The manager’s voice boomed off the chandeliered ceiling. “You! Stand away from her. Now!”
Ethan blinked, looking around as if waiting for his family to defend him. But even Brianna had gone quiet, sensing the shift in atmospheric pressure. The security guards, three large men in dark uniforms, formed a wall between Ethan and me.
Ethan forced a laugh, holding his hands up. “Relax, buddy. It’s a domestic joke. My wife is sensitive. We’re just playing.”
“Playing?” The manager stepped closer. His nametag read Daniel Carter. His eyes were burning with a cold, professional fury. “You assaulted a woman in my hotel. You held a weapon to her head.”
“It’s hair!” Ethan snapped, his arrogance trying to claw its way back. “She’s my wife. I can do what I want.”
“That,” Daniel said, his voice deadly quiet, “is where you are very, very wrong.”
I was sobbing now, my hands covering my face, feeling the jagged ends of my hair. A female guest from a nearby table rushed over, draping her silk shawl over my shoulders.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered, guiding me away from the center of the room. “Don’t look at him.”
One of the security guards, a man with a shaved head and a scar above his brow, glared at Ethan. He turned to Daniel. “Sir… is that him? The guy from the briefing?”
Daniel didn’t take his eyes off Ethan. “Yes. That’s him.”
Ethan frowned, confusion warring with his anger. “What the hell are you talking about? Do you know who I am?”
“Oh, we know exactly who you are,” Daniel said. He took a step forward, entering Ethan’s personal space.
“You’re Ethan Hale,” Daniel announced, his voice carrying to every corner of the room. “CEO of Hale Investments. Majority shareholder of the Cobalt Group.”
