Chapter 6
The ringing silence that followed the crash was suffocating. The bright, natural colors of the scattered microfiber towels and polishing pads created a surreal, messy portrait of total destruction against the pristine garage floor. The two bodyguards standing a few feet away remained perfectly still in their dark suits, their fair faces devoid of any shock. They were loyal only to the Boss.
Helena groaned from beneath the collapsed boxes. Her expensive silk blouse was torn, her hair was a tangled mess, and a massive, dark red handprint was already swelling violently across her fair, rosy cheek. She pushed a heavy box off her chest, gasping for air, her eyes wide with unadulterated terror as she stared up at her cousin.
Carmine slowly walked toward the wreckage. His polished leather shoes crunched softly over the scattered plastic spray bottles.
He stopped just inches from where Helena lay trembling. He did not offer his hand to help her up. Instead, he reached down and casually picked up the luxury car key fob that she had dropped during the violent impact.
He held the fob up to the cinematic light for a fraction of a second. Then, without a word, he turned his hand and dropped the expensive electronic key directly into the overturned bucket of freezing, soapy water that Helena had used to torture his son. The key sank to the bottom with a dull plop.
Helena let out a pathetic, whimpering gasp, clutching her stinging face.
Carmine did not look at her. He turned his cold, intimidating eyes toward the two bodyguards standing at attention. He gave them a single, subtle nod.
The bodyguards immediately turned and walked toward the massive, heavy iron estate gates located just behind where Helena had fallen. They punched a code into the keypad, and the massive gates began to hum, slowly grinding open to reveal the long, isolated road leading away from the Bellucci compound.
Carmine slowly turned his head back to the ruined woman on the floor.
"You starved my son," Carmine whispered, his voice dead calm, vibrating with a lethal, absolute finality. "Over a scratch."
Helena opened her mouth to speak, to beg, but the terrifying emptiness in his eyes silenced her instantly.
"The car stays," Carmine stated, gesturing vaguely toward the midnight-blue sedan. He took a slow step backward, turning his back on her entirely. "You don't."
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"Carmine, please!" Helena shrieked, panic finally overriding her shock. "I have no money on me! My phone is in the house! You can't just throw me out on the street!"
"If you are not off my property in thirty seconds," Carmine said, his voice echoing over his shoulder, "I will have the guards drag you out by your hair."
