"I’ve got you," the woman whispered, her voice a soothing anchor in the middle of a nightmare. "You're safe now."
Clara looked up, her vision blurring, her voice barely a raspy whisper. "Please... please don't leave me alone with him."
The vulnerability in the young woman's plea was the spark that ignited the gunpowder. Julian, entirely unused to being ignored in his own domain, felt his ego flare into a violent rage. He slammed his whiskey glass down on a wooden tasting table, the crystal cracking under the force. He stepped forward aggressively, his dress shoes echoing sharply on the stone. Reaching down, he grabbed the older woman’s dark grey sleeve, his grip bruising and forceful, attempting to violently yank her away from the injured girl.
"I said, this is my estate!" Julian barked, his face flushing red, his aristocratic veneer shattering into thuggish anger. "Stay out of it!"