{Noah}
"Good evening, Mr Blackwood." The doorman greeted with a smile.
I wanted to correct him—Claire, not Blackwood—but I sighed to myself, "Why bother?" It didn't really matter; I would be out of San Francisco in the next forty-eight hours anyway. Business would call me back to London, then to Milan, and eventually, this town and its small catastrophes would settle like dust behind me.
The doorman held the door open and bowed before asking if I'd like him to show me the way to the dining room. I said yes because it was easier than dismissing him, and left to me, I would end up anywhere but the room where my family was gathered.
We walked through the halls, and it didn't take long for the sound of voices to reach my ears. We finally emerged into the dining room just as Curtis yanked on a sleeve and shoved someone backward.
In that small moment, the light found her, and I took in her appearance. Her dark hair fell over her slender shoulders onto the daring red dress she had on. Her face was pale and devoid of emotion, but even in that state, I couldn't take my eyes off her.
A woman I didn't recognize right away was berating her, outrightly telling Thea, plainly and loudly, that she didn't belong here. Thea snapped back, practically calling her a whore.
I caught the fury in the woman's eyes, and as expected, she raised her hand to slap Thea.
"That's enough." My hand grabbed her wrist before the slap landed, and suddenly, every pair of eyes in the room narrowed in my direction.
The woman looked up as if she'd been slapped herself, but from the haughty look on her face, she clearly had no idea who I was. There was no recognition in her eyes, only annoyance, that someone had interrupted her little performance.
"Let go of me. Who the hell are you?" the woman growled, trying to yank her wrist out of my grip but failing miserably.
I casually let go of her hand and adjusted my cuffs as I answered her question, "Noah Blackwood," I said, looking her dead in the eyes. "And I believe the correct question is, who are you?"
Fear gripped her almost immediately, and I watched as her mouth opened and closed until she recovered some of her composure.
"Uncle Noah," Curtis said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Glad you could make it."
I grunted in acknowledgment. "Is this how you treat your wife?" I asked.
Curtis's smile thinned to a strip of contempt. "She isn't my wife anymore," he said, as a cruel smile found its way to his lips. "And I'm engaged." He reached out and pulled the woman at his side into him while she flashed the diamond on her finger with a grin.
My eyes flickered from the ring, then back to Thea. She looked…small, sunken, and utterly defeated, in a way that made something inside me want to say fuck it and give her a hug. I had no business protecting anyone. My life was rules and returns, contracts and margins. Definitely not rescue missions.
Yet I couldn't help it, "How are you?" I asked, deliberately low so only she and the people immediately around her heard.
Micah stirred in the corner of my vision—no, not Micah, Michael.
"Noah," he barked, too loudly, "this is hardly the time to dwell on that girl. Congratulations are in order. Don't waste it on… that—" He gestured to Thea with disdain.
My mouth curled without permission. "Congratulations to you both," I said to Curtis and the woman. "But if you'll excuse me, I just remembered that I have somewhere I must be."
I meant it and didn't mean it. The truth was, I wanted to see what he would do to her. I gave my father and mother a curt nod, bidding them goodnight, and turned to leave. I had barely walked past the doors when I heard a pained whine behind me.
Curtis grabbed Thea by the arm, squeezing her until her snow-white skin began to bruise, turning faintly red.
I immediately grabbed Curtis by the shoulder, and shoved him, making him stumble backward into his father's arms.
"Respect the fact that I'm still in the room before you lay your hands on a woman," I said coldly, without raising my voice.
"She's no woman. She's nothing but a fucking beggar," Curtis spat the words out like the little arrogant brat he was. "And who do you think you are, ordering me about in my own house?"
I looked at him the way I would look at a mispriced spreadsheet. "Careful, nephew. Keep talking like that and I'll spend the next week making every contract you ever signed look fraudulent, every bank call you ignored look deliberate, and I'll introduce your name to people who enjoy finishing what you started."
There was a pause long enough to let him recalculate, as he considered the scale of my words.
"You're lucky I'm family," I said.
Then I did something that surprised even the spontaneous part of me; I offered my arm to her. "Come with me. You don't need to stay."
Humiliation and hope flashed across her face. She looked at Curtis, then at the room full of faces folded into gossip and pleasure, before returning her gaze to me.
"Thank you," she mouthed, taking my arm, and we walked out of the house to where my car was parked in the driveway.
"Now that that's dealt with," I sighed, slowing to a stop and glancing down at her. "Maybe you can tell me what's really going on."