Chapter 7
"Collateral," Dominic murmured, testing the word on his tongue as if it were poison.
He took a slow, deliberate step forward. His polished dark-brown leather shoes made a soft, ominous sound against the hardwood floor. His broad-shouldered frame seemed to expand, entirely dominating the space. The light stubble on his jaw bristled as his jaw tightened, the only outward sign of the immense violence brewing beneath his tailored charcoal-gray shirt.
"Let me explain the rules of my organization to you, Marcus," Dominic said, his voice dropping into a chilling, authoritative cadence. "We extort. We gamble. We control the ports. We destroy men who step into our arena. But we do not touch women. And we absolutely, under no circumstances, put our hands on children. Ever."
Marcus took another step back, his face slick with terror. "Boss, you don't understand, her father—"
"Roll up your sleeve," Dominic interrupted, his voice suddenly sharp as a blade.
Marcus blinked, utterly confused. "What?"
"Roll up your right sleeve, Marcus. Now," Dominic commanded, raising his own tattooed forearm and pointing a steady finger at the enforcer.
Trembling violently, Marcus reached over and clumsily pulled the sleeve of his navy suit jacket and turtleneck up past his wrist, exposing his forearm.
Dominic’s piercing gray-blue eyes scanned the man’s hand and wrist, noting the size, the thickness of the fingers, the heavy silver rings he wore. He then turned his head slightly, looking back at Lily, who was huddled in the velvet chair, staring in absolute terror at her abuser.
"Lily," Dominic said, his voice instantly softening, though the lethal edge remained beneath the surface. "Show me your arm again."
Lily hesitated. She looked at Rosa, who gave her an encouraging nod while holding the sleeping baby. With a shaking hand, Lily slowly pulled the sleeve of her oversized burgundy knit cardigan up, revealing the horrific, dark purple bruising encircling her fragile wrist.
Dominic looked at the child's bruised wrist, then looked back at Marcus's thick, ringed hand. The geometry of the violence was undeniable.
"You put your hands on a child," Dominic stated, the cold observation giving way to a localized, terrifying wrath. "You bruised her bone for a debt she didn't owe, and you chased her through the streets of my city."
"It was an accident!" Marcus yelled, his voice cracking in sheer panic. He raised his hands defensively. "She was fighting me! She was trying to run with the baby! I just grabbed her to stop her!"
"You grabbed her," Dominic repeated softly.
He didn't signal his guards. He didn't raise his voice. Dominic moved with the blinding, terrifying speed of a seasoned predator. In a single, fluid motion, he closed the distance between them, his massive tattooed hand shooting forward and wrapping entirely around Marcus’s throat.
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Marcus choked, his eyes bulging as the billionaire effortlessly lifted him onto his toes, pinning the enforcer's heavy frame in mid-air.
"You are going to learn what it feels like to be broken," Dominic whispered directly into Marcus's terrified face.
