Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 251

Chapter 251

Noah

We navigated the club’s crowded interior like actors performing a carefully scripted scene, exchanging courteous nods and gentle smiles, pretending that the world beyond the glass walls held no trace of the fear gnawing at me. The air was thick with murmurs and clinking glasses, but to me, it all felt distant, like background noise fading into a dull hum.

William’s hand rested lightly yet possessively at the small of my back, grounding me even as my legs threatened to give way beneath me. My heart pounded unevenly, and the once vibrant buzz of the dining room seemed to dissolve into silence.

By the time we reached the security checkpoint, two club employees had already restrained the man I dreaded the most. I recognized his voice before I saw him—my father’s, loud and sprawling, booming with the reckless confidence of someone who believes he has nothing left to lose. “There he is! That’s my son! You won’t keep him from me! Tell them who I am—tell them I’m his father!”

The guards held him firmly at the entrance, and William didn’t allow them to release their grip. He stepped forward, his tone polite but icy, almost clinical. “Mr. Blake?”

My father’s sneer deepened when he caught sight of William, as if the mere presence of this man diminished him somehow. “I’m not looking for trouble, sir. I’m here for my boy.” He attempted to push forward, but the club staff were efficient and unyielding. The guards kept him at bay until William gave a subtle signal, his composure unshaken.

“Would you please come with us to the side office?” William’s voice was calm and courteous, but the sharp edge beneath it left no room for refusal.

Within moments, we were inside a sleek, private room—two of William’s men stationed at the door—before my father could launch into his rehearsed pleasantries. The click of the lock behind us sounded like a final judgment.

My stomach clenched painfully. The room seemed to close in around me, my breath the only sound I could hear. My hands twitched, desperate to hold themselves together. My father circled, insinuating, attempting to turn whatever scraps of power he had into leverage. A cold wave of panic crept through me.

William’s jaw tightened, his patience snapping. He didn’t allow my father to continue. In two quick strides, he shoved him against the far wall, the movement sharp and deliberate—a clear warning. “If a single word of that leaves this room,” William said, every syllable coiled with deadly intent, “you’re a dead man.”

My father’s jaw clenched, and though he tried to laugh it off—attempting to make it sound like a joke—his voice was thin and strained. “You think you can silence me?”

William took a measured step back, pulled a check from his inner pocket, and extended it flat on his palm, his expression unreadable. “This is my one-time offer. Take it, leave, and don’t come near my family again. Next time, there won’t be an offer.”