Chapter 4 - The Impact
The air in the ballroom went entirely dead. The security guards hesitated for a fraction of a second, intimidated by the sheer width of Arthur’s shoulders and the deadly, unnatural calm that suddenly settled over his face.
Arthur didn't take a step back. He didn't blink. The matriarch’s finger was inches from his eyes, her screech still ringing in his ears, her utter lack of empathy burning a hole through his conscience.
With a sudden, violent movement that made several women in the front row shriek, Arthur raised his right arm and brought his massive fist down onto the long banquet table beside him.
BOOM!
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The force of the blow was cataclysmic. The solid mahogany table groaned as Arthur's fist smashed straight through a fine porcelain platter, shattering the dish into a thousand flying shards. A heavy crystal pitcher filled with deep red juice overturned instantly, exploding under the pressure and sending a thick, crimson spray flying across the snow-white tablecloth.
Red liquid splashed violently across the floor, soaking the hem of the older woman’s pristine silver sequin gown in deep red stains. Shards of porcelain clicked across the marble floor like scattered teeth. The entire room gasped, taking a collective step backward in total, breathless terror.
