Chapter 5
The bright, cheerful ambiance of the summer garden party had been completely annihilated, replaced by the suffocating tension of a war zone. Nolan lay motionless beneath a pile of scattered, unfolded white chairs, blood trickling from his nose onto his expensive polo shirt. The crisp, cinematic lighting highlighted the utter devastation of the event setup.
"Nolan!" Victor roared.
The sixty-seven-year-old patriarch dropped his crystal glass. It shattered against the paving stones of the patio, spraying amber liquid and ice everywhere. Victor’s fair, rosy face had turned a deep, furious purple. He pushed himself off the padded garden bench, his formal summer suit pulling tight across his shoulders as he stormed across the grass.
"You insolent, arrogant bitch!" Victor screamed, his American accent cracking with pure, unrestrained fury. "What have you done to my son?"
"I gave him the exact lesson he was trying to teach my boy," Serafina replied calmly, standing her ground as the older man approached. "I suggest you take him and leave my property before I lose what little patience I have left."
"Your property?" Victor spat, his eyes bulging with rage. "This family belongs to me! My brother built this syndicate, and you stole the seat from its rightful heirs! I tolerate you because you make the ledgers balance, but you are nothing!"
"I am the Boss," Serafina said, her voice dropping into a deadly, icy register. "And you will address me with respect, Victor."
Victor didn't care about respect. He didn't care about the rules. He only saw his son lying bleeding in the dirt, put there by a woman he deeply despised. Closing the final few feet between them, Victor lunged forward.
He reached out with a heavy, thick-fingered hand, his gold signet ring flashing in the sunlight, and violently grabbed Serafina by the shoulder of her tailored three-piece suit. He squeezed hard, attempting to physically dominate her, to force her to her knees in front of the watching capos and family guests.
"You are going to pay for this, Serafina," Victor snarled, spitting the words into her face. "I am going to strip you of everything. Your title, your money, and when I'm done, I'll take your kids and have them raised by someone who understands our bloodline!"
The threat to her children was the absolute, final mistake Victor Bellandi would ever make in his life.
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"Get your hands off me," Serafina whispered.
With blinding speed, she brought her hand up and clamped it over Victor’s wrist. She dug her thumb brutally into the nerve cluster just below his palm. Victor gasped in sharp, sudden pain. With a violent, twisting wrench, Serafina completely tore his heavy hand away from her shoulder, breaking his grip as effortlessly as snapping a dry twig.
