Chapter 2 - The Lethal Fury Beneath A Father’s Cold Stare
John remained frozen on his knees against the dew-soaked grass of the sprawling estate lawn. The American flag hanging proudly from the white pillars of the mansion fluttered softly in the crisp breeze.
His muscular frame trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the terrifying surge of absolute, unadulterated lethal fury. Evelyn stood on the grand marble steps above them, her crimson silk robe catching the morning sunlight like a wound.
She slowly lowered her oversized designer sunglasses down the bridge of her nose with unhurried arrogance. Her dark, calculating eyes locked onto John with an untouchable smirk that screamed of complete impunity.
“You’re making a mountain out of a molehill, John, she just slipped on the patio,” Evelyn drawled lazily. John did not blink, his gray eyes narrowing into two razor-sharp slits of concentrated ice.
He pulled little Lily closer to his chest, shielding her bruised, bloodied palms from the open air. The silence between them stretched across the manicured green lawn like a pulled wire ready to snap.
“You made her pick up the glass,” John repeated, his voice dropping into a terrifying, dead whisper. Evelyn raised a manicured eyebrow, tilting her sleek dark head with feigned, sickening innocence.
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“Children are clumsy, darling; they fall down and scrape their hands all the time,” Evelyn dismissed dismissively. John gently set Lily down, standing up slowly to his full height with terrifying, predatory grace.
The air around them grew instantly colder as the true war for his family’s survival officially began.
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