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Chapter 448
Chapter 448:
He lunged forward like a striking viper, seized the lapels of Cole’s expensive suit with both hands, and heaved. Cole’s back slammed into the heavy steel door of his own Maybach with a bone-rattling crash. The impact drove directly into his already-bruised ribs, stoking his feral rage to a white heat.
“Shut your filthy mouth, Cole!” Crawford roared. The veins in his neck strained against his collar. The killing intent in his gray eyes was absolute and entirely unmasked.
Cole’s bodyguards moved immediately, hands reaching for concealed weapons.
Cole raised one hand, ordering them to stand down. He didn’t flinch. He looked at Crawford’s furious face and let out a dark, mocking laugh.
“What’s the matter, Crawford?” Cole taunted, his eyes gleaming with sick satisfaction. “Did I hit a nerve? How does it feel to pick up my used goods p>
Crawford’s right fist pulled back, ready to shatter Cole’s jaw.
рo𝘱𝘶𝗹а𝘳 𝘴t𝘰𝘳i𝗲𝗌 o𝗇 ѕ.с𝗈𝗆
He stopped.
His fist hung trembling in the air. His eyes swept the sidewalk. Dozens of pedestrians had frozen in place, cell phones already raised, recording every second. If he threw this punch, June’s face would be plastered across every tabloid in the country as the center of a billionaire brawl.
He could not do that to her.
Crawford slowly lowered his fist. He shoved Cole away in disgust, turned his back on him, and walked over to June. He removed his suit jacket and draped it gently over her shoulders, shielding her from the cold air and the prying cameras.
“I will handle this,” Crawford murmured, his voice dropping to something quiet and steady. “Get out of here. Do not let this lunatic contaminate your morning p>
He raised his hand and flagged down a passing yellow cab.
June looked at Cole’s deranged, smug face and made her calculation instantly. Engaging with him would only feed the sickness. She pulled Crawford’s jacket tighter around herself, gave a single nod, and climbed into the back of the taxi.
She pulled the door shut.
Cole stood pinned against his Maybach, watching the yellow cab accelerate away — taking his wife with it, wrapped in the jacket of his worst enemy.
The smugness drained from his face entirely.
The violence inside him reached the point of no return.
The yellow cab disappeared into the dense Manhattan traffic.
Crawford stood in the middle of Fifth Avenue and watched the taillights vanish, making certain June was completely clear of the situation.
Then he turned around.
The restrained gentleman was gone. The man now facing Cole was a predator who had slipped his leash entirely — gray eyes devoid of hesitation, filled only with cold, calculating violence.
Cole straightened his suit jacket and pulled the lapels flat. He looked at Crawford and produced a hollow, bitter smirk.
“What’s wrong?” Cole said, his voice laced with venom. “Does it hurt to watch her run? You can play the white knight all you want, but she still wears my ring p>
Crawford did not raise his voice. He let out a low, dark chuckle that sent a chill through the nearby bodyguards.
He took one slow, deliberate step toward Cole, closing the distance until he was inches from his face.