Chapter 3 - The Color Drains
Richard’s knees buckled slightly against the Persian rug as the horrifying reality of what he had done crashed down upon him.
He had spent two years treating me like a doorstep prisoner, convinced my family had lost all power in the tri-state area.
“Jonathan… sir… there’s been a terrible misunderstanding!” Richard stammered, his arrogant New York hedge fund swagger completely evaporating into thin air.
“We were just joking around! It was a domestic dispute, nothing more!”
My father didn't raise his voice, but the chilling whisper that came through the speaker made the entire room freeze in absolute dread.
“You laid your hands on my daughter inside my jurisdiction, Richard,” my father stated, every word falling like a lead weight.
“And you did it while she was holding my newborn grandson in her arms.”
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“I didn't know… I swear I didn't know she would call you!” Richard sobbed pathetically, dropping his champagne glass onto the floor.
“Knowing is no longer your concern, Richard,” my father replied coldly. “Your education in consequence is about to begin.”
