Chapter 3
Bastian stopped. He opened his mouth, likely to offer a rehearsed, arrogant justification for his treason.
He never got the chance to speak a single word.
Alaric moved with a blinding, explosive speed that completely defied his fifty-nine years. He did not draw a weapon. He drew his right hand back and delivered one thunderous, open-handed slap directly across Bastian’s face.
The sound cracked through the dining room like a rifle shot. The immense kinetic force of the blow was staggering. Bastian’s head snapped violently sideways, the impact completely short-circuiting his brain. He lost all motor control instantly.
Bastian staggered violently backward, his polished leather shoes scrambling uselessly against the plush carpet. He flew backward across the room, completely out of control, and crashed directly into the towering gift table positioned near the wall.
The heavy table buckled instantly under his weight. Bastian crashed among the scattered boxes, crushing expensive, beautifully wrapped gifts for his unborn child beneath him. He hit the floor with a heavy, wet thud and did not move, his fair face already swelling with a brutal, dark bruise.
There was no dialogue. The bodyguards standing along the perimeter of the room did not move a muscle. They remained perfectly still, their hands resting near their concealed weapons, entirely loyal to the man who had just dismantled the upstart son-in-law.
Faye Mercer shrieked, backing away from the ornate chair, clutching her small baby bump in sudden, absolute terror.
Bianca Coletti, witnessing her son's brutal punishment, completely lost whatever fragile grip she had on reality. Blinded by a mother's manic arrogance and failing to comprehend the lethal danger she was in, she moved protectively toward the wreckage of the gift table, placing herself between Alaric and the unconscious Bastian.
She pointed a shaking, jewelry-clad finger directly at Serena, who was still leaning against her father.
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"You hit my son over a weak, useless girl!" Bianca hissed, her voice venomous and shrill, echoing off the pristine white walls. "Then take your daughter, Alaric! We don't need her! My grandson inherits everything! The commission will back Bastian when they find out she can only produce a female!"
The sheer, staggering stupidity of the threat silenced the entire room. The Capos stared at Bianca as if she were a ghost, realizing she had just openly declared a rebellion against the most feared man in Chicago.
