The Cross Family
Phones were raised higher, capturing every second.
Adrian’s chair of composure snapped.
His jaw clenched, his voice cutting through the din like thunder. “Enough.”
The crowd hushed instantly, as though some instinct told them not to cross this man. Adrian stepped forward, his sharp suit immaculate, his presence radiating authority. His eyes blazed as he stared down Damon and Sloane.
“She’s our sister,” Adrian said, each word measured and lethal. “Our blood sister. And now that she is where she belongs, as a Cross—and not just any Cross, but the Cross Heiress—you will treat her with respect.”