Chapter 1
The mahogany dining table shook violently under Julian’s heavy fist, sending crystal water goblets tumbling onto the imported Persian rug. Elena blinked against the shock, her breath catching in her throat as silver cutlery scattered across the pristine white tablecloth. The surrounding dining room fell into an eerie, suffocating silence, save for the hum of the crystal chandelier overhead. Julian’s chest heaved beneath his tailored black tuxedo, his face flushed with a terrifying blend of rage and panic.
Elena raised a white linen napkin to her right ear, pressing the cloth gently against the throbbing heat. When she pulled it away, a smear of bright crimson stained the fabric.
She looked up at him through tear-welled eyes, her voice barely a whisper above the ringing in her ears.
“You shouldn't have done that.”
At the head of the table, Evelyn adjusted her diamond necklace, her fingers trembling slightly despite her best efforts to maintain a mask of aristocratic calm. Her sharp, experienced eyes swept over the wreckage of the table before landing squarely on her son.
“Who were you calling?” Evelyn asked, her voice laced with a mixture of maternal concern and deep-seated disapproval.
Julian ignored his mother completely, his dark eyes locked onto Elena’s phone, which still glowed softly against the polished wood. With a sudden, violent lunge, he snatched the device out of her hands, his fingers digging into the casing as he shouted with intense frustration.
“Put the phone down!”
Elena stared down at her empty palms for a brief second, feeling the phantom weight of the device slip away. She looked back up, her gaze hardening into a look of absolute, unyielding seriousness.
“Dad,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the heavy air like a scalpel.
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Julian froze, the screen of the stolen phone illuminating his panicked face in the dimly lit room. He stared at his daughter, the blood draining completely from his complexion as he realized the call hadn't been disconnected.
The speaker on the phone crackled to life in his grip, broadcasting a familiar, heavy breathing sound from the other end of the line.
