Chapter 3 - The Master's Wrath
"How dare you!"
A voice like thunder shattered the foyer. It was a roar of pure, unadulterated masculine rage, so loud that the crystal prisms on the ceiling chandelier hummed in resonance.
From the grand mahogany staircase at the far side of the hall, a man came charging down the steps two at a time.
It was Richard Sterling.
He was forty years old, broad-shouldered and impeccably dressed in a dark blue navy suit, a crisp white shirt, and a dark silk tie. His dark hair was silvering slightly at the temples, framing a handsome, rugged face that was currently contorted in a mask of absolute fury.
Richard closed the thirty-foot gap across the foyer in seconds. He didn't slow down as he reached Victoria. He shoved his arm between her shoulder and the cane, driving his broad frame into her chest with enough force to send her staggering back three paces, her leather boots squeaking violently on the stone.
In the same fluid motion, Richard dropped to one knee, wrapping his arms around Leo. He pulled the terrified four-year-old tightly against his blue navy jacket, cradling the back of the boy's head with his broad palm as Leo buried his wet face into his father's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Daddy! Daddy!" Leo wailed, his small arms locking around Richard's neck in an iron grip.
"Shh... I'm here, Leo. I've got you. Daddy's got you," Richard rasped, his voice shaking with a mixture of profound relief and terrifying anger. He rubbed the boy's back, kissing his wet temple repeatedly while his eyes remained locked on the woman standing before him.
Victoria backed up against one of the massive white pillars, her chest heaving beneath her black leather mini dress. She adjusted her gold shoulder pads with a sharp flick of her wrist, though her hands were trembling slightly as she leaned on her ebony cane.
Richard stood up slowly, keeping Leo anchored safely against his hip. He towered over Victoria, his dark hazel eyes burning with a lethal intensity that seemed to shrink the room around them.
"How dare you put your hands on my son," Richard whispered, his tone dropping into a dangerous, vibrating frequency that was far more terrifying than his initial scream.
May you like
"Richard, listen to me—" Victoria began, her voice trying to regain its smooth, manipulative cadence.
"You must leave this house tonight," Richard cut her off, pointing a heavy, trembling finger directly at the glass double doors behind her. "Pack your bags. Get out of my sight before I kill you with my bare hands."
