Chapter 7
With a terrifying calm that chilled the room to its core, Marcus leaned in slightly while holding his weeping son.
His voice was barely above a whisper, yet every single syllable cut through the ambient air like a razor-sharp blade.
"You must leave this house tonight," Marcus stated, his tone devoid of any negotiation, hesitation, or human warmth.
Victoria gasped audibly, her hands flying up to cover her mouth in a desperate, theatrical display of disbelief and shock.
"Leave? You are kicking me out of my own home over a spoiled brat and an insolent maid?" she shrieked hysterically.
Her arrogant mask slipped completely, revealing the venomous, entitled shrew hiding beneath the designer velvet and pearls.
Marcus did not blink, his expression remaining an unreadable monument of stone as he stared down the mother of his child.
"Your designer bags will be packed and waiting at the front gates by midnight, handled by estate security," Marcus replied flatly.
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"You cannot do this! My family will destroy your corporation before the sun rises tomorrow!" Victoria screamed, losing all control.
Margaret lowered her eyes respectfully, stepping quietly back into the shadows of the hallway to give the family privacy.
