Chapter 5
Ainsley stared at her brother’s broken, bleeding body buried beneath the scattered sheet music and collapsed music stands. The arrogant, triumphant smirk she had worn just seconds prior evaporated, replaced by a raw, unadulterated panic. The illusion of her power had just been violently shattered.
She looked at Galen, who was standing over the wreckage like an avenging god, and then her terrified eyes darted to Eira, who was peeking out from behind her father’s tailored trousers.
Driven by blind, hysterical fury and a desperate need to reclaim some twisted form of control, Ainsley shrieked.
"You ruined everything!" Ainsley screamed, her voice echoing shrilly across the cavernous ballroom.
She lunged past Galen, her luxurious bridal rehearsal gown tearing against her heels as she bypassed the Don entirely. Her manicured hands hooked into claws, she aimed directly for the four-year-old girl, intending to snatch Eira and use the child as a physical shield.
Galen did not let her get within three feet of his daughter.
He moved with absolute, ruthless precision. He reached out and tore Ainsley’s hand away from the air with an iron, bone-jarring grip. He violently twisted her arm, completely halting her forward momentum.
Before Ainsley could even gasp in pain, Galen drew his right hand back. He delivered one thunderous, open-handed slap across her face.
The sound cracked like a whip through the silent ballroom. The immense force of the strike lifted Ainsley off her expensive heels. She spun violently backward, her fair and rosy skin instantly marking with a bright, furious red handprint.
She flew backward across the polished hardwood floor, entirely out of control, and crashed directly into the ribbon-wrapping station.
The large wooden table buckled under the sudden, massive impact. Spools of thick satin and silk ribbon unraveled wildly, spinning across the floor in long, colorful streaks. Dozens of decorative wedding boxes burst open upon hitting the ground. Massive, elaborate bows and piles of white tissue paper scattered everywhere, raining down over Ainsley’s head.
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The table finally collapsed entirely, taking Ainsley down with it. She fell heavily into the wreckage, buried in ribbons and crushed cardboard boxes. She groaned in agony, her flawless hair ruined, her diamond jewelry tangled in the silk.
There was no dialogue. The bodyguards standing near the perimeter of the room remained perfectly still, their hands resting on their concealed weapons, entirely unwilling to intervene on behalf of the Vale family. Galen stood in the center of the destruction, his chest rising and falling in a slow, controlled rhythm. The threat to his daughter had been permanently neutralized.
