The silence stretched taut as Preston Vance stared at the carnage surrounding him. Ten professional bodyguards lay scattered across the expensive restaurant floor like broken dolls. His face had drained of all color.
"This isn't over," he whispered, his voice trembling with rage and humiliation. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."
Phoebe tilted her head, genuinely curious. "Actually, I think I have a pretty good idea. You're a spoiled rich boy who's never faced real consequences."
"The Vance family has power you can't imagine," Preston snarled, some of his arrogance returning. "We have connections throughout this city. Political allies. Business partners. People who owe us favors."
"Fascinating," Phoebe replied cheerfully. "Are any of them here right now?"
Preston's jaw clenched. His friends had retreated to a safe distance, clearly wanting nothing to do with the situation. The other restaurant patrons watched in horrified fascination.
