Chapter 2: Blood on the Geometric Floor
Time seemed to fracture, slowing down to a torturous crawl as Julian watched his father hit the ground. The geometric patterns of the marble floor suddenly felt like a twisted, dizzying chessboard, and Arthur was the pawn who had just been mercilessly struck down.
Arthur lay motionless on the cold, reflective tile. The grey sweater he wore was bunched up around his waist, and his eyes were closed in a grimace of deep, unconscious agony. Then, the true horror of the moment materialized. A thin, dark trickle of blood slipped from the corner of Arthur’s mouth, pooling slowly onto the pristine white marble. The bright, unforgiving lights of the chandeliers above caught the reflection of the blood, amplifying the sheer brutality of what had just happened.
Victoria stood above him, adjusting her black chain purse on her shoulder, completely unbothered. She looked down at the unconscious man as if he were a minor inconvenience, a stain on her expensive shoes. She scoffed, a tiny, arrogant smirk playing at the corner of her perfectly painted lips.
Julian’s shock evaporated, instantly replaced by a volcanic, unbridled fury. The military training he had buried for years surged back to the surface, sharp and deadly. He didn't see a billionaire heiress anymore; he saw a threat that needed to be neutralized.
He stepped fiercely toward Victoria. His face, usually calm and composed, was now contorted with a terrifying, primal rage. His eyes burned into hers, projecting a promise of absolute destruction.
"You think your money protects you from me?!" Julian shouted furiously, his voice tearing through the grand hallway like a shockwave.
For the first time in her pampered, untouchable life, Victoria Lin felt genuine, paralyzing fear. Her cold facade shattered. She took a quick, defensive step backward, her eyes widening as she realized that the man standing in front of her could not be bought, bribed, or intimidated.
Without a single second of hesitation, Julian lunged. He didn't strike her; he simply removed her from his path with the force of a hurricane. He planted both of his large hands violently onto her shoulders and shoved her backward with immense, aggressive power.
Victoria let out a sharp shriek as her feet flew out from under her. She stumbled back violently, her sleek black hair whipping across her face, her heavy chain purse flying wildly into the air. The sheer force of the shove sent her entirely out of the frame of Julian’s reality, crashing into a decorative brass stanchion several yards away.
But Julian didn't even watch her fall. His priority was his father.
He immediately dropped to his knees, the fabric of his navy trousers hitting the marble hard. He scrambled to Arthur’s side, his chest heaving with panicked, rapid breaths. He urgently placed a trembling, strong hand flat against his father’s back, feeling for the rise and fall of his lungs.
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"Dad? Dad, can you hear me?!" Julian begged, his voice cracking with desperation. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket with bloodstained fingers, dialing 911 with frantic speed. "I need an ambulance at the Continental Plaza! My father is unconscious! He's bleeding!"
In the distance, security guards were finally running down the hall, their heavy boots echoing on the stone. Victoria was picking herself up off the floor, humiliated, disheveled, and screaming threats of lawsuits and ruin. But as Julian looked at the blood on the floor, he made a silent vow to the universe. Victoria Lin had just started a war, and Julian was going to burn her empire to the ground.
