Chapter 5
The echoes of the shattering wooden shoe rack faded, leaving behind a ringing, oppressive silence in the bright, naturally lit dressing room. The cinematic colors of the room felt disjointed, a vibrant backdrop to the sudden, absolute destruction. Dozens of ruined, expensive designer shoes littered the pristine marble floor, surrounded by jagged splinters of wood.
Before Veronica could even find the breath to scream, the heavy mahogany doors behind Alexander opened further.
Two massive white American adult men wearing professional dark suits stepped into the room. They were Alexander’s elite bodyguards, drawn by the sound of the crash. They took one look at their boss, standing with the broken stool leg in his tattooed hand, and immediately understood the assignment.
Without needing a single verbal command, the two bodyguards bypassed Alexander and stepped directly behind Veronica, completely cutting off her exit. They stood like statues, their hands resting casually over the concealed weapons in their jackets, their fair, rosy faces entirely devoid of emotion.
Veronica’s eyes darted wildly from the bodyguards back to Alexander. Panic, raw and unfiltered, finally consumed her. "Alexander! Are you insane? My father will hear about this! You cannot treat me this way!"
Alexander slowly dropped the broken leg of the stool. It clattered against the marble.
He raised his left hand, the one still holding the humiliating, starched white maid apron that Sofia had been forced to wear. With a slow, deliberate motion, Alexander opened his fingers. The apron fluttered down, landing directly on top of a scattered pile of Veronica’s ruined designer shoes.
"Look at me," Alexander commanded. His voice was a low, terrifying growl, forced through clenched teeth. Every syllable was calculated, dripping with a lethal promise.
Veronica trembled, her diamond jewelry shaking against her collarbone as she forced herself to meet his cold, intimidating eyes.
"My daughter... will no longer serve you," Alexander said, the controlled pauses between his words striking like physical blows. He raised his hand, pointing a single, steady finger toward the open mahogany door. "Neither will this house."
"You... you're calling off the wedding?" Veronica gasped, her voice shrill with disbelief and horror. "Over a stupid prank? The invitations have been sent! The families have agreed to the merger! You can't just throw me out!"
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"I can," Alexander whispered, his deep, raspy voice sending a chill straight down her spine. "And if you are not off my property in exactly ten minutes, my men will not be escorting you to a car. They will be escorting you to the basement."
Veronica’s face became overwhelmingly frightened. The absolute, unyielding certainty in Alexander’s eyes told her he was not bluffing. The powerful Mafia boss had returned, and she had just become an enemy.
