Chapter 2 - The Price of Arrogance
The knock at the penthouse door wasn't desperate. It was entitled.
Elias Vance didn't blink. He stood over me, his silhouette casting a long shadow, before he turned toward the door. He didn't carry a gun in his hand; he didn't need to. He moved with the terrifying grace of a man who owned the air in the room.
"Stay," he commanded. It wasn't a request.
I pulled the blanket tighter, my heart hammering against my ribs. I heard the lock turn.
Marcus stood in the hallway, flanked by two of his own hired muscle—men who looked like bouncers, not soldiers. When he saw Elias, his face went pale, his arrogance visibly crumbling like dry mortar. He hadn't expected to find the city's most feared man behind the door.
"Vance," Marcus stammered, trying to regain his footing. "I... I'm here for my wife. And my children. There’s been a misunderstanding."
Elias leaned against the doorframe, his eyes scanning Marcus with surgical indifference. "A misunderstanding," Elias repeated, his voice silky and dangerous. "You mean the part where you beat a woman who had just given birth, or the part where you left two newborns to freeze on the concrete?"
Marcus swallowed hard. "They're my property. My family."
Elias stepped forward, closing the distance instantly. The atmosphere in the hallway tightened. "They were your responsibility. You discarded them like trash. In this city, trash gets collected, but it doesn't get returned."
"You don't understand," Marcus hissed, his voice rising. "I need them. There are documents—"
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Elias grabbed Marcus by the collar and slammed him against the opposite wall. The sound echoed through the penthouse. "If you ever look at this door again, I will not bury you. I will dismantle everything you have ever touched, piece by piece. Do you understand?"
Marcus went limp, his eyes wide with horror. Elias released him, and Marcus scrambled backward, running toward the elevators, leaving his "muscle" behind. They didn't even try to help him. They knew who Elias was.
