Chapter 9 - The Final Strike
Before I could even raise my hands to protect my face, Carter moved faster than humanly possible.
He closed the distance between the door and the bar in the blink of an eye.
Carter tackled Spencer brutally to the floor before the crystal glass could even graze my skin.
The heavy decanter flew out of Spencer's hand and shattered into a hundred jagged pieces across the carpet.
Spencer groaned in agony as Carter expertly pinned his arms behind his back with overwhelming force.
The commotion was loud enough that the federal agents rushed into the VIP lounge with their weapons drawn.
They hauled a bleeding, cursing Spencer up from the floor and locked heavy steel handcuffs tightly around his wrists.
I stood there breathing heavily, my heart racing wildly from the sudden burst of violence.
Carter quickly turned to me, his dark eyes filled with genuine, deep concern.
"Are you hurt, Phoebe?" he asked, gently touching my arm to steady my trembling body.
I shook my head, feeling a strange, comforting warmth spreading through my chest whenever I looked at him.
We walked back out into the bright lights of the main ballroom together.
Hotel security was currently physically dragging a screaming Paisley out the front doors.
She was cursing Spencer's name at the top of her lungs, completely humiliated in front of the city's elite.
My father walked over and hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe.
The nightmare of my abusive marriage was officially over, and the villain was finally being dragged away in chains.
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I looked out at the sea of wealthy guests, knowing they would never look down on me ever again.
But just as the room began to quiet down, a waiter handed my father a small, sealed black envelope.
