“Why not call the cops? Aren’t you the type who goes after people? Or did he drive you crazy?” Felix snapped first.
Lydia kept staring at the floor. “What about my reputation? You know how the tabloids would spin this.”
“Afraid? You forget Julian owns a media outlet—who’d dare print crap with him around?” Felix started, then his face twisted.
“Or do you want me to deal with him myself? Fine—tell me WHICH hand touched you. Or both? I’ll cut the bastard’s hands off.”
Lydia’s mouth fell open—he was serious, his eyes were rimmed red with anger.
Just then, Henri’s phone buzzed, breaking the tense silence. Julian moved fast, rifled through Henri’s pockets, checked the incoming number and silenced it.
“Don’t do anything rash right now. Get this guy moved downstairs,” Julian ordered.
He c
