Chapter 36
[ 510 words ]
Chapter 36:
“Tell me, Cornelia,” Jarrod said. His voice was incredibly soft, barely more than a whisper, but it cut through the room like a razor blade. “When exactly did you start moonlighting as a high-end pimp?”
The insult was brutal. It was coarse, filthy, and completely shattered the veneer of high-society elegance.
Cornelia’s face exploded into a mottled, furious purple. She slammed both hands onto the table and vaulted out of her chair.
“How dare you!” she shrieked, her voice echoing off the crystal chandelier. “You arrogant, ungrateful bastard! I am trying to secure your future!”
“Enough!”
𝗦аvе уоu𝗋 𝗳𝖺vo𝗋i𝘁𝖾 𝗻𝗈𝘷𝖾𝘭𝗌 on 𝗴a𝘭nоv𝖾ls.𝖼𝗈𝗺
Augustus roared. He grabbed his heavy silver-headed cane and slammed it down onto the hardwood floor with a force that made the silverware rattle against the plates.
The patriarch glared at Jarrod, his chest heaving. “You will watch your tongue in this house! This is not a request, Jarrod. It is a strategic necessity. You will marry the Vance girl. It is the best possible move for the Romero empire.”
Jarrod’s eyes darkened to the color of wet asphalt. The lazy indifference vanished, replaced by the lethal, coiled energy of a predator ready to strike.
He stood up.
He didn’t just stand; he unfolded his massive, six-foot-three frame, towering over the table. The harsh light from the chandelier caught the sharp angles of his face, casting deep, menacing shadows across his eyes. He radiated a suffocating, violent dominance that instantly made the massive dining room feel like a claustrophobic cell.
He planted his left hand flat on the table and leaned forward, bringing his face closer to his grandfather.
“My men,” Jarrod growled, his voice vibrating with a raw, suppressed fury, “are bleeding out in the dirt in foreign countries. They die following my orders. Do you honestly think I give a single damn about your aerospace contracts? Do you think I will let you use my life to buy a few extra votes on Capitol Hill?”
Augustus’s face turned a dangerous shade of red. He pointed a trembling finger directly at Jarrod’s face.
“You listen to me, boy,” Augustus spat. “Everything you have, the clothes on your back, the blood in your veins, belongs to this family. If you refuse this marriage, I will strip you of everything. I will cut you out of the will. I will disinherit you completely.”
Jarrod stared at the angry old man. For a second, there was absolute silence.
Then, Jarrod laughed.
It was a dark, hollow, terrifying sound that held absolutely zero humor. It scraped against the walls of the room.
“Disinherit me?” Jarrod mocked, shaking his head slowly. “Keep your rotting money, old man. The rank on my shoulder, the clearance I hold, the power I wield—I built that myself. I carved it out of the mud and the blood while you sat in this museum drinking scotch.”
He straightened up, his chest expanding. “My marriage is not a bargaining chip. And it is certainly not subject to your approval.”
Jarrod reached down with his left hand. He grabbed the heavy, pristine white linen napkin from the table.
With a violent flick of his wrist, he threw it down.
.
.
.
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.