Page 46 of The Marriage Compromise

The naked calculation in her eyes was replaced by something I'd never seen directed at me before—respect tinged with fear. In one moment, I had transformed from expendable son to valuable connection in her eyes.

It made me sick.

Brad wasn't as quick to accept defeat. With a roar of anger, he lunged up from the floor, charging at Kyue like a bull seeing red. Kyue simply sidestepped, his movement so fluid it almost lookedchoreographed, and Brad's momentum carried him straight into a nearby table. The crash of dishes and startled cries of other patrons created a fresh wave of chaos.

"You broke my fucking arm!" Brad shouted, struggling to his feet again.

"Technically, I dislocated it," Kyue corrected calmly. "If I'd broken it, you wouldn't be using it to try to attack me again."

I stood frozen, watching this stranger defend me with an ease that spoke of years of training. My family, who should have protected me, had sold me to a predator, while this man—someone I'd never met until today—was risking himself to keep me safe.

Because Julian had sent him.

The thought warmed something inside me, a feeling of security I'd never experienced with my biological family.

Two cafe security guards were making their way toward our table now, stern expressions suggesting they weren't pleased with the disruption. My father had helped Brad to his feet, while my mother was gathering her things, her eyes still fixed on me with that new calculating look.

Kyue placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, the touch careful and non-threatening after what I'd just experienced with Brad.

"We should go," he suggested, nodding toward the approaching security. "Julian's waiting, and I'd rather not explain to him why I had to bail you out of trouble with cafe security."

I nodded, still slightly dazed by how quickly everything had happened. As Kyue guided me toward the exit, I heard my mother call after me.

"Connor! Wait! We need to talk about your new... situation."

I didn't even bother looking back. There was nothing more to say to the people who had seen me as nothing but a commodityto be traded when convenient. Instead, I walked beside Kyue toward the door, toward freedom, toward Julian.

Toward home.

Outside the cafe, the bright afternoon sun hit my eyes, momentarily blinding me after the dimmer interior. Kyue moved with purpose toward a gleaming red motorcycle parked at the curb—the kind of machine that screamed both danger and freedom.

My heart was still pounding from the confrontation inside, my arm aching where Brad had grabbed me, but there was also a strange, buoyant feeling in my chest.

For the first time in my life, someone had actually stood up for me against my family. Someone had been there exactly when I needed them, sent by the one person who had shown me what protection actually felt like.

"Julian's worried sick," Kyue said, reaching the motorcycle and swinging a leg over it with practiced ease. He pulled a sleek black helmet from the back compartment and handed it to me. "He was ready to come himself until Jake convinced him it would draw too much attention."

I took the helmet, trying to imagine Julian storming into the cafe in his wheelchair, facing down my family with that cold fury I'd glimpsed in his eyes. The image was both terrifying and oddly comforting.

"Thanks for stepping in back there," I said, awkwardly holding the helmet. "With my brother."

Kyue shrugged, the leather of his jacket creaking with the movement. "Your brother's an amateur who watches too many action movies. Next time he tries to twist someone's arm, he should make sure they don't know Muay Thai." He nodded to the helmet in my hands. "Put that on. We need to move."

I slipped the helmet over my head, the world instantly becoming more muffled and confined. Kyue was already startingthe engine, the powerful rumble vibrating through the sidewalk beneath my feet.

"Ever been on a motorcycle?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the engine.

I shook my head, suddenly nervous. "First time for everything?"

He laughed, the sound surprisingly warm. "Hold on tight. Julian will kill me if I deliver you with so much as a scratch."

I climbed on behind him, awkwardly wrapping my arms around his waist. The motorcycle lurched forward, and I tightened my grip with an undignified yelp that I was glad no one could hear through the helmet.

We pulled into traffic, the world blurring around us as Kyue accelerated with confidence. I'd never moved through the city like this before—no metal cage surrounding me, nothing between my body and the rushing air except leather and denim.

It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

We were about three blocks from the cafe, waiting at a red light, when I glanced back and my blood ran cold. Two black sedans with tinted windows had pulled out from a side street and were positioning themselves behind us in traffic. Even through the helmet, I could see the driver of the closest one speaking into what looked like a radio.