No Fortune Can Buy His Mercy

Chapter 003

Chloe Sinclair held a position of considerable influence in Cresthaven, owing entirely to her status as Vivian Sterling's cousin. On any given night, the city's self-proclaimed elite would trip over themselves for a chance to ingratiate themselves with her, men who would have gladly kissed her feet if she so much as glanced in their direction.

And yet, here she was, rebuffed without ceremony by a man who had the audacity to tell her she smelled bad. The humiliation burned through her like acid, a mixture of rage and shame that made her feel as though she had swallowed something rotten.

Preston Montgomery was one of Chloe's many admirers. Long before Vivian Sterling's meteoric rise to power, the Montgomery family had already positioned themselves as loyal supporters of the Sterling cause. Preston's pursuit of Chloe was no simple infatuation but a calculated strategy. If he could secure her affections, the bond between the Montgomery family and the Sterling family would become unbreakable.

When people spoke of the three untouchable powers in Cresthaven, the Sterling family always came first, and trailing close behind, solidly entrenched in that second position, was the Montgomery family. The Montgomerys had played a critical role in Vivian Sterling's takedown of Arthur Vance, leveraging their far-reaching connections and orchestrating a campaign of destruction that brought him to his knees. Their roots in Cresthaven ran deep, and their eyes and ears were everywhere. Those who crossed them rarely enjoyed pleasant endings.

Elias Vance felt the cloying perfume finally dissipate from around him, and only then did he set down his champagne glass. His gaze drifted across the crowded ballroom, scanning methodically for Vivian Sterling.

"Hey, you little bastard. Didn't you hear what Daddy just said to you?" Preston Montgomery stepped forward aggressively, his voice sharp with anger.

Elias didn't bother turning around. He continued surveying the crowd, a cold amusement flickering somewhere behind his calm expression. The Sterling family certainly knew how to stage an entrance. The ballroom was already packed with guests, yet the birthday celebrant, Reginald Sterling, had not appeared, and neither had Vivian Sterling. They were saving themselves for a grand reveal.

Elias reached casually for a glass of red wine, brought it to his lips, and took a slow, unhurried sip. Every movement carried an effortless elegance.

Murmurs rippled through the nearby guests. "Who the hell is that guy? He's ignoring the Montgomery heir and Miss Sterling's own cousin like they don't exist."

"Probably some nobody putting on airs. Wait until Miss Sterling comes out. He'll be on his knees licking her boots like the rest of them."

"Typical attention seeker. Doesn't he realize who he just offended? The man has got a death wish."

Chloe's pretty face darkened with cold fury. "Countless men beg for a single dinner with me and can't get one," she said icily. "And you have the nerve to put on this little performance and then insult me to my face? Fine." Her gaze cut to Preston. "Preston, you've been chasing me for months, so here's your chance. Deal with this nobody, and I'll consider going on a proper date with you."

Preston's anger transformed instantly into elation. He turned toward Elias with a wolfish grin. "Well, well, well. You little bastard, Daddy actually owes you one. If you hadn't run your mouth, I never would have gotten this opportunity. So as a thank you, I'll be generous. I'll let you keep your miserable life, as long as you don't mind losing the use of both hands."

Elias set down his wine glass and stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his attention remaining elsewhere entirely. Not a single word from Preston or Chloe had registered on his face.

"I've dealt with posers like you more times than I can count," Preston sneered. "So what's it going to be? Break your own hands, or do I have to do it for you?"

"Are you mentally deficient?" Elias finally turned his head, a slight frown creasing his brow at the volume of Preston's theatrics. The question came out flat and genuinely curious.

The entire section of the ballroom seemed to hold its breath.

Preston himself stood frozen for a beat, stunned into silence. Then a bark of laughter escaped him, loud and incredulous. "Good, very good. You've successfully pissed me off. I take back what I said. It's not just your hands anymore. I want your legs too. I'm going to make sure you spend the rest of your pathetic life lying in a bed."

Elias's expression remained utterly blank. In his life, the list of people who had wanted him dead or crippled was longer than most novels. Warlords from the Golden Triangle, Mexican cartel lords, mafia bosses from half a dozen continents, even heads of state had put prices on his head at one point or another. And yet here he stood, without so much as a scratch.

He had heard enough of Preston's noise, so Elias turned and began walking away.

Preston lunged forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous hiss. "Running scared now? Get on your knees."

Elias paused, his brow creasing slightly, and his hand came around in a casual, almost dismissive backswing. The crack of the slap echoed through the immediate vicinity like a gunshot. Preston staggered sideways, stars exploding across his vision, his feet scrambling for purchase on the polished floor as he nearly flew off his feet.

"You hit me?!" Preston's face contorted with disbelief and fury as he lunged toward Elias.

But his charge met something immovable. Gideon had materialized between them, standing like a monolith of controlled violence. His voice carried no heat, only the cold certainty of a man delivering facts. "Trash like you doesn't get to bother Marshal Vance. You don't even have the right to speak to him."

"That's hilarious," Preston snarled. "Everyone in this city, from top to bottom, knows the Montgomery name. Nobody talks to me like that except Miss Sterling herself. And you, you're nothing but a guard dog." He jabbed a finger at the glittering ballroom. "Do you even know where you are? A lapdog blocking my path is signing his own death warrant. Go back and slap your own master ten times across the face, and I might consider forgiving you."

Gideon said nothing, simply standing there as an immovable barrier of muscle and killing intent.

Preston was not someone who backed down easily. Interpreting Gideon's silence as fear, he wound up a full-armed slap aimed directly at Gideon's face.

The crack that followed was not palm meeting cheek. It was bone giving way. Halfway through his swing, Preston's leg buckled beneath him with a sickening snap, and he collapsed to one knee on the marble floor. A shriek tore from his throat, raw and animal, as agony shot through his entire body and cold sweat erupted across his forehead.

"You son of a bitch," he gasped through the pain. "You dare put hands on me? Do you have any idea what the Montgomery family is in this city?"

The surrounding guests drew in a collective breath, and Chloe's face went paper-white. She had expected that once Preston invoked the Montgomery name, this stranger would crumble and beg for mercy. She had not anticipated the black-clad giant beside him, a man whose combat skills were clearly extraordinary and who treated the Montgomery name as though it meant nothing at all.

"This guy is insane. He just shattered Preston Montgomery's kneecap. Does he think this is his living room?"

"I guarantee both of them are dead within two hours. The Montgomery family will have them buried."

Preston screamed, "I will wipe out every last one of your entire family!"

"I'll be waiting," Elias said. He had turned his head just slightly, took a calm sip of wine, and delivered the words with the same emotional investment one might give to commenting on the weather.

Another sickening crack followed. Gideon's right foot came down with precision, and Preston's other knee shattered beneath it. The heir to the Montgomery fortune screamed again, both knees now destroyed, his body collapsing forward into a full kneel. And there before him, utterly indifferent to his suffering, stood the towering silhouette of Elias Vance's back.

"Holy shit," someone blurted, unable to contain themselves. "His man just crippled both of Preston Montgomery's legs. And this is Old Man Sterling's birthday banquet. They're spitting in the Sterling family's face."

Preston was on the verge of passing out from the pain. The bravado had drained out of him completely.

Chloe rushed forward a step, her voice high and sharp. "Enough! I don't care who you are. Causing this kind of scene at my uncle's birthday celebration is unforgivable. You've made yourselves enemies of the Sterling family. You're digging your own graves."

Elias caught another wave of that nauseating perfume drifting toward him and turned with a cold glare. "What did I say earlier? Did you not hear me?"

"What?" Chloe blinked, momentarily stunned.

"I said your perfume reeks," Elias said flatly. "So stay away from me."

Chloe looked as though she might combust on the spot. "I am the cousin of Vivian Sterling, the most powerful woman in Cresthaven," she snapped, her voice trembling with fury. "How dare you say I smell?"

She surged forward, nails reaching for Elias's face.

"I'd suggest you take his words seriously," Gideon said without a trace of hesitation. "Otherwise, I have no problem putting you on your knees like your friend over there."

His open palm connected with her cheek before she could close the distance, a measured slap that sent her stumbling back two full steps, her head ringing.

"These two are absolutely finished. They won't even make it out the hotel doors alive."

"They crippled the Montgomery heir and now they've struck Miss Sinclair? Don't they know she's the one person Miss Sterling adores most?"

The crowd expected the situation to resolve itself quickly, but they were wrong. What happened next shattered their expectations entirely.

The Sterling family's people finally appeared. The first to emerge was Julian Sterling, Vivian Sterling's younger brother, the young man known throughout the city as Cresthaven's golden boy.

The moment Preston spotted him, relief and desperation flooded his pain-twisted face. "Julian!" he screamed. "Get your people over here! This son of a bitch and his attack dog are causing chaos at your grandfather's banquet! You can't let them get away with this!"

Elias glanced down at Preston with cold indifference, then spoke in a tone that carried across the stunned ballroom like a verdict being handed down.

"Since you insist on making a spectacle of yourself, I'll grant your wish. Listen carefully, the Montgomery family. You have until three o'clock tomorrow afternoon to bring this heir of yours and kneel at my doorstep to apologize." He paused, letting the silence sharpen his next words into a blade. "Otherwise, I will wipe out every last one of them."

A chill ran through the assembled guests like ice water down their spines. The Sterling family's representative was standing right there, and this man still spoke as though he answered to no one. That kind of fearlessness wasn't insanity but the confidence of someone with real power behind him.

Preston's face twisted into something ugly, but pinned to the floor by his ruined knees, he could do nothing but kneel in impotent silence.

Chloe turned to Julian, her voice pitched with outrage. "You heard them! Do you see how insane these two are?"

Elias turned his head slowly and fixed his gaze on Julian Sterling. "You're a Sterling?"

"Who are you?" Julian demanded as he strode forward, his voice carrying the imperious authority of someone accustomed to never being questioned. "Coming to my father's banquet and causing this kind of disturbance, do you think the Sterling family means nothing?"

Elias regarded him with perfect calm. "I assumed you would remember my voice."

Julian stopped mid-stride as though he had walked into a wall. Recognition dawned across his features, followed immediately by something that looked like shock.

"It's you."