Chapter 4
Celeste stared at the wreckage of the bonsai trolley, her fair, rosy complexion draining of all color as her uncle groaned beneath the twisted metal and burlap. The absolute, unhinged confidence that had driven her to push the child into the water was evaporating rapidly under the bright, cinematic lights.
Panic seized her. In a desperate, irrational bid to regain some form of leverage, Celeste suddenly rushed forward, sprinting past the shattered trolley toward the corridor where the bodyguards had taken Owen.
"Wait!" Celeste shrieked, her heavy diamond jewelry clattering against her collarbone. "Bring him back here!"
Valentina intercepted her with terrifying speed.
She stepped directly into Celeste’s path, her soaked pantsuit clinging to her frame. As Celeste reached out with her manicured hand, attempting to push past her, Valentina grabbed her wrist. She tore Celeste’s hand away with enough force to nearly dislocate the shoulder, twisting the younger woman around.
Without missing a beat, Valentina delivered one thunderous, open-handed slap across Celeste’s face.
The sheer force of the blow lifted Celeste off her designer heels. She spun backward, her luxurious garden-reception gown flaring out around her, and crashed directly into a freestanding shade-panel rack positioned near the edge of the koi pond.
The heavy metal rack buckled instantly. Rolled fabric shades tumbled from their designated slots, cascading down like heavy pillars. Foam planter sleeves scattered wildly, bouncing across the stone. Bundles of soft plant ties spilled across the floor, tangling around Celeste’s ankles. Empty, lightweight watering cans clattered harmlessly across the tile, while neatly folded garden cloths collapsed over Celeste’s head and shoulders as the rack tilted sideways and crashed to the floor.
May you like
Celeste lay buried beneath the fabric and plastic, gasping for breath, her face burning with the searing imprint of Valentina’s hand.
The guests watched the total destruction of the two family conspirators in mute, paralyzed horror. The beautiful, bright colors of the botanical reception were now a backdrop to a brutal, physical purge of the Morello family's inner circle. No one dared to speak. No dialogue broke the heavy, oppressive silence of the room.
