Chapter 839

Chapter 839:

A hand shot out from behind her—strong, deliberate—and seized Nathan’s wrist mid-motion. In one swift movement, it twisted sharply.

Crack.

“Ah!”

Nathan sucked in a breath, the charm draining from his face in an instant. His smile vanished, replaced by a grimace of pain.

Sadie turned, startled.

Noah?

He stood there like a shadow forged from steel—imposing, still. A cold, metallic mask covered most of his face, leaving only his eyes visible—dark, unreadable, and chillingly calm.

What was he doing here?

His gaze locked onto Nathan’s, his grip unmoving.

The air around him seemed to compress, heavy with silent authority.

“Mr. Higgins, before you lay a hand on someone, make sure you can see clearly,” he said flatly, his voice like winter steel. “And make sure you can handle what comes next.”

A single drop of sweat slid down Nathan’s temple.

Nathan looked up, a sharp chill creeping into his chest.

The rumors had circulated for years—of the elusive Patrick from Burgess Group,

a man who never revealed his face, always concealed behind a mask.

Ruthless. Calculated. Unshakable.

And now, standing before him, was a man who matched every whispered detail.

The aura Noah exuded was undeniable—too controlled, too cold, too dangerous to be dismissed.

Nathan forced a strained smile, sweat beginning to bead at his temple. He raised both hands slightly, as though to surrender.

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“Mr. Noel, it’s a misunderstanding,” he said lightly. “Just a harmless joke with Ms. Hudson, nothing more.”

He wasn’t about to challenge someone like this—not over ego. Not tonight.

Noah stared him down with thinly veiled disdain. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he let go—as if discarding something unworthy of his time.

He turned to Sadie, his attention shifting like a silent command.

Without warning, he took her wrist in his hand.

“Ms. Hudson, I need a word. In private,” he said coolly, his voice cutting through the murmurs around them.

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