Chapter 5
The impact was a loud, sickening crack that echoed through the vaulted ceiling of the ballroom.
The heavy wooden shaft connected brutally with Fintan’s ribs and upper arm. The sheer, unexpected force of the blow from the young housemaid completely shattered Fintan’s grip on Aldous’s collar.
Fintan gasped, a sharp, wheezing sound escaping his lungs as all the air was driven from his chest. His eyes bulged in shock. He staggered wildly backward, his expensive tuxedo shoes slipping on the pristine marble floor.
Unable to catch his balance, Fintan crashed backward into the heavy plastic cleaning trolley.
The impact was catastrophic. The entire trolley overturned with a deafening crash. Heavy plastic buckets flew violently from their holders. Gallons of soapy, dirty water splashed in a massive wave across the clean marble floor, soaking the cuffs of the nearest guests. Metal trays holding cleaning supplies crashed and clattered onto the floor beside him, spinning loudly into the crowd.
Fintan’s legs flew out from under him. He landed incredibly heavily on his back in the growing puddle of dirty water, letting out a sharp groan of pain as the fallen, heavy plastic trolley crashed down directly across his legs, pinning him to the floor.
The ballroom erupted in chaos. Several female guests shrieked, jumping back to avoid the splashing water. Capos drew their concealed weapons, the metallic clicks of handguns echoing under the bright crystal chandeliers.
The two bodyguards flanking Fintan froze in absolute shock. They stared down at their employer, who was thrashing pathetically beneath the overturned plastic cart, covered in dirty mop water and soap suds.
Carys stood in the center of the wreckage, her chest heaving violently. She held the wooden mop handle suspended in the air for a second before she dropped it, the wood clattering loudly against the wet marble.
No one spoke. The fifty guests stared in stunned, breathless disbelief. A twenty-five-year-old housemaid in a white lace headband had just laid out a senior mafia associate with a cleaning tool in front of the entire syndicate.
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The bright, luminous lighting illuminated the sheer terror spreading across Fintan's face as he realized what had just happened. He was soaking wet, humiliated, and pinned to the floor by a maid's cart.
Carys didn't look at the capos. She didn't look at the drawn guns or the gasping donors. She dropped her hands to her sides, her breathing ragged, the adrenaline crashing through her system like a tidal wave.
