Victoria spun around, ready to land a crushing blow, but froze when she saw it was Justin.
“It’s just me. It’s me.” He covered his face, trying to protect himself.
Coward.
“What’s going on?” Victoria demanded, her voice sharp with fury. “Stop this, now!”
She turned to yell at the fighters, just as Tristan landed a brutal blow to Tyson’s face, splitting his eyebrow wide open.
Blood smeared down Tyson’s cheek, but he barely flinched. Tristan’s own eyebrow dripped crimson, the cut from the fight his father had forced him into earlier splitting open again from Tyson’s hit. The air pulsed with the crack of fists meeting flesh, charged with the raw, feral energy of brothers who had been waiting for this fight their entire lives.
Victoria surged forward, determined to stop them, only for a hand to clamp around her leg, yanking her off balance.
Justin.
She hit the ground hard, rage flaring white-hot as his voice cut through the chaos.
“No. Stop. Let them work this out.”
Instinct took over. She twisted mid-fall, snapping her leg out in a vicious kick. Her shoe connected with his face, a sickening crack echoing as he stumbled back, clutching his nose.
Victoria pushed herself up, chest heaving, eyes blazing. “That’s what you get,” she seethed. “Don’t ever touch me again, you piece of shit.”
Justin stumbled back, raising his hands in surrender, but fear was clear in his eyes now.
Her words cut through the tension like a blade, and without hesitation, Tristan spun on Tyson, his cold fury igniting. He grabbed his brother by the throat with a brutal force that lifted Tyson off the ground, his legs dangling in the air.
Tristan’s voice was chillingly calm, just like Klaus in those moments of perfect control. “You think you’re tough, Tyson?”Tristan sneered, his eyes narrowing. “You’re pathetic. Do you really believe I’m going to let you run your mouth and your fists like this? You’re my fucking brother, and this is the last time I let you forget it.”
With a sudden, violent motion, Tristan slammed Tyson to the ground, the impact echoing through the gym.
Tyson smirked, looking Tristan dead in the eye, even as blood dripped from his split brow. “You don’t get to decide, Tristan.” His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it, something unraveling beneath the surface. “I’ve bled for this family just as much as you have. And you—,” he let out a bitter laugh, “you don’t even fucking want it.”
Tyson’s smirk faded as his eyes flashed with resentment, betrayal, perhaps even jealousy. With a scoff, he stormed off, his fist slamming into a nearby locker, the metal denting under his rage.
Tristan turned toward Justin, stepping closer, his movements purposeful and terrifying. Justin scrambled backward on his ass, but Tristan was too fast. He loomed over him, his gaze deadly.
“Don’t ever fucking put your hands on her again, or I’ll make sure the next time you talk, it’ll be through a straw. Understand?”
With a final look of disdain, Tristan grabbed Victoria’s hand, helping her up. Their fingers intertwined as they walked over to where her gym bag had been discarded. Tristan bent down, scooping it up effortlessly before slinging it over his shoulder.
They started walking toward the door, but Justin’s voice stopped them.
“See you tomorrow, Victoria,” he called out, his voice dripping with something that made her stomach twist. “You and Taylor at the ball, right?”
Tristan squeezed Victoria’s hand, his eyes not matching the smile he gave as he brushed a gentle kiss against her knuckles. When he pulled away, his expression hardened as he turned toward Justin.
Tristan yanked Justin by the collar, slamming him against the nearest wall with a force that rattled the air around them.
“You think you’re safe?” Tristan’s voice was calm. Too calm. “You think my father’s gonna protect you?”
Justin stood frozen, shock painted across his face.
Tristan stepped closer, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re just another pawn, Justin. And when you’re no longer useful?” He leaned in, his smirk darkening. “You’re dead.”
Justin swallowed hard, the weight of Tristan’s words sinking in, fear creeping up his spine. Tristan pulled back, letting the threat hang in the air. No punch was needed. The fear was more than enough.
Tristan’s lips curled into a tight smile as he released his grip, watching Justin crumple to the ground. Turning, he walked back to Victoria, his hand finding hers as they left without a word.