Chapter 435
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Chapter 435:
Carter’s mind screamed at him to fight back. He tried to struggle, but Pierce shifted his weight, pressing forward and immobilizing him completely.
The betrayal, when it came, was instantaneous. Despite his panic and his anger, Carter’s body recognized the man who had taken him apart three days ago. A jolt of electric heat flooded through him. His rigid muscles went slack. A helpless sound escaped the back of his throat.
Pierce felt the shift. His grip on Carter’s jaw softened as the kiss deepened.
The realization snapped something inside Carter. The self-loathing was explosive and immediate.
He clamped his jaw shut and bit down hard on Pierce’s lower lip.
Pierce flinched violently, tearing his mouth away with a sharp hiss of pain. He stumbled back half a step, hand flying to his bleeding lip.
Carter didn’t hesitate. He shoved Pierce with everything he had, bolted across the room, threw back the deadbolt, and wrenched the heavy door open.
“Stay the hell away from me!” Carter snarled, his voice wild, his eyes wilder.
He didn’t look back. He sprinted down the dark hallway and burst out of the club into the freezing night air.
He reached his Aston Martin at the curb. His hands shook so violently he could barely unlock the door. He threw himself into the driver’s seat, slammed it shut, and hit the lock.
He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth.
𝘋іѕс𝗼𝘃𝖾𝘳 𝗵і𝘥𝘥е𝗇 𝗀emѕ 𝗼𝗇
Carter gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, forcing his breathing to slow. The initial, suffocating terror began to recede, replaced by the cold, familiar fury of a Wall Street shark who had just been outplayed.
This was no longer a drunken mistake. This was no longer a bar confrontation. This was war.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a heavily encrypted, unlisted number. It rang twice before a gruff voice answered.
“I need a full deep-dive background check,” Carter said, his voice shaking with controlled rage. “Everything. Tax records, sealed court documents, former associates, buried secrets. I want the complete destruction of Preston Pierce p>
He hung up. He pressed the accelerator to the floor. The V12 engine roared as the Aston Martin tore down the empty street and disappeared into the dark.
The atmosphere inside the exclusive Michelin-starred French restaurant on the edge of Central Park was suffocatingly quiet.
Kieran Douglas sat rigidly in a velvet-upholstered chair wearing a stiff dark gray suit that felt like a straightjacket. His face was pale, his eyes sunken into dark, bruised hollows. He stared blankly at the crystal water glass in front of him.
He was completely dead inside.
Two hours earlier, his father had delivered the final ultimatum. Douglas Tech was hemorrhaging cash, the stock pennies away from being delisted. If Kieran did not secure this specific marriage alliance today, he would be stripped of his trust fund, his shares, and his family name, and thrown onto the street with nothing.
The maître d’ approached and pulled out the chair opposite Kieran.
Isabelle Sterling sat down.