Chapter 6 - SHATTERING THE ILLUSION
Vincent carefully slipped his strong, warm jacket off his shoulders and wrapped it gently around Lena’s shivering, bruised frame, taking extreme care not to brush her broken arm. The contrast between the cold, hostile apartment and the sudden safety of his presence was overwhelming. Lena buried her face in the fabric, letting out a ragged sob of pure relief.
Outside in the hallway, Marcus was being held pinned against the wall, thrashing helplessly in the grip of the enforcers.
"Let me go! You have no right!" Marcus screamed, his voice cracking with hysterical terror as he realized the magnitude of his mistake. "She's my wife! I can do whatever I want with her! It's none of your business!"
Vincent slowly rose to his feet. He turned around, walking out of the bathroom with a calm, measured stride that carried the terrifying weight of an executioner. He stopped a few feet away from Marcus, staring down at him with an expression of profound, quiet disgust.
"Your wife," Vincent repeated, the words rolling off his tongue like venom. "Is that what you call a woman you beat in the dark? Is that what you call someone whose bones you snap because your pathetic little ego couldn't handle a bad workday?"
"She... she provoked me!" Marcus stammered, sweat pouring down his forehead. "She's worthless! Ask anyone, she's a nobody!"
Vincent’s hand lashed out with lightning speed, grabbing Marcus by the throat and lifting him an inch off the floor. The enforcers held Marcus steady as Vincent squeezed just enough to cut off his breath, his dark eyes boring straight into Marcus's terrified soul.
"To you, she was a nobody," Vincent whispered, his voice dangerously low. "To me, she is the only person in this city who showed me genuine kindness when my life was at its darkest. You broke her arm. Tonight, we are going to return the favor—multiplied by a thousand."
Marcus’s eyes bulged in pure terror as he clawed at Vincent’s wrist, gasping for air. "Please... please, Mr. Moretti, I'll give you money! My company accounts, my savings—take everything!"
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Vincent let go with a sudden, violent shove, sending Marcus crashing hard onto the coffee table, shattering the glass top into a million glittering pieces.
"Keep your dirty money," Vincent said coldly, wiping his hand with a silk handkerchief. "Pack her things. We're leaving."
