Chapter 6 - The Lethal Question
Marcus didn't blink. He slowly stood up from the marble floor, leaving Sophie to support the frail woman.
He stepped directly into Vivian's personal space, towering over her. His massive chest heaved with restrained emotion, his breath hot and ragged. The sheer, overwhelming dominance of his presence made Vivian’s fake smile completely collapse. She suddenly realized she wasn't talking to her wealthy fiancé anymore; she was staring down the barrel of a ruthless mafia executioner.
His expression showed pure, unfiltered fury and profound disbelief.
"Vivian..." Marcus whispered, his voice a dark, intense vibration that made her bones shake. "...why would you stop her from getting help?"
"She's a nobody!" Vivian hissed defensively, her true, ugly colors finally showing. "Marcus, look at her! She's wearing off-the-rack polyester! She bumped into me in the hallway and scuffed my designer heels! I wasn't about to let her ruin our night by dying in the middle of our ballroom!"
Marcus stared at her, the cinematic tension reaching a breaking point.
"A nobody," Marcus repeated, his voice completely hollow.
He slowly reached into his suit jacket, pulling out a sleek two-way radio. He pressed the button. "Medical team. Ballroom corner. Now. We have a Code Red stroke."
He clipped the radio back to his belt, his eyes completely dead as he looked at the woman in the red dress.
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"That 'nobody'," Marcus said, his voice dropping into a chilling, lethal quiet, "is my mother."
👉 Vivian’s arrogance was about to shatter into a million pieces, but the darkest secret of the night hadn't even been revealed yet.
