Chapter 3 - The Blank Eyes of Survival
While Vanessa arrogantly adjusted her posture, Marcus’s eyes darted down to the floor.
Scattered across the gleaming marble were the shattered, jagged porcelain remains of a priceless antique vase. And right in the center of the dangerous shards was Dorothy.
The young brunette woman in the white apron shrank back heavily against the cold stone floor. Her small, delicate hand trembled slightly as she held it up, desperately shielding her face from the blow that she fully expected to come crashing down on her head.
But what terrified Marcus the most wasn't her shaking hands. It was her eyes.
Dorothy’s eyes had gone perfectly, completely blank. It wasn't the hysterical, panicked crying of someone experiencing violence for the very first time. It was a practiced, chilling survival response from a woman who was entirely used to hiding her fear, someone who had learned the hard way that screaming only made the punishment worse.
She was silently accepting the abuse, completely resigned to her horrific fate.
Marcus didn't scream. He didn't ask Vanessa for an explanation.
He moved.
With long, decisive, and incredibly powerful strides, Marcus marched across the grand foyer. He didn't hesitate for a single second. He physically placed his broad, tailored navy blue shoulders directly between his cruel fiancée and the terrified maid, forming an impenetrable, titanium shield.
His handsome face hardened with a quiet, lethal fury that completely changed the temperature of the entire room.
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"I watched you raise it," Marcus said, his voice dropping into a low, incredibly dangerous tone.
👉 Vanessa rolled her eyes at his anger, entirely unaware that her billionaire lifestyle was already burning to the ground.
