"Actually," Noah called out, "I think this conversation is just getting started."
I turned slowly to face the approaching group. Noah and Felicity walked with newfound confidence, flanked by four men who moved with the disciplined gait of trained fighters. These weren't the usual hired muscle I'd grown accustomed to dealing with in New York City.
"Noah," Chloe said, stepping slightly behind me, "what do you think you're doing?"
"What I should have done the moment this country bumpkin embarrassed me in there," Noah replied, his earlier shock replaced by cold determination. "Nobody makes a fool of the Grant family and walks away."
The men beside him spread out in a loose semicircle, blocking our path to Chloe's car. In the dim parking lot lighting, I could see they all wore matching dark training uniforms with emblems embroidered on their chests.
