Chapter 5 - The Wrath of the Underworld King
“Mommy!”
A high-pitched, desperate cry echoed through the cavernous foyer as four-year-old Leo sprinted across the marble floor.
The little boy bypassed the stunned crowd of executives and threw his arms around Norah, his big eyes filling with tears as he saw her bleeding hand.
Stepping through the grand entryway directly behind the child was Luca Castellano, flanked by four towering, stone-faced security operatives.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees the instant Luca crossed the threshold.
His tailored charcoal suit radiated quiet authority, but it was the cold, murderous fury in his obsidian eyes that paralyzed everyone present.
Luca’s gaze swept across the scene with terrifying precision: the scattered blue sapphires, the blood on the marble, Norah kneeling on the floor, and Vanessa standing frozen with her hand still half-raised.
“Take your hand off my wife.”
Luca’s voice was barely a whisper, yet it reverberated through the grand hall like a thunderclap, carrying the absolute weight of a death sentence.
Vanessa instinctively released the fraction of Norah’s wrist she was still touching, stumbling backward until the back of her legs hit a mahogany console table.
The two elite guards flanking Luca stepped forward with practiced menace, their hands hovering over their weapons, ready to tear the room apart on a single word.
Norah slowly raised her injured, bleeding palm, her voice cutting cleanly through the heavy tension in the room.
“Wait.”
The guards instantly froze mid-step, their rigid postures holding at absolute attention.
Luca stopped dead in his tracks as well, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek as he forced himself to obey her command.
Even in his blinding, murderous rage, Luca would never override Norah’s direct instruction.
Norah gently disengaged from weeping little Leo, using her clean hand to wipe away a smear of dust from her knee.
Her sharp financial eyes scanned the floor near Vanessa’s designer handbag, spotting the small white plastic card she had photographed earlier at the security gate.
“Elena,” Norah called out calmly, addressing one of her terrified colleagues standing near the edge of the crowd.
“Pick that up.”
Vanessa made a sudden, frantic movement toward the white access card, her face draining of all color.
Luca cast a single, lethal glance in Vanessa’s direction, and she instantly locked up, paralyzed by raw, primal fear.
Elena scrambled forward on shaking legs, carefully lifting the discarded white plastic card off the marble floor and handing it to Norah with trembling hands.
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Norah reached into her leather briefcase resting against the staircase and pulled out her comprehensive digital audit file.
“You wanted to know about stolen property, Vanessa?” Norah asked, her voice ringing out clearly across the silent hall as she held up the access card and the audit printouts.
