Chapter 5
The aftermath of the violence left the grand ballroom suspended in a breathless vacuum. The bright, vibrant colors of the gala now framed a scene of total devastation. Shattered glass, dented silver domes, and soaked flower petals littered the floor around Garrett’s groaning form.
Alessia stood tall, her posture radiating an intimidating, imperial calm. She slowly raised her left hand. The heavy diamond wedding ring on her finger caught the light of the chandeliers, sparkling with a bright, mocking brilliance.
Without breaking eye contact with the wreckage of her husband, Alessia gripped the diamond ring with her right hand. She twisted it off her finger in one smooth, deliberate motion. The metal slid free, severing the last symbolic tie between their families.
She pulled her arm back and hurled the heavy ring hard against Garrett’s soaking-wet chest. The diamond struck his ruined tuxedo shirt with a sharp thwack before bouncing off into the puddles of water on the marble.
"You kicked my mother," Alessia said. Her voice was quiet, lethal, and completely devoid of mercy. The American accent was clipped, slicing through the dead silence of the room. "Now crawl out of my house."
Garrett stared up at her in utter shock. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, mixing with the fountain water dripping from his chin. He clutched his bruised ribs, his rosy skin pale and slick with sweat.
"Alessia... please," Garrett rasped, the arrogance completely beaten out of him. "You can't do this. We have a legal partnership. The political connections..."
"The connections belong to me," Alessia interrupted coldly. "You were merely the parasite attached to them."
"You are making a mistake!" Evelyn shrieked from the edge of the room, finding a fraction of her voice. "My husband will not stand for this! The Lawson family will pull all political protection from your syndicates! We will see you in federal court!"
Alessia slowly turned her head toward her mother-in-law. The look in her eyes made Evelyn press herself harder against the wall.
"Your husband is a state senator who likes to gamble in Macau," Alessia stated softly. "I own his markers. I own the banks that hold the mortgages on your estates. If you utter one more threat in this room, Evelyn, I will have my lawyers liquidate your entire bloodline by Monday morning."
Evelyn’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She looked at her son, bleeding among the silver trays, and realized they had walked into a trap of their own making.
"Guards," Alessia commanded, her voice ringing with absolute authority.
Four towering bodyguards stepped forward instantly.
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"He doesn't get to walk," Alessia said, pointing at Garrett. "If he tries to stand, break his legs. He crawls to the front gate. Ensure the staff opens the doors so he has a clear path."
Garrett let out a pathetic, humiliated sob. He looked around at the faces of the capos and guests—his supposed friends—and saw only cold, indifferent stares. He placed his hands on the wet marble and began the agonizing, agonizingly slow process of dragging himself forward.
