Bound By A Broken Night novel Chapter 218

Chapter 218

+25 BONUS

Chapter 218

Ashton moved. No warning. No hesitation. His foot drove straight into Director Belsky.

“Urgh-!”

The impact sent the man reeling, his body crashing backward across the floor before he landed flat on his back, the air violently knocked out of his lungs.

Before the echo of the first blow could fade, Ashton turned

Another strike.

“Ugh-!” Director Lukin crumpled just as violently, his body folding from the force of the kick to his chest. He gasped, scrambling against the cold floor, his hands trembling as he tried-and failed to regain any sense of control.

There was no restraint in Ashton’s movements. No measured calculation..

Only fury.

–

“You two…” Ashton’s voice came low, almost quiet-but it carried a lethal edge that cut deeper than the blows themselves.

He took a step forward, looming over them like a shadow closing in.

“You’re the vermin slowly rotting the Petroys from the inside.”

Each word landed heavier than the last. The composed, unreadable man who had stood before the media moments ago was gone. What remained was something far more dangerous.

The restraint he had worn so effortlessly had shattered, revealing the truth beneath-a ruthless, unyielding force that no longer cared for appearances or pretense. His gaze burned cold and merciless, devoid of hesitation, devoid of doubt.

“Your delusion… to outsmart the Petrovs is almost impressive.”/

A slow smirk curved Ashton’s lips as he planted his foot firmly against Director Belsky’s chest.

“Argh-!”

A broken whimper escaped the man, his hands instinctively clutching at Ashton’s leg, as if he could pry it off. He couldn’t. The pressure only increased, deliberate and unyielding.

Ashton didn’t even look down at first. It was as if Belsky’s pain was beneath notice.

“How brave of you,” Ashton continued, his tone laced with quiet mockery, “to throw around Vasili Wright’s name for your own gain.” His gaze finally dropped, sharp and merciless.

“And even braver to drag the Petrovs into your little fantasy.”

He shifted slightly, grinding his heel just enough to draw another strained gasp from the man beneath him.

“Do you even understand,” Ashton went on, voice lowering into something colder, more dangerous, “what it means to invoke names like the Petrovs?”

He toyed with Director Belsky’s cheek, delivering slow, deliberate taps-firm enough to sting, measured enough to humiliate. “You don’t,” he murmured, his voice soft but edged with something far more dangerous than anger. “If you did… you wouldn’t be lying here.”

Belsky’s cheek had already flushed a deep, angry red beneath Ashton’s palm. His breathing turned ragged, uneven, each inhale catching as fear steadily replaced whatever resolve he once had. His lips parted, as it to plead, to explain–but no sound came.

The words died before they could form. Silenced not by force -but by the crushing weight of Ashton’s presence looming over

Chapter 218

+25 BONUS

him.

The tension had barely settled when-the doors burst open.

A new group strode in without hesitation, their presence bold and entirely unconcerned

“Ashton Pierce,” a woman’s voice rang out, smooth and amused, “you didn’t even wait for us to join the fun.”

All eyes shifted.

Ashton straightened, and turned toward the newcomers, a faint smile tugging at his lips-laced with unmistakable sarcasm.

“Lia,” he greeted, voice light but deliberate. “Always punctual when there’s trouble. Nice to see you too.”

Lia-grinned, unfazed by his tone.

“You wound me, Ashton Pierce. I thought you’d miss me.”

She didn’t slow her stride, walking past him as if she owned the room. Without pause, she went straight to Vasili and leaned in, placing a casual peck on his cheek.

Cassie, standing off to the side, could only watch.

2

The sudden intrusion had thrown her off balance, her gaze moving from one face to another as recognition settled in. She didn’t need introductions.

“So,” another voice chimed in.

Cassie’s attention shifted.

A second woman entered, draped comfortably in Samuel Petrov’s arm, her posture relaxed yet commanding in its own right. There was something in the way she observed the room-sharp, assessing-that made Cassie’s brows draw together slightly.

“What do we have here?” she asked, her tone curious, but edged with quiet amusement.

Ashton glanced back at the two men sprawled on the floor, their earlier composure now completely gone. Fear lingered plainly in their eyes.

“Director Belsky and Director Lukin,” Ashton began casually, as though discussing something trivial, “claim they were coerced by a man who calls himself Hawk.”

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