Chapter 18: A Flash of Territorial Rage

[ DAVID'S POV ]

The conversation with the investors was a complete waste of my time. They kept droning on and on about quarterly numbers, shifting margins, and international logistics, but I couldn't focus on a single word coming out of their mouths. My attention was completely pulled away from the business talk, my eyes instinctively cutting across the crowded ballroom every few seconds, checking the far corner by the champagne fountain.

Checking on Samantha.

Leaving her alone by the fountain had been a calculated choice for the cameras, a way to let the press see her acting natural, but the second I pulled my hand away from her waist, I felt a strange, lingering irritation. Even as I stood surrounded by the city's top financial minds, my eyes kept tracking back to her through the small gaps in the moving crowd. I watched her pull a crystal flute from a silver tray, her small, tight movements telling me exactly how hard she was working to maintain that perfect, adoring smile for the cameras.

Then, the crowd shifted, and I saw him.

My chest went instantly tight, a sudden, violent wave of raw fury hitting me right in the gut.

Julian Vance.

He was standing right in front of her, leaning his hip casually against the marble rim of the multi-tiered champagne fountain. He didn't look like a casual guest at a high-end gala; he looked like a predator that had been waiting patiently in the dark for the exact second I got distracted. His messy dark hair fell perfectly into his eyes, and he had that same arrogant, cocky smirk plastered across his face that I had despised for years. He was stepping right into Samantha’s personal space, using his tall, broad frame to cut her off from the rest of the room, effectively trapping her against the glass rim. As I watched, Julian bent down, his head tilting as he whispered something directly into her ear.

Pure rage blacked out everything else in the room. The investors were still talking, but their voices turned into complete static, fading into a distant, meaningless hum. The polite, calculated mask I had worn all evening completely shattered. All I could see, all I could focus on, was Julian’s cocky smirk and his grey eyes locked onto my wife, invading a space he had absolutely no right to be near. The realization that he was trying to touch what was mine made my blood turn to liquid fire.

I didn't say a word to the men around me. I didn't excuse myself, and I didn't wait for them to finish their sentences. I just turned on my heel and stormed across the room, my jaw clamped so tight it ached.

I cut a straight, heavy path through the crowded ballroom, moving with a dark, single-minded focus. The sea of elite guests, dressed in their expensive designer gowns and tailored tuxedos, took one look at my face and quickly scrambled out of my way, parting like water before a storm. I could feel the sudden, heavy shift in the room's energy, the wave of pure anger rolling off my shoulders as I moved. The flashing lights of the media bloggers and the cameras clicked rapidly from the edges of the floor, capturing my sudden movement, but I didn't care about the press anymore. I didn't care about the cameras, the bloggers, or the massive scene I was making in front of the city's high society. The only thing that mattered was removing him from her sight.

I reached the fountain in seconds. Before Julian could even fully register I was there or turn his head, I reached out and grabbed Samantha’s wrist.

I didn't hesitate, and I didn't use a gentle touch. I pulled her away from him, dragging her flush against my side with a harsh, sudden tug that made the champagne glasses nearby rattle loudly on the silver trays. The violent motion caught her completely off guard, her small gasp cutting through the air as the remaining champagne in her glass sloshed over the rim. I squeezed her wrist just tight enough to let her know she was anchored, refusing to let a single inch of space form between her body and mine.

I stepped directly between them, using my broad shoulders to form a solid, impenetrable wall that completely blocked her from his sight. I stared straight into Julian’s grey eyes, my face completely cold, deadpan, and expressionless, but my heart was hammering against my ribs with a violent, dangerous heat.

"Stay away from what belongs to me," I said, my voice dropping into a low, lethal whisper that cut right through the loud music and the noise of the party.

Julian didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He slowly lowered his gaze, looking down at my white-knuckle grip clamped tightly around Samantha's wrist, analyzing the raw force I was using to hold her against my side. A heavy, suffocating silence stretched between us, the air growing thick enough to choke on. Then, slowly, Julian raised his eyes back to mine.

The cocky smirk on his face didn't fade; it grew wider, turning into a look of pure, dark amusement. He didn't look threatened at all by my sudden arrival or the venom dripping from my words. In fact, his eyes lit up with a spark of victory, showing me that this public, aggressive reaction was exactly what he had been trying to provoke from the moment he stepped near her. He took a slow, casual sip of his drink, his eyes flashing with a dark amusement that told me this was exactly the reaction he wanted.

Julian leaned back slightly against the marble fountain, tilting his head as he gave Samantha a lingering, knowing look past the edge of my shoulder, completely ignoring my attempt to block her out.

"Are you sure she belongs to you, David?" Julian murmured back, his voice smooth, velvety, and entirely too calm for the tension building between us. He set his glass down on the stone edge, his grey eyes flashing with a ruthless, mocking light as he prepared to step back into the crowd. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like your little bird is already looking for a way out of the cage. And I'm more than happy to leave the door wide open."