Chapter 132

Gasps erupted through the crowd as they realized the scream hadn't come from Vivian Lockhart at all.

Vincent Sharpe clutched his twisted arm, face contorted in pain. "You broke it! Damn bitch broke my arm!" Despite his injury, venom still dripped from his words. "Do you know who I am? Head of security for this entire summit! Everyone in Newport City knows not to cross me!"

His threats meant nothing to Vivian. She pressed her designer heel harder into his shoulder, watching with satisfaction as he whimpered. "Three seconds. Apologize to me and my team, or I'll snap the other one too."

The man writhed beneath her, pride warring with self-preservation. When Vivian increased pressure, his resolve shattered. "Alright! I'm sorry! I was out of line! Just...just let me go!"

Murmurs spread like wildfire through the gathering crowd.

"Is that woman insane? She just assaulted Ethan Blackwood's head of security!"

"Doesn't she know Nathaniel Blackwood practically owns this industry? Her company's finished."

"Rumor has it the new summit president is Blackwood's biggest investor. Lockhart Enterprises won't survive the week."

Vivian's interns trembled beside her. "Ms. Lockhart," one whispered urgently, "that's Mr. Blackwood's man! We should be begging for mercy, not provoking him!"

The name Nathaniel Blackwood carried weight in Newport City - more powerful than any law. Crossing someone under his protection was corporate suicide.

Vivian's lips curled in realization. "So that explains our revoked invitation." She removed her foot from Vincent's shoulder with deliberate slowness. "Tell your boss if he's got a problem with me, he should say it to my face. Using a public event for petty revenge? How childish."

A sudden hush fell over the hall as the crowd parted like the Red Sea. Someone important had arrived.

Vincent crawled toward the newcomer like a wounded animal seeking shelter. "Mr. Blackwood! I tried removing them as instructed, but this woman attacked me! She's challenging your authority right to your face!"

Vincent expected immediate retaliation. Nathaniel always protected his people.

The man who stepped forward bore no resemblance to the casual figure from earlier. Impeccable in a charcoal Tom Ford suit, every strand of hair perfectly in place, Nathaniel Blackwood commanded attention without speaking. His mere presence made lesser men check their collars.

Cold gray eyes flickered over Vincent's pathetic form before locking onto Vivian. "You did this?" Nathaniel's voice could freeze molten steel.

Vivian met his gaze without flinching. "He earned it." She squared her shoulders, ready for battle. "If you're here to fight for your lackey, let's get this over with."