Chapter 8

Warren knelt on the shattered porcelain, ignoring the sharp edges cutting into his tailored pants. He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and frantically wiped the cold sweat pouring down his forehead.

"Mr. Suarez... Donovan, please," Warren stammered, his voice shaking violently. "It's a misunderstanding. A terrible mistake."

Warren whipped his head around and glared up at the second floor.

"Dock!" Warren roared, his vocal cords straining. "Get down here right now and apologize to Mr. Suarez!"

Dock gripped the wooden railing. He was spoiled, arrogant, and completely ignorant of the power dynamics in the room. He didn't know who Donovan was. He only saw a guy in a suit who had ruined his fun.

"Why should I apologize?" Dock yelled back, kicking the railing with his sneaker. "He got in the way! It's just a stupid watch. Tell him we'll buy him ten new ones!"

Warren's eyes rolled back in his head. He looked like he was about to have a massive heart attack. His chest heaved as he struggled to breathe.

Elvie sensed the catastrophic danger. She dropped to her knees next to Warren and grabbed his arm.

"Warren, do something!" she cried.

Warren backhanded her.

The slap echoed through the foyer like a gunshot. Elvie fell hard onto the marble floor, clutching her stinging cheek. She stared at her husband in absolute shock.

"Shut your mouth!" Warren screamed at her. "You raised that idiot!"

Karrie let out a high-pitched scream and pressed herself flat against the wall, terrified.

Donovan watched the domestic violence play out with absolute boredom. His face was a mask of cold stone.

Preston Vance finally stepped fully into the foyer. He looked at the chaos, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

Preston walked up to Donovan and looked down at the scratched watch. He let out a loud, exaggerated gasp.

Preston tilted his head and looked up at Dock. His voice was dripping with fake pity.

"Buy ten of them?" Preston asked loudly. "Kid, that is a custom Patek Philippe. It is a one-of-a-kind piece. It sold at Sotheby's for over ten million dollars."

The number hung in the air.

Ten million dollars.

Dock's face went completely slack. The arrogant sneer vanished, replaced by a look of sheer, unadulterated horror. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the carpeted floor of the landing.

Ten million dollars was more than half of the Hayes family's yearly profit.

Preston wasn't finished. "But more importantly, that watch belonged to Mr. Suarez's late grandfather. Its sentimental value is... well, it's priceless."

Elvie let out a loud, ugly sob. She curled into a ball on the floor. She finally realized her precious son had just destroyed their entire lives.

Celina stood behind Donovan. She raised an eyebrow. Ten million dollars. She looked at Donovan's broad shoulders. She knew exactly what he was doing. He was using his insane wealth and power to crush them for her.

Warren crawled forward on his knees.

"Mr. Suarez, I will liquidate assets. I will pay you back every cent," Warren begged, tears streaming down his face.

Donovan looked down at Warren. He slowly, methodically unclasped the leather strap of the ruined watch and pulled it off his wrist.

"The Suarez family does not need your money," Donovan said. His voice was freezing.

Donovan lifted his eyes. His gaze shot past Warren and pinned Dock to the floor on the second level.

"Since that hand likes to throw things," Donovan stated, his tone flat and absolute. "I will take the hand as payment."

The bloody implication in his words made the temperature in the room drop below zero.

Dock screamed. He scrambled backward like a crab, trying to get away from the railing.

Elvie shrieked. She scrambled up the stairs on her hands and knees, crying hysterically, trying to shield her son.

The Hayes family's dignity was completely annihilated.

Celina watched the people who had tortured her in her past life crying and begging like pathetic animals. A dark, intense wave of satisfaction washed through her veins.