Chapter 1 - The Broken Glass
Inside the exclusive luxury private dining room, under glowing chandeliers and surrounded by marble floors, Madison Cole painfully squeezed elderly Margaret Weston’s shoulder at the table. Margaret winced in silent pain, her eyes filling with helpless tears.
Before Madison could press harder, the Waitress stepped firmly between them, holding a round silver tray in her hands.
“Don’t touch her again,” the Waitress said in a low, firm voice.
Madison’s eyes flared with rage. She jerked back abruptly, dramatically flinging her arms out. She stumbled backward, crashing onto the marble floor as a crystal water glass shattered beside her long-sleeved red wrap dress.
At that exact moment, Garrett Weston stepped into the dining room. Tall, broad, in a black unbuttoned dress shirt with full arm and neck tattoos, his presence immediately froze the room.
“Garrett! She attacked me!” Madison cried out, her voice trembling with theatrical panic as she pointed up from the floor.
The Waitress held her silver tray close to her chest, standing protectively near the trembling elderly mother. “I was only protecting your mother, sir.”
Garrett stood tall, his ice-blue eyes shifting calmly from Madison sprawling on the marble floor to the quiet waitress. His expression remained unreadable.
“Everybody back to work,” Garrett ordered in a cold, commanding tone. He looked straight at the Waitress. “You—go home for the night.”
Late that night, deep inside the estate’s dark security room, blue light illuminated Garrett’s hardened face as he rewound six months of surveillance footage.
“Let’s see what really happened...” Garrett whispered to himself.
The high-definition camera paused on a clear frame. Under the white tablecloth, Madison was secretly pinching Margaret’s delicate wrist until it turned blue.
“You put your hands on my mother...” Garrett uttered in a dark, lethal whisper.
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On the screen, Margaret’s mouth trembled as she looked straight into a hidden camera, silently mouthing two words: Help me.
👉 Garrett’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure steel as he made a quiet, decisive vow: “Tomorrow, Madison is finished.”
