Ryan froze for a split second as the scene in front of him burned in his mind —the three drunken n towering over Zenith, her weak fra pinned against the couch, tears streaking her pale cheeks.
He didn’t need any more details to understand what was happening there —what those n were trying to do. And the very realization made sothing snap inside him.
The next second, the air in the room turned razor sharp. His fists clenched and his jaw tightened. His entire presence radiated lethal rage. Stepping inside, his voice thundered —low, clipped, and filled with such dangerous authority that even in their drunken stupor, the n faltered.
"Get. Away. From. Her."
Two of them instinctively stepped back, their smirks faltering. But the one holding Zenith down didn’t move. His hand still gripped her arms, his body poised to press against her.
"CEO Foster, it will be fun. Why don’t you join —"
Ryan didn’t let him finish. In a flash, he grabbed the man by his collar and yanked him off Zenith.
Before the drunk could register the motion, Ryan’s fist crashed into his jaw with brutal force, the crack echoing like a gunshot across the room.
The man flew sideways, collapsing against the table with a strangled groan.
The other two n exchanged glances before lunging forward, emboldened by the drink.
One of them tried and swung at Ryan, but before he could even touch his hair, Ryan caught his wrist mid-air, twisting it so violently that the man scread in agony. With one sharp shove, Ryan slamd him against the wall. His knuckles turned white as his grip dug into the man’s throat.
"You dared to lay your filthy hands on here?" Ryan growled, his voice like thunder. "You dared to think that you could do that while I stand by?"
"Sh-she is just a secretary, CEO Foster. We —" The man choked, his eyes bulging, until Ryan hurled him to the ground like a discarded trash.
"She isn’t just a secretary. She is my secretary. How dare you!"
The third man heard him and cursed before charging. But Ryan turned on him with predatory precision. His fist drove into his stomach, knocking the wind from him, before Ryan’s knees collided with his ribs.
The man crumpled, grasping and writing.
The three of them groaned on the floor —too dazed and battered to rise under the weight of Ryan’s glare.
He straightened, his breathing controlled and his voice cutting through the heavy silence like a blade. "Get out before I make sure none of you crawl out of here alive."
The n scrambled to their feet, trying to gather themselves and run. However, Ryan’s voice pierced again, stiffening them. "And hear clearly —if you ever so much as think of looking at her again, I will bury your companies, your nas, and your lives."
The threat was enough. Stumbling, the n scrambled out of the room. They no longer acted brave. If anything, they felt in that mont was the fear —fear of getting ruined with nothing left.
anwhile, back in the room, Ryan’s breathing was heavy. Even though his punches and kicks help him vent his anger, it doesn’t feel enough. He imdiately started regretting letting them escape alive.
They deserved to die —a brutal death after what they almost tried to do. But at the sa ti, self-bla started to creep inside him.
He should have let her be alone here. If only he had been with her, these n wouldn’t have even dared to think about her.
"Ahh—" Zenith’s whimper tore him out of his thoughts and turned to look back.
Seeing how flushed she looked, he couldn’t help but be worried. Walking towards her, he said softly. "Zenith," his voice shifting from thunder to velvet in an instant.
But even so, Zenith flinched at his voice.
The mont her blurred eyes found him, her body trembled harder. Even though she knew it was him, her lips quivered in fear, her mind still shackled with the vile words those n had thrown at her.
"No ... please ... don’t —" her broken whisper spilled out, her hands trying weakly to push him away as he bent down near her.
Ryan’s chest clenched when he saw the terror in her eyes —not just at those n, but the fear that he, too, might do sothing to her.
He gritted, realizing how much he hated her feeling so unsafe around him. He never thought it would ever affect him. But seeing her now avoiding him was making him feel a dagger twisting inside his chest.
He took a mont to calm himself and his incomprehensible emotions. And then, he slowly crouched low, lowering himself to her level, his hands hovering just inches away, refusing to touch without permission. His voice was steady, gentle, and almost pleading.
"It’s , Zenith. It’s Ryan. And you are safe now."
Her breathing hitched, and she opened her eyes, her gaze searching his face. His cold fury was gone now, replaced by raw concern.
"I won’t hurt you," he said firmly. "I will never hurt you. You are safe with ."
Slowly and cautiously, he reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek with his knuckles. She flinched again, but this ti, she didn’t pull away.
Seeing her trembling like a frightened bird gutted him. He had never felt such helpless rage at himself —for not being here sooner, for letting her face this alone.
"You are safe now," he whispered again.
Zenith heard him and leaned in to his touch, finding her solace. "I am feeling hot. Please ... please help ."
Ryan frowned. Her voice was so feeble and weak that if he hadn’t been sitting so close to her, he might have missed what she said. His brows tugged in a frown. "Feeling hot?" he repeated before pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. "But your skin is cold."
Zenith felt it getting more difficult. She twisted and writhed, fighting desperately against the urge that the drug in her system was stimulating. "I ... I ... I was drugged. Plea ... Please help . They ... have drugged ." As she said that, she reached for her shirt’s buttons, trying to undo them.
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