Chapter 118
[ 484 words ]
Chapter 118:
Finch physically flinched. He quickly snapped his eyes back to the front, a cold bead of sweat forming on his brow. The butler realized instantly that the Colonel had not brought a lamb into the house; he had brought a loaded weapon.
They reached the end of the corridor.
Looming in front of them were the massive, fourteen-foot-tall double oak doors of the main living hall. The Romero family crest was carved deeply into the wood. Faint golden light spilled from the crack beneath the doors, along with the muffled sounds of clinking crystal and polite laughter.
Finch stopped in front of the brass handles. He turned around.
“Colonel,” Finch said, lowering his voice to a cautious whisper. “The General is currently seated with Senator Vance and his family. The atmosphere is… highly expectant. I strongly advise discretion.”
Jarrod heard the name “Vance.” A dark, cruel smile twisted his lips. He knew exactly what trap the old man had set.
Jarrod ignored the butler. He turned his body toward Caroline. He released her hand and wrapped his thick left arm entirely around her waist, yanking her flush against his uninjured side.
He leaned down. His lips brushed against the shell of her ear.
“Are you ready to burn their fantasy to the ground, Mrs. Romero?” Jarrod whispered, his voice vibrating with dark excitement.
𝖥o𝗅𝗅𝘰𝘸 𝘂s 𝘰𝘯 𝗴𝘢𝗹ո𝗈𝘃𝘦𝗹s.c𝘰𝗺
Caroline took a deep breath. Her spine locked into perfect alignment. She lifted her chin, pasting a flawless, aristocratic smile onto her lips. Her operative switch flipped to maximum lethality.
“Always, Colonel,” Caroline replied smoothly.
Jarrod’s eyes burned with absolute worship. He turned his head and glared at the butler.
“Open the doors,” Jarrod ordered.
Finch hesitated for half a second. But the terrifying, crushing pressure radiating from Jarrod left him no choice. Finch grabbed both brass handles and pushed hard.
Inside the main hall, the atmosphere was thick with fake joy.
General Augustus Romero, an eighty-year-old tyrant with eyes like a hawk, sat in the center of a massive leather sofa. He held a thick Cuban cigar between his fingers.
Sitting across from him was Eleanor Vance, blushing furiously, while her mother, Marcy, practically vibrated with excitement. Cornelia stood behind the sofa, her face glowing with victory.
The General took a slow drag of his cigar. He looked at Eleanor. He opened his mouth, preparing to officially announce the union between the two powerful families.
At that exact millisecond, the heavy oak doors exploded open.
BANG.
The massive doors slammed against the interior walls with a deafening crash. The sound echoed like a gunshot through the cavernous room.
The string quartet stopped playing instantly. The cellist jumped, hitting a horrible, screeching sour note.
Every single head in the room—nearly two hundred of Washington’s most powerful elites—snapped toward the entrance.
Jarrod Romero stood in the doorway. He looked like an absolute god of destruction. His presence sucked the air out of the room.
But it wasn’t the Colonel that made the crowd stop breathing.
It was the woman standing next to him.
.
.
.
If you find any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.