Chapter 4
The bright, luminous lighting of the ballroom offered absolutely no shadows for the impending violence. Richard Sterling, fueled by decades of bitter entitlement and a desperate need to reclaim patriarchal control of the syndicate, stormed directly toward Elena. His polished shoes struck the marble with heavy, aggressive intent.
"You think you can embarrass us?" Richard yelled, his face flushing a deep, angry crimson. "You think you can rule this family wearing a gold dress and hiding behind a bastard child?"
"Do not take another step, Richard," Dominic Cole warned from the periphery, his hand drifting toward the inside of his dark three-piece suit.
"Stay out of this, Dominic!" Richard roared, not even turning his head to look at the senior capo. "This is family business!"
Elena did not retreat. She held Lily securely, her posture perfectly straight, radiating an intimidating, deeply masculine energy of absolute command that completely overshadowed her delicate, feminine gown.
Richard reached her in seconds. He violently grabbed Elena’s bare right shoulder, his fingers digging brutally into her fair, rosy skin. With a sudden, explosive burst of aggression, he violently shoved the twenty-six-year-old Mafia boss backward.
Elena stumbled slightly, her back hitting the heavy brass railing of the velvet staircase with a dull thud. She wrapped both arms around Lily, ensuring the child absorbed none of the impact.
"You are nothing but a little girl playing dress-up!" Richard spat, stepping fully into her personal space.
Blinded by his own adrenaline and catastrophic arrogance, Richard pulled his right arm back. Without a shred of hesitation, he threw a heavy, vicious punch aimed directly at Elena’s face.
Elena did not flinch. She did not cry out. She braced her stance on her high heels and absorbed the strike. The heavy blow glanced off her cheekbone, turning her head slightly to the side. A faint, rosy mark immediately bloomed on her fair skin, a stark, physical testament to his treason.
Behind Richard, Eleanor quietly stepped backward, attempting to distance herself from the physical altercation and move toward the ballroom exit. She had sparked the fire, and now she intended to let her son burn the house down while she secured her own safety.
There was no dialogue. The entire ballroom existed in a state of suspended, horrified animation. The guests, the capos, and the bodyguards watched in absolute silence, waiting to see if the young Queen of the Sterling empire would crumble under the physical dominance of the old guard.
Elena slowly turned her head back to center. Her diamond earrings swayed gently in the cinematic light. She looked at Richard, her eyes completely devoid of fear, warmth, or mercy. She had absorbed his best strike, and she was still standing exactly where she was.
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She gently lowered Lily to the floor, placing the child safely behind her legs, shielding her from the impending carnage. Elena straightened her spine, smoothing the gold fabric of her gown with a slow, deliberate motion.
"My turn," Elena whispered.
