Chapter 1 - The Penthouse After Midnight
The warm golden glow of the crystal chandeliers illuminated the sprawling penthouse suite overlooking the city skyline, but the atmosphere inside was cold as ice. White wedding flowers, half-empty champagne flutes, and satin ribbons still cluttered the marble tables from the extravagant reception held just hours before.
Jessi Vance stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, still wearing her fitted white lace wedding gown. Her dark brown hair was pinned in a sophisticated bridal updo, framing a face that was strikingly calm, intelligent, and fair. Beside her stood her new husband, Luca Vance—a mid-thirties heir with sharp features, a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, and an arrogant demeanor that had only grown insufferable as the night wore on.
Across the room, near an ornate marble console table, stood Arthur Vance, the cold, domineering patriarch of the Vance family, and his wife, Patricia. Patricia, wearing a shimmering silver evening gown, looked frail and emotionally exhausted.
Without warning, the quiet tension in the room exploded.
Arthur raised his broad hand and struck Patricia hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed through the cavernous suite. Patricia staggered backward against the marble console, her delicate hand rushing to cover her bruised cheek as tears welled in her eyes.
"Are you hurt?" Jessi asked, her voice cutting through the room like a blade as she immediately stepped forward.
Before Jessi could reach Patricia, Arthur stepped in her path, his broad frame creating an intimidating wall. Simultaneously, Luca grabbed Jessi's arm with an iron grip, yanking her back.
"This is a family matter," Arthur said coldly, his dark eyes void of any remorse.
Jessi pulled her arm free from Luca's grasp with a swift, calculated motion and tried to push past Arthur. But Luca stepped in front of her again, his face flushed with sudden, vicious anger. He raised his hand and slapped Jessi hard across the cheek.
"Know your place, you useless outsider," Luca hissed, leaning into her face with a cruel smirk.
He expected her to cry. He expected her to shrink back in fear like his mother always did.
Instead, Jessi didn't even flinch.
Before Luca could pull his hand back, Jessi’s eyes sharpened into liquid steel. Moving with terrifying speed and surgical precision, she caught Luca’s wrist mid-air, shifting her weight and twisting his hand outward in one continuous, fluid motion.
SNAP.
Three of Luca’s fingers bent backward at an impossible angle.
Luca let out a blood-curdling shriek of pain as his knees buckled beneath him. He collapsed onto the hardwood floor, clutching his broken hand against his chest, gasping for air as tears streamed down his face.
Arthur gasped, stepping back in shock, his cold arrogance instantly shattering as he stared at his son writhing on the floor.
May you like
Jessi adjusted the lace sleeve of her wedding dress, her expression completely untroubled as she looked down at her screaming husband. She stepped over him without a second glance and walked straight toward Patricia, whose eyes were wide with utter disbelief.
"Come with me, Patricia," Jessi said softly, extending her hand. "Your life as their victim ends tonight."
