Chapter 6
The sound of dripping champagne and the soft weeping of Lucy were the only noises cutting through the thick silence of the terrace. Ramona Carbone stared at the wreckage of Marcus, her calculating, cold composure completely shattered. The reality of what she had provoked was finally dawning on her. She had challenged a monster, and the monster had simply swatted her champion aside like an insect.
Panic, blinding and irrational, took over. She realized she was entirely exposed on the low viewing platform. Lorenzo was staring at her with eyes that promised nothing but destruction.
"You... you animal!" Ramona shrieked, her voice cracking in pure hysteria.
Instead of running away, the terror broke her mind. She lunged forward off the platform, her luxurious cream dress billowing around her. She wasn't aiming for Lorenzo; she bypassed his massive frame entirely, reaching out with her manicured hands, aiming directly for Alina and the crying child. It was a desperate, mad attempt to use them as a shield, or perhaps just to inflict one last moment of pain.
Lorenzo reacted with liquid, terrifying speed.
He took a quick half-step backward, ensuring Alina had a firm grip on Lucy. He handed the child’s safety entirely over to his wife with a brief, protective push, moving them completely out of the line of fire.
As Ramona closed the distance, screaming obscenities, Lorenzo’s heavy right arm shot out. He didn't throw a closed fist this time. He caught her extended arm with his left hand, stopping her momentum instantly with his heavy forearms. Her body jerked violently to a halt.
Then, Lorenzo drew his right hand back and delivered one thunderous, hard slap across Ramona’s face.
The impact was shocking, ringing out across the Connecticut estate. The force behind the open-handed strike from the dense, battle-worn boxer lifted Ramona completely off her feet. She spun violently backward, her high heels twisting uselessly beneath her.
She crashed hard into a row of upholstered chairs set up near the dining tables. The heavy wooden chairs tipped and scattered, sending her tumbling onto the carpeted floor. Her elegant cream dress tangled around her legs, her heavy jewelry clattering against the wood.
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No dialogue was spoken.
Ramona lay gasping on the floor, clutching her rapidly swelling, crimson-stained cheek. Her eyes were wide with profound shock and agonizing pain. The cold, calculating woman was gone, replaced by a broken, terrified relative who had finally realized she could not out-manipulate physical violence. Lorenzo stood over her, his chest rising and falling slowly, his large fighter's hands hanging loosely at his sides, ready to strike again if she even twitched aggressively.
