Chapter 3 - The Wolf Unleashed In Lower Manhattan
The café was dead silent. Every single person—from the barista hiding behind the espresso counter to the tourists filming on their phones—froze in terror.
Daniel’s lead security operative, Marcus, moved with practiced efficiency, stepping smoothly between the terrified crowd and the confrontation. Without a single word, Marcus raised his hand, and several phones recording the incident were instantly lowered under the sheer, chilling weight of his stare.
Kara collapsed forward against the marble table, coughing violently, her hands clutching her bruised throat as tears streamed down her cheeks. The velvet pouch containing her ultrasound photo lay half-spilled on the floor beside the broken ceramic shards.
She reached down, her fingers trembling uncontrollably, and snatched the ultrasound paper to her chest, shielding it as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.
"Daniel," she choked out, her voice raw and shredded. "Daniel, stop. Please. Not here."
Daniel didn't look back at her immediately. His eyes remained locked on Liam, whose boots were kicking frantically in the air, his face slick with cold sweat and snot.
"Look at her," Daniel commanded, his voice dropping an octave into something demonic. He pressed his forearm harder against Liam’s windpipe. "Look at what your filthy hands did to my wife."
"I... I didn't know!" Liam choked out, tears pooling in his bloodshot eyes. "She... she didn't say she was married! She’s just a—"
"She is everything," Daniel whispered.
With a sudden, violent twist, Daniel hurled Liam across the room. The smaller man crashed through a small wooden display rack filled with artisanal coffee bags, sending beans and glass jars scattering across the floor in a chaotic explosion of debris. Liam groaned, curling into a fetal position among the coffee beans, gasping for air like a fish out of water.
Daniel calmly adjusted the cuffs of his white dress shirt, stepping over a broken jar as if he were walking through a pristine garden. He crouched down beside Liam, grabbing a fistful of the stained jacket and hauling the whimpering man up until their faces were inches apart.
"Listen to me very carefully, Mr. Mercer," Daniel said, his tone conversational, almost polite, which made it ten times more terrifying. "You broke a restraining order. You assaulted a citizen in the state of New York. And, most importantly, you ruined my wife’s morning coffee."
"Please," Liam sobbed, trembling violently. "Please don't kill me."
"Kill you?" Daniel let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Killing you would be an act of mercy, Liam. You see, people who cross me don't disappear into federal prisons where they get three meals and a bed. They disappear into the shipping yards. They find themselves assigned to container ships bound for places where passports don't exist and debt is paid in heavy labor."
Liam’s eyes rolled back in sheer panic. "No... no, please! Take everything I have!"
"You don't have anything," Daniel said softly. "Not even your freedom anymore."
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He dropped Liam back onto the floor like a sack of garbage. Without sparing him another glance, Daniel stood up, turned on his heel, and walked straight toward Kara, who was still trembling beside the shattered table.
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