Chapter 3
The bright, vivid colors of the guest room felt like a grotesque mockery of the dark, sickening reality that had just been exposed. Dominic Coleman remained frozen in the doorway for only a second longer, his mind processing the sheer, psychopathic audacity of the betrayal occurring under his own roof.
Driven by pure, blind panic, Hattie made a catastrophic miscalculation. Desperate to regain control of the narrative and force the elderly woman to her feet before Dominic could fully comprehend the abuse, Hattie tightened her grip on the nylon strap.
"Get up, Donna!" Hattie hissed under her breath, trying to pull the eighty-year-old woman upright with the leash. "Dominic, darling, it isn't what it looks like! We were just... she fell, and I was trying to help her!"
The transparent, pathetic lie shattered the absolute silence of the room.
Dominic moved with explosive, terrifying speed. The polished leather of his shoes barely made a sound on the thick carpet as he closed the distance. He bypassed his younger brother entirely, his cold, intimidating eyes locked exclusively on his wife.
Before Hattie could pull the leash a second time, Dominic reached out with his massive, powerful hand. He clamped his fingers around the thick nylon strap just inches above Hattie’s manicured grip. With a sudden, violent exertion of sheer masculine strength, Dominic tore the leash entirely out of Hattie’s hand.
The force of the movement spun Hattie sideways. She let out a sharp cry of pain as the rough nylon burned her palms, her expensive heels skidding awkwardly against the floor as she stumbled backward.
Dominic immediately dropped to one knee beside his mother. With heartbreaking gentleness that completely contradicted his brutal reputation, he removed the degrading loop from around Donna’s shoulders. He tossed the leash aside as if it were a venomous snake, then placed his strong hands securely under his mother's arms, lifting her safely and steadily to her feet.
"I have you, Ma," Dominic murmured, his deep American accent thick with suppressed, volcanic emotion. "You're safe. I've got you."
"I was so scared, Dominic," Donna wept, burying her rosy, tear-stained face into the crisp fabric of his tailored suit vest.
Dominic held her securely with one arm, his cold eyes slowly rising from the floor to meet the gaze of his younger brother.
Michael, realizing that the situation had escalated beyond any hope of diplomatic recovery, puffed out his chest. He took a bold, aggressive step toward Dominic, attempting to project the same intimidating presence as his older brother.
"Don't look at us like that, Dominic," Michael spat, his voice loud and combative. He reached out and forcefully shoved Dominic in the shoulder.
Dominic absorbed the shove without moving a single inch. His jaw clenched so tightly the muscles ticked visibly beneath his fair skin.
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"Do you want to be chained up like her too?" Michael demanded angrily, pointing a trembling finger at his older brother. "You are weak! You let this old woman drain our resources! It’s time for a change in leadership in this family, and Hattie and I are going to take what we deserve!"
Dominic stared at his younger brother. The absolute, unadulterated treason had finally been spoken aloud.
