’t let it bother me and I surely didn’t want his company.

I was still pissed at him.

I was sipping on my second glass of champagne when a waiter approached me. Thinking he was here to ask for empty glasses, I held my half full glass up with a polite smile, telling him I wasn’t done with my drink. Instead, he shook his head and dipped low to make sure I heard him under the music.

“Someone requests your presence at the terrace, Miss. Logan.”

I frowned. “Who? And what for.”

He shook his head apologetically. “Sorry, but I don’t know. I was only sent to get you.” With that, he bowed low before standing to his full height and moving to the side as if waiting for me to comply.

This wasn’t a banquet where I was familiar enough with anyone to have conversations in a cosy, quiet place, so something definitely didn’t sit right with me. But at the same time, I had a feeling I shouldn’t ignore summons or calls in this place so as not to cause an unnecessary scene.

With that thought, I subtly tapped the gun attached to my skirt under my dress, confirming its presence just in case things took a turn for the worst.

Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to use it.

Wordlessly, the waiter led me to the terrace where a couple of drinks in silver metal cups stood on a decorated table. Other than that, it was completely empty and even the music could barely be heard from this distance.

The waiter said the lady who sent for me would be arriving soonso we both stood there waiting patiently. A lady, I thought. At least I could place a gender to the unknown stranger.

Suddenly, a scream of help from down stairs caught me off guard, chilling my bones and spiking my anxiety. Without thinking, I ran forward, leaning against the rails of the terrace toget a clearer view of the person in need of help.

And that was when I felt it; the feel of hands on my back followed by a push violent enough to force me over the terrace.

It happened so fast. Already half way over the terrace, I couldn’t comprehend the situation in time. My heart beat rapidly against my chest in dread and I closed my eyes, preparing for impact.

Is this really it? Is this how I die?

But just before I could fully tip over the terrace familiar hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me back on my feet and safely glued to his back.

I panted heavily, unable to calm my anxiety having been so close to death only a few seconds ago. In fear, my lips trembled and my eyes stung with unshed tears. If Ryan had been a second too late, I would have been on the cold ground, spinal cord broken, and my head smashed.

Oh my God.

Before I could recover from the shock, Ryan was already on the run, chasing after the waiter who had taken off after his failed attempt.

My fear slowly diffused into anger, and before I could stop myself, my legs moved after Ryan and the waiter. As a former athlete in high school, I found it easy to keep up with them, only stopping when the waiter got closer to the hallway’s exit.

Not on my f*****g watch.

“Ryan, move out of my frame!” I yelled as I pulled out my gun. Ryan looked over his shoulder, and noticing the pistol in my hand, he moved to the side. With a clean aim at the waiter’s leg, I pulled the trigger.

Some of father’s forced trainings really do pay off, huh?

He fell to the ground with a yelp and rolled in pain. Still,determined to get away from an angry Ryan, he began to crawl away. But Ryan easily caught up to him, stepping on his injured leg which made the waiter howl in pain, before grabbing him by his hair and turning him around.

“You have only one chance to confess,” Ryan seethed. “Who sent you?”

The waiter, in pain, found it difficult to make words, but this only fuelled Ryan’s anger. Drawing his free hand back, he brought it down in a brutal blow across the man’s face.

Even I winced.

“Who told you to touch her?” He asked again, and the waiter, unable to recover from the previous punch, hesitated again.

Ryan punched him again, continuously.

“Who,”

punch

“told,”

punch,

“you”

punch

“to,”

punch

“touch,”

punch

“her?”

punch.

The waiter’s body went limp in Ryan’s grip and having heard bones snapping as he punched the man, I thought he was dead. But before I could inwardly panic, he coughed out blood and made a wheezing sound like he was struggling to breathe.

I sighed in relief. As much as I wanted him to pay for what he had done, I didn’t want blood on our hands.

Finally, some guards came running and taking in the scene, they simply bowed at Ryan and waited for his instructions.

“Tie him up and take him to the banquet hall,” he rose to his feet, clenching his arm in fists, making his bruised knuckles visible, “he crossed the line.”

Ryan

Gasps and murmurs followed our return into the banquet hall. I glanced behind me, making sure Vanessa trailed closely behind me even though I held on to her hand.

After I saved her, she had trembled in fear so hard I could feel the vibrations. It was all I needed to see to go after the waiter.

I would have killed him. I would have snapped his neck right there on the spot but only held back because of Vanessa, who I was beginning to think, after the incident in Esmeralda’s shop, had something against murder.

Plus, there would have been no logical way to explain how I’d easily broken the man’s neck like it was a floss stick.

The music stopped as the guards dropped the bound waiter in the middle of the hall. I looked around, making sure to lock eyes with everyone in the room, before my voice came out with a silent roar.

“Which one of you order an assassination on my fiancé?” I stepped forward, commanding the crowd. “You all know what I’m capable of. I’ll give the offender one last chance to confess, if not, everyone present will suffer for the perpetrator’s action.”

Wide scared eyes exchanged silent glances, and the metal links roared to life as people began to beg, swearing on their lives and the goddess that they could never conjure an assassination attempt on the Alpha’s fiancé of all people.

Sounded like bullshit to me.

I swept my eyes over the terrified guests, stopping at a familiar man. He jumped at our eye contact and quickly tore his eyes away, but it was too late,

I had already seen him.

I walked to him and dragging him by the collar, brought him forward and forced him to his knees.

“You seemed to have a lot to say about my fiancé earlier today, did you finally decide to silence her for good?”

The man who verbally harassed Vanessa in the fashion shop trembled in fear, stumbling over his words in a rush to get themout.

“I would never dream of it, Mr. Winchester,” he answered, his forehead breaking a sweat. “The incident was a one time thing, please, have mercy on me.”

The man quickly bowed, laying down at my feet in plea to be spared. He didn’t seem to have any feel of bravery about him. If anything, he struck me as a coward who hid behind his foul mouth and riches.

He definitely wasn’t the one.

Seeing as he was of no use to me, I threw him to the ground with a tsk and watched as he scurried away.

Bit by bit, I could feel my anger growing at the situation. This was no longer just about Vanessa getting hurt anymore, it was also about how easily they had done it and how close they were to getting away with it.

They wanted us to look weak.

I couldn’t let that happen.

With a wave of a finger, I called for my guards.

“Smash this place to pieces.”

My guards moved forward, taking different corners of the hall,and went straight to work. They tumbled the tables over, leaving a trail of broken glasses and plates, smashed the chairs and tables against the floor, causing fearful yelps and murmurs from the guests.

I wasn’t even close to getting started.

“I really really wish you wouldn’t break the bottles of wine,” someone said and I didn’t need to see her to know who exactly it was. “They’re Barolo and barbaresco.”

Everywhere went silent.

Tia Rossi stepped into the scene, walking gracefully in her emerald green dress which sparkled against her honey skin.

She wore an unreadable expression, almost bored looking, on her face as she walked to me. Her skin was absent of blemishes and her makeup as flawless as her aura.

She looked me up and down before humming past me and to a certain someone behind me. Stopping before Vanessa, who wore a relaxed look on her face despite everything that had happened in the last few minutes, she reached behind her ear and tucked in a stray strand from her slick bun.

“Scared? Miss. Logan?” she asked lazily, dropping her hand to Vanessa’s and holding onto the gun. She began trying to pry itoff Vanessa’s hands but the latter held her ground, squaring up to Tia who chuckled, finding her actions amusing.

“You’re really cute, aren’t you?” She asked, slowly peeling Vanessa’s fingers off the gun with her wolf strength. Vanessa watched in slight confusion, unable to explain the source of Tia’s strength while Tia merely shrugged, turning away from her as she twirled the gun in the air and walked to the waiter.

When she stopped before the waiter, her features marred into one of disgust. She sighed as if we had just intruded on her weekend and elegantly stepped on the waiter’s bound hands with her heels. The waiter screamed in agony.

“Was he the one who pushed you?” She asked, looking at Vanessa over her shoulders. Vanessa didn’t reply, her expression blank yet slightly annoyed as she watched Tia. The latter shrugged, unfazed, and turned back to the waiter. “It’s fine. Doesn’t matter. Let’s remove his two hands.”

Aiming the gun directly at the waiter’s hands, she fired two shots, each for one hand. The waiter howled in agony.

The guest gasped as they shrunk further into themselves, afraid that they might be the next target. But Tia ignored them by walking to me and placing the gun in my hand before bringing her hand to her waist in a laid back pose. “If you want to know the culprit, Ryan, give me thirty percent of your casino profits and I’ll tell you.”

I almost laughed. “I’ll pass.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself, handsome.” She peered down her dress, running her hand down the fabric to smoothen absent wrinkles when she sighted little drops of the waiter blood on her designer shoes and sighed in frustration.

“Well, f**k. I just got these.”