Chapter 1 - The Crack of the Leather
The polished cream marble of the grand foyer reflected the golden glow of the crystal chandelier like frozen ice.
Without warning, Evelyn whipped the heavy brown leather belt through the stagnant air with sickening precision.
The thick brass buckle hissed across the empty space of the drawing room before the leather bit violently into the young girl's sleeve.
Twenty-year-old Clara recoiled against the wall, clutching her upper arm as a sharp, agonizing gasp tore from her throat.
Beneath the torn seam of her modest cream blouse, a hot red welt instantly flared against her pale skin.
Her hazel eyes brimmed with involuntary tears as she stared at the glamorous woman towering over her.
Forty-four-year-old Evelyn stood tall in her form-fitting burgundy satin dress, her sharp diamond earrings trembling with malicious adrenaline.
Her shoulder-length golden hair framed a face twisted into an expression of unbridled, aristocratic cruelty.
She raised the belt once more, ready to bring it down across Clara’s unprotected collarbone.
Before the leather could reach its apex, twenty-five-year-old Julian threw himself between them with desperate velocity.
His athletic frame crashed into the space in front of his sister, his arms instantly locking around her trembling shoulders.
The leather struck Julian across his navy-blue casual shirt with a dull, heavy thud that barely made him flinch.
Evelyn’s manicured hand seized Julian’s collar instantly, her long crimson nails digging viciously into the fabric until the seam ripped violently.
She shoved both siblings backward toward the heavy entrance with an unnatural, venomous fury.
Julian’s boots slid hard against the slippery marble, but he refused to surrender his sister's frail frame to the assault.
"Don't you dare touch my sister!" Julian roared, his deep voice vibrating against the high arched ceiling.
Evelyn sneered, raising the heavy brown belt once again with cold, unrepentant dominance.
Beside the tall wooden bookshelf, Evelyn’s sixty-seven-year-old mother, Margaret, watched the violence unfold with a tight, approving smirk.
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Margaret adjusted her opulent pearl necklace over her heavy purple floral dress, her dark eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction.
The grand foyer felt suffocatingly small as Evelyn stepped forward to finish what she had started.
