Chapter 2: Five Minutes to Midnight
"Five minutes?" Arthur laughed loudly, stepping down from the stage while holding his champagne flute. "Who is coming, Ava? The manager of the diner you used to work at? The social worker who raised you?"
The guests laughed again, but the humor felt forced now. I didn't say a word. I just stood my ground, staring at my husband and his father.
"Salem," his mother suddenly whispered, pulling frantically at Salem's sleeve. "Look at the front doors."
We all turned. The heavy oak doors of the ballroom hadn't been opened by the venue staff. They were pushed open by two towering men in tactical earpieces and charcoal suits. They didn't look like security. They looked like assassins.
And then, he walked in.
Harrison Vance. My father.
The glass in Arthur's hand slipped through his fingers, shattering loudly against the marble floor. Salem’s knees visibly shook.
"Is that... Harrison Vance?" Arthur stammered, his aristocratic arrogance evaporating in a single heartbeat.
My father didn't look at the crowd. He didn't look at Arthur. His razor-sharp, midnight-dark eyes scanned the room until they locked onto me. He saw the swelling on my left cheek. He saw the trace of blood on my lip.
The entire ballroom went so quiet you could hear the ice melting in the cocktail glasses.
"Ava," my father’s voice baritoned through the cavernous room, laced with a terrifying, quiet violence. "Who did that to your face?"
Salem stepped forward, his voice cracking like a terrified child's. "Mr. Vance... sir! I-I didn't know. It’s a family matter, she was being disrespectful to my father—"
My father didn't let him finish. He didn't even look at Salem. He just raised his hand and closed it into a fist.
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Before Salem could blink, one of my father's security guards slammed a heavy tactical boot into the back of Salem's knee. Salem crashed down onto the marble, his jaw hitting the floorboards with a sickening thud.
"You have exactly three minutes to explain to me," my father said, stepping over Salem’s groveling body as if he were a piece of stray trash, "why your family shouldn't be erased from this city by sunrise."
