Author's POV
Gabriel Eros Smith Sy and Anthony Lloyd Smith Yee did not need to stand for the entire hall to feel exactly who the men were that no one should ever cross.
In Asia and Europe, Gabriel was the kind of name spoken only when the doors were securely closed. In North and South America, Anthony was the kind of silence that could end in a funeral if luck was not on your side. They were cousins. Equally cold. Equally ruthless. And that night, the two of them were simply seated inside a lavish party in Spain, like men who had no intention of rising for anyone.
And the truth was, they never did.
Not far away stood Georgia Elizabeth Smith Sy.
Gia.
She held the stem of her champagne glass as she watched the world of old money, expensive smiles, and filthy intentions spin around her beneath crystal lights and classical music. At first glance, her black dress looked simple, but it was enough to make her seem more dangerous than any other woman in the room.
Gia was beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful.
But that was not the reason people avoided her.
The reason was the silence that came with her long before she ever caused trouble.
From where he sat, Gabriel glanced once in Gia's direction before lowering his eyes back to the glass in his hand. To everyone else, it meant nothing. Just one cold look from an older brother already used to leaving his younger sister alone.
And they were right.
Gabriel never interfered with Gia in public. First, because she could handle herself. Second, because she never listened to him anyway.
But Gia knew exactly what one look from her brother meant.
So when Anthony's eyes shifted in the same direction, she immediately followed their gaze.
Near the service entrance of the hall stood two elderly people.
An old man and an old woman. Both of them looked worn down by life itself. The man's coat was old and too thin for the cold night. The woman clutched a faded bag as if it was the last thing she had left in the world. They did not belong in a place like this. And that was exactly why they were easy targets for people who liked preying on the weak.
Standing in front of them was Mateo de Villena.
Spoiled. Arrogant. Violent. And far too confident because he knew his surname would always catch him when he fell.
The old man was saying something, probably begging. Maybe for food. Maybe for water. Maybe just for a little mercy.
But Mateo only smirked and shoved him by the shoulder.
The old man stumbled backward.
His wife quickly moved to steady him, but before they could regain their balance, Mateo grabbed the old woman by the sleeve and roughly threw her aside.
Gia winced.
And it did not stop there.
Mateo punched the old man in the side. When the man dropped to his knees, Mateo slapped him on top of it.
A few people saw.
No one moved.
Something cold shattered inside Gia.
Quietly, she set her champagne glass on the tray of a passing waiter.
Gabriel and Anthony did not move.
They only watched from where they sat. They did not stand. They did not walk over. They did not call her name. And in that kind of silence, the meaning was clearer than any warning.
She could handle it.
Gia walked toward the commotion.
Not fast. Not rushed.
But with every step she took, people moved aside on instinct. Some because they recognized her. Others because they could feel a scene coming that they wanted no part in.
She stopped in front of Mateo.
Gia looked first at the two elderly people. The man was on the floor, clutching his side, while the woman looked ready to cry from fear and humiliation.
Then she slowly lifted her eyes to Mateo.
"What's your problem?" she asked coldly.
One of Mateo's brows rose as he gave her a mocking look. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
He scoffed. "This doesn't concern you."
Gia tilted her head. "You hit an old man in front of me. Now it does."
Mateo smirked. "They don't belong here."
"And you do?"
"More than they ever will."
Gia did not smile.
"What a pathetic thing to say."
Mateo gave a dry laugh. "Careful, Georgia."
"Or what?"
His eyes darkened. "Or you'll regret making a scene."
That was when the corner of Gia's mouth lifted just slightly.
"Too late."
In the very next second, her fist landed straight against Mateo's face.
His head snapped to the side from the force of the punch. Before he could recover, she followed it with another blow to his stomach. Mateo doubled over, and Gia immediately grabbed him by the collar and struck his jaw again.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
One after another.
No hesitation. No restraint.
Shouts rang through the hall. A glass slipped from someone's hand. A few women stumbled back. But Gia looked like she heard none of it.
She was not dodging now.
She was not holding back.
She had not run away yet. She had no reason to hide how vicious she could be.
She punched Mateo in the nose again. Blood poured instantly. She drove her knee into his stomach, shoved him backward, and hit him across the face once more.
"You like hitting people weaker than you?" she spat. "Try me."
Mateo tried to block her, but his movements were already sloppy. He had no chance. With every punch Gia landed, more of the arrogance on his face shattered.
From where they sat, Gabriel and Anthony simply watched.
Gabriel leaned back slightly, one hand resting on the arm of his chair, his face unreadable. Anthony slowly swirled the drink in his hand, silent as ever, as if this were just another ordinary night.
But around the hall, the men who were never really guests began to move.
Smith bodyguards.
More than twenty of them.
They were not obvious at first glance, but now that they were stepping out from different corners of the venue, people finally understood just how many shadows followed that family wherever they went.
Up front, Mateo staggered backward, nose bleeding, lip split, barely able to keep himself upright. He was breathing hard as he stared at Gia like he still could not believe a woman had beaten him in front of the entire hall.
"You crazy bitch," he panted.
Gia grinned at him. "That's the best you've got?"
Before she could close the distance again, two of Mateo's bodyguards quickly stepped between them.
In a single instant, both guns were pointed at Gia.
A collective gasp spread through the room.
Some people covered their mouths. Others backed away completely.
And for one brief second, Mateo smirked as if his pride was about to return.
But that smirk died just as quickly.
Because behind his two armed bodyguards, more than twenty Smith bodyguards quietly rose to their feet.
The whole hall seemed to grow heavier at once.
Gia did not move.
She did not back down either.
The truth was, she could take down those two men even without help. It was written all over her eyes. She knew it. She felt it. And if she wanted to, before either of them could even take a second breath, they would already be on the floor.
She only stopped when she noticed her own bodyguards approaching from the crowd.
Not because she was afraid.
But because the scene had been enough.
Gia slowly looked at the two guns pointed at her, then raised her eyes to Mateo.
"You need guns now?" she asked, her voice flat. "That's embarrassing."
No one answered.
It was only then that Gabriel spoke from where he sat.
He did not stand. He did not approach. He did not raise his voice.
But the moment his cold voice fell across the hall, it felt as if the air itself stopped moving.
"Lower them."
That was all.
Two words.
But with the weight in his voice, it was not an order anyone could think twice about.
Beside him, Anthony set his glass down and looked toward the scene. His face remained calm, but his eyes were enough to make anyone holding a gun understand that they had chosen the wrong night to be reckless.
"Now," Anthony added, his voice low.
The two bodyguards swallowed hard.
Slowly, they lowered their weapons.
Mateo's smirk disappeared completely.
Gia looked at him as though he was no longer worth anything. Then she turned away from him and walked to the elderly couple.
Only then did her face change.
Not completely soft.
But the anger eased.
"Can you stand?" she asked the old man, this time in Tagalog.
The old man looked surprised, but he nodded slightly. "Y yes."
She helped him to his feet. The old woman trembled, still clutching her bag as though she feared even that might be taken from her.
"Do not be afraid," Gia told her. "They will not do anything anymore."
The old woman's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you so much, hija."
Gia glanced at the old man's reddened cheek and the way he held his side. "Does anything else hurt?"
"Just a little," he forced out, even though it was obvious the pain was far from little.
Gia looked at a waiter who seemed frozen in fear. "Water. Food. And call someone who knows how to treat injuries."
"Y yes, ma'am."
"Now."
The waiter ran at once.
Gia did not look back at Mateo.
She did not have to.
Because in the silence that settled over the hall, everyone already understood one thing.
Yes, Gabriel and Anthony were terrifying.
But if you hurt a poor person or an old person in front of Georgia Elizabeth Smith Sy, she would be your first problem.
And most of the time, she would also be your last.
From a distance, her eyes met Gabriel's.
There was no softness in that look. No lecture either.
It was just one cold stare that seemed to say, You are a problem again.
Gia smirked back as if answering, You did not do anything.
Gabriel gave the slightest scoff and returned his attention to the glass in his hand.
Beside him, Anthony quietly watched as well, the faintest trace of amusement barely visible at the corner of his mouth.
In their world, that was what love looked like.
Not gentle.
Not loud.
But if anyone ever tried to point a gun at one of them, someone would die if they wanted it that way.