THE BILLIONAIRE’S MERCILESS REVENGE

Salvatore released Lucinda’s wrist with a disgusted flick, as if letting go of something toxic. He reached out, pulled the micro-SD card from the console slot, and handed the evidence back to his lead bodyguard with a sharp nod.

“You wanted her to learn pain,” Salvatore said, turning his entire body to face Lucinda, his eyes burning with absolute, unforgiving wrath.

His voice hardened, echoing off the imported marble pillars and sending shivers down the spines of every guest present.

“Now learn consequences.”

Before Lucinda could stammer another syllable of denial, four heavy-set private security operatives materialized from the perimeter of the ballroom, their dark suits and grim expressions signaling the end of her reign of terror. They didn't ask her to leave; they gripped her arms with professional, unyielding precision.

“Get your hands off me! Do you know who my family is? My father will ruin you, Salvatore! You can't do this to me!” Lucinda shrieked, kicking and thrashing as she was dragged backward across the polished floor, her designer emerald gown tearing against the shattered glass of the champagne flute.

The double doors of the ballroom swung open to reveal flashing red and blue lights painting geometric patterns across the entryway. Local police officers, alerted automatically by Salvatore’s priority corporate security link, stood waiting on the steps.

“Take her into custody,” Salvatore ordered the lead officer as Lucinda was hauled past the threshold. “Charge her with felony child abuse, intentional infliction of emotional distress, and corporate stalking under false pretenses. Ensure she is held without bail.”

The heavy mahogany doors slammed shut, cutting off Lucinda’s frantic, hysterical screams as she was hauled away in steel handcuffs.

The ballroom remained dead silent. The high-society elites who had curried favor with Lucinda just an hour ago now stared at the floor, terrified to catch Salvatore’s eye, knowing that anyone who crossed his family had just signed their own social and financial death warrant.

Salvatore didn't care about them. He knelt back down, setting the projector controls to black, and focused entirely on the small, trembling girl in his arms.