Chapter 1
The private tennis court was bathed in bright, cinematic video colors, illuminated by the flawless afternoon sun. The natural lighting carried absolutely no yellow tint, casting a crisp, immaculate white glow over the pristine green surface of the court. It highlighted the fair, rosy skin of the White American adults who occupied the exclusive space. The air was crisp, but the atmosphere was thick with an unspoken, toxic tension. Near the baseline, the heavy, mechanical hum of an industrial ball machine vibrated through the ground. The court was meticulously organized, featuring a rolling racket rack, empty ball baskets, foam racket grips scattered neatly on a table, a padded court bench, stacked practice cones, and folded spare nets resting by the perimeter fencing.
Evelyn Price stood near the ball machine, looking every bit the aristocratic socialite. At thirty-five years old, her fair, rosy complexion was perfectly maintained. She wore an elegant tennis-club outfit that clung flawlessly to her figure, athletic shoes, heavy diamond jewelry, and a massive engagement ring that caught the bright sunlight. In her manicured hand, she held the black plastic remote for the ball machine.
"The speed settings on this model are remarkable, Miles," Evelyn noted, her American accent crisp and dripping with a subtle, underlying cruelty. "I believe it can serve at over eighty miles an hour on the highest calibration."
Her brother, Miles Price, stood leaning against the chain-link fence. At forty-one, the Mafia-family associate wore a tailored jacket, crisp trousers, a luxury wristwatch, and polished leather shoes that had no business being on a tennis court. His fair, rosy face was stretched into an arrogant, accommodating smirk.
"We didn't come here to practice our backhands, Evelyn," Miles chuckled, his American accent smooth but laced with impatience. "We came here to finalize the logistics of the syndicate merger before Damon arrives from the VIP lounge. You need to ensure he signs the eastern port contracts today."
"Damon will do whatever I ask of him," Evelyn replied confidently, adjusting the diamond bracelet on her wrist. "He is entirely captivated by me. But before we discuss business, I have to deal with the only nuisance in my new household."
Miles followed her gaze across the court. "The kid? You shouldn't worry about her. She's just a child."
"She is a constant, irritating reminder of his past," Evelyn hissed, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the far side of the net. "She needs to learn that I am the matriarch now. She needs to be broken of her pathetic, clinging habits."
May you like
"Just don't leave any visible marks," Miles advised, checking his wristwatch with utter apathy. "Damon is protective. If he sees you disciplining her too harshly, it could complicate the negotiations."
"Oh, please," Evelyn scoffed, raising the black remote in her hand and pointing it toward the opposite side of the court. "It is just a harmless game of tennis. What could possibly go wrong?"
