He stepped off the veranda and started down the stone steps toward the garden. His boots hit gravel.
The hedges rustled to the right. He turned toward the sound, heart hammering, every muscle pulled taut.
And then he saw them.
Matthew’s back was to him. Anna was pinned between him and a column, her hands pressed against his chest, her head turned away. Her face was pale and her lip was bleeding.
Henry didn’t think.
He charged forward, grabbed Matthew by the collar, and yanked him away from her.
Matthew stumbled but caught his footing. “What the hell– ?”
Henry punched him.
The sound cracked through the garden.
Matthew reeled back, blood blooming from his nose.
Henry advanced, jaw clenched. Voice low, deadly.
“Touch her again, and I’ll end you.”
Matthew staggered back. “You don’t know what she– ”
Henry slammed him into the column.
“I know exactly what I saw.”
He drew back and punched him again. Harder.
This time, Matthew dropped to a knee.
Henry stood over him, breathing sharp. “You coward. You leech. You pathetic little man.”
Matthew coughed, wiping blood onto his sleeve.
“I should ruin you on principle,” Henry said. “You don’t deserve your title. You don’t deserve your name.”
Matthew’s eyes were wide now. He opened his mouth, but no words came.
Henry let go of Matthew’s coat and shoved him backward into the gravel.
“Get up. Get out. And if I ever see you near her again– anywhere– I’ll end what I started.”
Matthew looked at Anna, but she didn’t meet his eyes.
Henry stepped between them.
“Now.”
Matthew scrambled up and fled without another word.
Henry didn’t move until Matthew’s footsteps disappeared completely.
Henry stood still for a moment, his chest rising and falling fast and his fists ached from impact. He looked at Anna.
“Are you hurt?”
