Chapter 3
Behind several heavy evening wraps hanging neatly on the polished wooden hangers, something caught the blue museum light. Suspended awkwardly by thin fastening straps was a floral padded pregnancy belly—an exact replica in shape, contour, and size to the heavy silhouette beneath Genevieve’s extravagant ocean-blue silk gown.
The truth hung exposed in the damp museum air, undeniable and grotesque, mocking every polite smile and charitable pretense the gala had been built upon. The grand illusion of Cameron's growing family, the very reason Genevieve had been accepted into the inner circle, was nothing more than a carefully constructed prop.
"Genevieve..." Cameron whispered, his voice cracking as he looked back and forth between the padded fake belly in the closet and the one his girlfriend was currently wearing. "What is this? Tell me this is some kind of sick joke. Please tell me this isn't real."
Genevieve panicked. "Cameron, let me explain! It's not what it looks like!" With a desperate, choking gasp, she lunged forward, her silver heels clicking frantically against the hardwood floor. She quickly reached toward Maya, attempting to snatch the child away or silence her before the deception could be fully processed by the surrounding capos. "You stupid little brat, shut up!"
Before her manicured hands could even graze the child, Dominic stepped between Genevieve and his granddaughter, his imposing frame blocking the frantic woman completely. He moved with a speed that belied his sixty-one years.
"Step back," Dominic said, his voice dead calm, sending a chill down the spine of every guest in the room.
"Dominic, please, listen to me," Genevieve pleaded, tears streaming down her face, ruining her perfect makeup. "I can explain everything. Please, just give me a chance to speak! It was for the family!"
Preston, realizing that exposure meant total ruin for his family's syndicate ambitions, reacted with violent desperation. "Shut up, Genevieve! And you," Preston sneered, turning his panicked rage toward Dominic. "You've always looked down on us! You never respected our family, even when we bled for you!"
With a snarl of rage, Preston lunged forward. He grabbed Dominic’s shoulder from behind and swung a vicious, haymaker punch aimed squarely at the older man's jaw, intending to drop him right in front of the guests to create a distraction for an escape.
"Look out!" a woman in the crowd yelled, screaming in pure terror.
But Dominic was a veteran of a hundred silent wars. With effortless, terrifying ease, Dominic slipped the punch, ducking beneath Preston’s swinging arm as if moving through slow motion.
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Before Preston could recover his balance or pull his arm back, Dominic unleashed a devastating counter. He drove one explosive, lightning-fast counterpunch squarely across Preston’s face. The sickening crunch of bone echoing against the thick glass of the aquarium wall sent a physical shudder through the crowd. Preston’s eyes rolled back as the sheer kinetic force lifted him entirely off his feet, sending him spinning backward into a rolling dive-equipment case.
The heavy metal case rocketed sideways across the polished floor with a deafening screech. Soft fins, diving masks, and regulators spilled in a chaotic cascade across the plush carpet. Preston crashed down heavily beside the overturned case, sprawling motionless among the tangled straps and rubber gear, completely unconscious.
