Chapter 4
The laugh was still vibrating in Preston’s throat when Imani moved. There was no telegraphing, no subtle shift in her stance, and absolutely no hesitation. The elegant, beautiful woman in the striking crimson velvet evening gown transformed instantly into the ruthless, terrifying apex predator who had violently seized control of the city’s underworld.
Imani suddenly drove one explosive, devastating punch directly across Preston’s jaw.
The sheer kinetic force behind the strike was staggering, fueled by years of combat training and the blinding, primal rage of a daughter protecting her mother. The heavy, solid gold family signet ring on Imani’s finger connected perfectly with Preston’s cheekbone with a sickening, wet crunch that echoed over the silent ballroom like a gunshot.
Preston’s arrogant laugh was literally knocked out of his mouth. His head snapped violently sideways with such force that a spray of blood and saliva arced through the air, splattering against the immaculate marble floor. His luxury chronograph watch glinted under the lights as his arms flailed wildly, completely useless.
The impact lifted Preston completely off his patent leather dress shoes. His body spun backward, entirely out of his control. He stumbled several steps rapidly, his custom-tailored midnight blue tuxedo twisting awkwardly around his frame as he desperately tried to find his footing.
He found nothing but air.
Preston crashed directly backwards into the shallow decorative indoor fountain positioned near the edge of the dance floor.
The collision was catastrophic. Water erupted violently into the air in a massive, shimmering arc, raining down over his tuxedo and splashing against the nearby guests who shrieked and scrambled backward. The impact sent dozens of floating, lit candles shooting across the wet marble like small, fiery projectiles.
The heavy, ornate stone flower arrangement positioned beside the fountain was completely overturned by his flailing arms. It crashed heavily into the water with a loud, hollow thud, sending a wave of water cascading over the edges.
Preston landed on his back entirely soaked inside the fountain, the water instantly turning a murky shade of pink from the blood pouring freely from his shattered nose and split lip. He gasped, choking on the chlorinated water as he thrashed weakly among the floating debris of crushed lilies and extinguished candles.
The grand ballroom fell completely, terrifyingly silent. The ambient music seemed to have been turned off. The only sound in the massive, opulent room was the steady, rhythmic splashing of water overflowing from the ruined fountain and dripping steadily onto the marble floor.
There was absolutely no dialogue.
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Constance stood frozen in absolute horror, her hand clamped tightly over her mouth to stifle a scream. Her heavy pearl and diamond layered necklace heaved as she stared at her son, broken and bleeding in the water. The capos and bodyguards remained perfectly still, their hands resting near their weapons, silently waiting for their boss’s next command.
Imani stood perfectly still, her chest rising and falling slowly. She didn't look at her bruised knuckles. She didn't adjust her stunning crimson gown. She simply stared down at the bleeding man in the fountain, her eyes completely devoid of mercy.
