Chapter 5: The Doors of Judgment
The high-pitched ringing sound in the audio mix reached an unbearable, deafening pitch before snapping shut into absolute silence.
BANG!
The massive, hand-carved mahogany doors of the grand ballroom violently burst open, crashing against the interior stone walls with a thunderous impact that rattled the framed United States flag hanging near the entrance.
A sharp, collective gasp echoed through the ballroom. The dazzling lights of the crystal chandeliers flickered once, twice, before casting long, dramatic, skeletal shadows across the panicked faces of the elite guests.
Striding down the center aisle with slow, measured, and terrifyingly deliberate footsteps was Raymond.
At sixty years old, Raymond was an imposing, monolithic figure. He wore a heavy black cashmere overcoat that billowed slightly around his ankles, polished Italian leather gloves that caught the amber light, and a countenance carved from pure granite. His eyes—cold, piercing, and devoid of any human warmth—swept across the opulent room before locking instantly onto his daughter sitting on the marble floor.
Behind him marched a phalanx of twelve heavily built men in tailored black suits, their expressions stone-cold, their hands resting inconspicuously near their coats. They fanned out with military precision, sealing every exit, every service corridor, and every window of the ballroom in a matter of seconds.
The suffocating silence in the room became complete. No one dared to breathe. No one dared to whisper.
Raymond did not look at the terrified socialites scrambling backward against the walls. He did not look at Olivia, whose white lace dress was now trembling violently against her shaking knees.
May you like
His entire focus was fixed on Jason Vance.
Raymond walked past the shattered glass displays and overturned champagne towers, his footsteps echoing rhythmically across the polished marble flooring like a slow-moving executioner. He stopped three feet away from Jason, towering over the groom with an aura of absolute, terrifying authority that commanded the entire room.
