Chapter 1 - The War Room
Marcus didn’t speak for a long time. The silence in my living room was deafening, broken only by Chloe’s ragged breathing. He didn't pace. He didn't yell. Instead, he pulled a specialized medical kit from his tactical bag—the kind field medics use in active combat zones. With practiced, terrifyingly calm precision, he began cleaning the cut above Chloe’s eye.
“Dad,” she whispered, flinching slightly at the sting of the antiseptic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”
“Stop,” Marcus said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that left no room for argument. “You have nothing to apologize for, Chloe. The people who did this, however, have a very short time left on this earth as they know it.”
He looked up at me, his eyes devoid of the warmth I once loved, replaced entirely by the cold calculation of a strategist. “Sarah, you didn’t call the police. Good. The local precinct is likely in Isabella’s pocket. The Vargas family didn’t build their wealth by playing fair. We aren't going to either.”
He bandaged Chloe’s wrists, his jaw tight. I watched my ex-husband transform back into General Vance. This wasn't about a messy divorce anymore; this was about protecting our only child.
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“What’s the play?” I asked, crossing my arms to hide my own trembling.
“They want a war over real estate? We’ll give them a scorched-earth campaign,” Marcus replied, pulling out a secure satellite phone. “By morning, Isabella and Mateo will realize they didn’t just beat a bride. They awakened a nightmare.”
