Chapter 4 - The Father’s Judgment
Leo Casaro stopped two feet in front of his son. The silence that fell over the ballroom was agonizing. It was the silence of a pending execution.
Nico was trembling. The arrogant, untouchable heir was reduced to a sweating, pathetic boy in a custom tuxedo. "Pop... Dad, listen. It was just a joke. It was just locker-room talk with the guys. I wasn't going to actually—"
SMACK.
The sound of Leo’s heavy, ring-adorned hand striking his son's face echoed like a gunshot. Nico stumbled backward, crashing into a cocktail table and sending shattered glass and champagne raining across the marble floor. He clutched his bleeding jaw, looking up at his father in absolute terror.
"You do not speak," Leo commanded, his voice vibrating with a terrifying, contained fury. "You have disgraced this family. You have disgraced our name. But worst of all, you have disgraced the daughter of a man who took a bullet meant for my heart."
Leo turned slightly, addressing the breathless crowd of hundreds.
"Myra’s father saved my life," Leo announced, ensuring every single person in the room understood my protected status. "I paid his medical bills because it was my honor to do so. My son decided to use my gratitude as a weapon to prey on an innocent woman. He is no longer acting on my authority."
Leo looked back down at Nico, who was scrambling to his knees, tears of pain and humiliation streaming down his face.
"You are stripped of your title in the family business," Leo stated coldly, delivering the ultimate death sentence to Nico’s ego. "Your trust fund is frozen. Your access to the offshore accounts is revoked. You will pack a single bag tonight, and my men will put you on a plane to our associates in Sicily. You will work in the warehouses until you learn what it means to be a man of honor. If I see your face in Brooklyn before I send for you, I will not treat you as a son. I will treat you as a liability."
Nico began to sob, crawling forward to grab the hem of his father's trousers. "No! Pop, please! You can't send me away! I'm your heir!"
"You are a disappointment," Leo corrected, kicking his leg free. He gestured to two massive security guards standing by the doors. "Get him out of my sight."
The guards hoisted the weeping, struggling Nico to his feet and dragged him brutally through the crowd. As he passed me, he didn't look angry; he looked entirely broken. I didn't flinch. I watched him disappear through the oak doors, erased from the empire he thought he owned.
Leo then turned his chilling gaze toward Chloe. She let out a pathetic squeak of terror, shrinking back against the wall.
"And you," Leo said to her. "You are a parasite who feeds on the misery of better women. If you are ever seen within a five-mile radius of Myra or her family again, I will ensure you disappear completely. Guards. Throw the trash out."
Chloe didn't even protest. She sprinted for the exit before the guards could even touch her, her silver sequins flashing under the lights as she ran out into the freezing Brooklyn night without a coat.
May you like
I stood in the center of the ballroom, the silence heavy and absolute. Leo Casaro turned to me, his terrifying demeanor softening just a fraction. He reached out, gently took the stack of ten thousand dollars from my hand, and placed it on a passing waiter's tray.
"You don't need his cheap money, Myra," Leo said softly. "You have my respect."
