Chapter 7
Before Mavis could fully process the gravity of Roland’s words, a series of loud, aggressive knocks hammered against the heavy oak door of the private office. The violent pounding shattered the quiet, intimate tension between them.
Roland did not flinch. He slowly lowered his tattooed hand from Mavis’s chin, his expression instantly hardening back into the cold, impenetrable mask of a Mafia boss. He turned toward the door, his posture rigid and authoritative.
"Enter," Roland commanded, his deep, raspy voice carrying effortlessly through the thick wood.
The door burst open. Vincent Thorne, Camellia’s older brother and a prominent figure in an allied crime syndicate, stormed into the room. Vincent was a large, imposing white American man wearing a flashy evening suit, his fair skin flushed a dark, furious red. Behind him, two of Roland’s own bodyguards stood at the ready, their hands hovering near their concealed weapons, waiting for their boss to give the order to intervene.
"You humiliated her!" Vincent roared, his American accent thick with aggressive rage. He pointed a trembling finger at Roland, ignoring Mavis entirely. "You dragged my sister through the mud in front of the entire city! The Thorne family will not stand for this level of disrespect, Roland!"
Roland did not raise his voice. He did not move abruptly. He simply stared at Vincent with eyes so cold they could freeze the ocean.
"Your sister humiliated herself, Vincent," Roland replied, keeping his volume dangerously low. The controlled pauses between his words struck like physical blows. "She sold fraudulent artwork. She lied to my associates. She extorted a young woman under my roof."
"Who cares about the girl?" Vincent spat, finally glancing at Mavis with absolute disgust. "She is a servant! You broke off a multi-million dollar engagement and fractured a syndicate alliance over a maid with a paintbrush! Have you lost your mind?"
"I do not answer to you, Vincent," Roland whispered slowly, taking a single, measured step toward the enraged man. "And I highly suggest you lower your voice before I have my men remove your tongue."
Vincent hesitated, his bravado faltering for a fraction of a second against Roland’s terrifying, movie-star charisma and lethal reputation. He swallowed hard, adjusting his suit jacket, but his pride refused to let him back down completely.
"The Thorne family invested heavily in this exhibition," Vincent argued, his tone dropping to a tense, defensive growl. "We promised the buyers original works by Camellia. If you expose this, the buyers will demand their money back. Our reputation will be ruined."
"Your reputation is already in ashes," Roland stated coldly. "The buyers watched her refuse to hold a brush. The truth is out. The money will be refunded from Camellia’s personal accounts."
"We will not pay for this!" Vincent shouted, stepping forward aggressively.
In a flash of motion so blindingly fast it defied his relaxed posture, Roland’s right hand shot out. The sharp, refined tattoos on his knuckles blurred as he grabbed Vincent violently by the throat. Roland slammed the larger man backward against the heavy oak door with a deafening, echoing thud.
Mavis gasped, stepping backward, her hands flying to her mouth.
Roland held Vincent pinned against the wood, his grip iron-tight. The Mafia boss leaned in, his face inches from the choking man.
"You will pay every single cent," Roland growled, the romantic charm entirely replaced by the devil. "Or I will burn your family's empire to the ground and paint my new gallery with the ashes. Do we have an understanding?"
May you like
Vincent choked, his eyes bulging as he nodded frantically.
"Good," Roland whispered, releasing his grip and letting the man collapse to the floor.
