Chapter 2 - The Farewell Brunch
The oceanfront terrace of the Ritz-Carlton was bathed in golden Sunday morning sunlight. Waiters in crisp white shirts carried silver trays of mimosas and caviar. Victoria Vargas sat at the head of the grand table, draped in a lavender silk dress, laughing loudly with her five sisters.
Diego sat beside his mother, checking his Rolex, looking mildly annoyed. "She should be here by now," he muttered. "If she thinks pouting in the bridal suite is going to change anything, she's mistaken."
"Let her sulk, darling," Victoria purred, sipping her champagne. "A little isolation works wonders for compliance. By tonight, she will be begging for a pen to sign that Boca Raton deed."
The heavy glass doors of the terrace swung open, but it wasn't Isabella who walked through.
It was Marcus.
He wore a tailored charcoal suit, his presence commanding the space so completely that the string quartet in the corner faltered and stopped playing. Four massive security guards flanked him.
Victoria’s arrogant smile froze. She recognized him immediately from the society pages, though they had never formally met.
"Marcus," Victoria said, standing up, trying to recover her aristocratic poise. "What a surprise. We were just waiting for Isabella to join us for the farewell brunch. I assume she called you?"
Marcus didn't blink. He walked slowly to the table, stopping directly in front of Diego. Diego stood up, puffing out his chest, trying to look intimidating.
"Mr. Thorne," Diego said, using Marcus's last name. "Isabella is my wife now. This is a private family event."
Marcus reached out with terrifying speed, grabbed Diego by the silk tie, and slammed his face down into the center of the lavishly set table. Crystal shattered. Women screamed. Diego groaned in agony, blood pouring from his nose.
"Marcus!" Victoria shrieked, lunging forward.
Marcus's security detail stepped in, blocking her path with bodies like brick walls.
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Marcus leaned down, his mouth inches from Diego’s bleeding ear. "You stood in a hallway while your mother beat my daughter," he whispered, his voice vibrating with lethal intent. "You told her to avoid the face."
He released Diego, who slumped to the floor, gasping. Marcus turned his dead eyes to Victoria. "Enjoy your brunch, Victoria. It is the last meal you will ever eat as a wealthy woman."
