He had once sworn, "Anyone who touches a hair on your head, I'll destroy them."
Now he sat with a glass of wine, leaning toward the person beside him, murmuring something in low conversation. He didn't so much as glance in my direction.
"What are you waiting for? Strip her!"
Vivienne's voice cracked with impatience.
The guard grinned and reached for the hem of my dress.
"Hold on."
Howard rose and walked toward me, unhurried. The crowd parted for him without being asked.
He stopped in front of me. The polished toe of his shoe nudged a bloodied shard of glass out of the way.
"Howard, this thief stole my necklace." Vivienne's lips pressed into a thin, displeased line.
"You want every person in this city laughing at the Graves name?" Howard glanced at her, his voice flat and cold. "Does the family want their stock price to open tomorrow, or not?"
Vivienne's mouth opened, then closed.
"So we just... let her go?"
"Take her upstairs. My room."
Howard bent down, his face inches from mine.
"I'll handle the interrogation personally."
Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist, heedless of the glass still buried in my palm, and dragged me toward the elevator.