Chapter 3 - Marcus Struggles Up From Broken Antique Maps
Across the shattered remnants of the antique map rack, Marcus groaned heavily as he pushed himself up from the hardwood floor.
Splintered oak and antique parchment papers covered his designer suit jacket like a shroud of pathetic defeat.
He wiped a smear of blood from his lip, his vision swimming slightly from the sheer force of Vittorio’s unexpected, bone-crushing punch.
“You’re out of your mind, Vittorio!” Marcus snarled, his voice cracking with a toxic blend of humiliation and unbridled rage.
Vittorio didn't even flinch, taking a slow, calculated step forward with Lucy clutched protectively against his sturdy chest.
“I’m the only one who has been entirely blind in this house for the past two agonizing years,” Vittorio replied coldly.
Marcus stumbled sideways, trying to regain his footing among the scattered brass globes and torn leather map cases.
“Bianca was just trying to instill discipline! The child is unruly, everyone in our social circle knows it!” Marcus barked defensively.
Vittorio’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as he stared down at the man he once considered his closest business associate.
“Discipline? You call forcing a six-year-old child to eat from a dog bowl discipline, you spineless coward?” Vittorio roared.
May you like
The acoustic echo of his voice bounced off the vaulted mahogany ceilings, silencing any further protest from Marcus immediately.
---
Related Stories
