Chapter 5 No.5

"So," Imogen exhaled, her shoulders dropping about two inches. "We should discuss terms. I assume you have a prenup? I'll sign it. I don't want your money."

Gael fought the urge to laugh. If only she knew how much money she was agreeing not to want. "We can discuss the paperwork later."

"Imogen!"

The voice came from the entrance, loud and booming. Imogen flinched so hard her knee hit the underside of the table.

She turned. Standing there, looking red-faced and furious, was Chad.

"I knew it," Chad sneered, marching toward their booth. He was wearing a tight polo shirt that emphasized his gym muscles, his face slick with sweat. "Linda said you were meeting some guy. I didn't believe her."

Imogen stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Chad. Leave me alone."

"You belong to me, Immy. You don't get to just walk away." Chad reached out and grabbed her upper arm. His fingers dug into the exact spot where he had bruised her last week.

"Let go!" Imogen cried out, trying to twist away.

"Who's this?" Chad looked at Gael with a sneer. "This the dentist? Look at him. He looks like he spends all day playing video games in his mom's basement."

Gael didn't stand up. He didn't even look angry. He just looked... bored.

"Let go of the lady's arm," Gael said. His voice was conversational, low.

"Or what, four-eyes?" Chad laughed, tightening his grip. Imogen winced, a small sound of pain escaping her lips.

That sound was the trigger.

Gael moved. It was a blur. One second he was sitting; the next, he was standing, his hand clamped around Chad's wrist.

Gael didn't look like a bodybuilder. He was lean, elegant. But the grip he had on Chad was iron. He squeezed.

Chad's eyes bulged. His mouth opened in a silent scream as the pressure on his radial nerve became unbearable. His hand sprang open, releasing Imogen.

"I said," Gael whispered, leaning in close to Chad's face, "let go."

He twisted Chad's arm behind his back with a sickening pop of the shoulder joint, forcing the larger man down onto his knees.

The coffee shop had gone silent. Everyone was watching.

"You're breaking my arm!" Chad squealed.

"If you ever touch her again," Gael said, his voice calm and terrifyingly devoid of emotion, "I will not just break your arm. I will dismantle you. Do you understand?"

"Yes! Yes!"

Gael released him, shoving him toward the door. "Get out."

Chad scrambled up, cradling his arm, his face purple with humiliation. He shot a venomous look at Imogen, then fled the shop.

Imogen stood frozen, her chest heaving. She looked at Gael with wide, shocked eyes.

"You..." she stammered. "You're a dentist?"

Gael picked up his glasses and slid them back on, transforming instantly back into the mild-mannered man in the hoodie. He checked his knuckles for damage.

"I have... very strong hands," he said deadpan. "Root canals require a lot of torque."