Chapter 2
The massive glass entry doors suddenly burst open with a deafening crash that shook the imported crystal chandeliers above.
Thirty-five-year-old Marcus stood framed in the double doorway, his charcoal grey suit radiating an aura of chilling, authoritative power.
His light blue shirt collar was slightly unbuttoned, and his dark hair was wind-swept from his frantic sprint across the courtyard.
For one fleeting micro-second, his eyes widened in sheer, agonizing disbelief as he processed the horrific scene playing out inside.
That momentary shock instantly dissolved, twisting with terrifying speed into an absolute, explosive rage that darkened his striking features.
The air pressure in the grand hallway seemed to plummet, dropping the temperature as Marcus took his first lethal step forward.
Margaret let out a ragged sigh of relief against the base of the marble pillar, her eyes reflecting total vindication.
Victoria froze mid-motion, the black riding whip still raised in her manicured hand as her arrogant posture stiffened instantly.
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The low, ominous cinematic bass drone that had been building in the background suddenly reached a deafening, vibrating crescendo.
Every fiber of Marcus's towering physique screamed lethal retribution against the woman who had dared to abuse his flesh and blood.
