Chapter 4 - THE INTERROGATION OF THE WOLFCarmen’s face tightened, though a flicker of genuine panic finally danced behind her heavily made-up eyes. She looked past me, expecting hotel security or police sirens. All she saw behind me were four of my elite enforcers blocking the doorway, their massive frames cutting off every possible exit.
“You’re out of your depth, Brooks,” Carmen hissed, pointing a manicured finger right at my chest. “This is a domestic dispute! A family matter! Your sister agreed to the terms—”
“My sister agreed to marry a man she thought loved her,” I interrupted, my voice dropping an octave, ringing with absolute finality. “She did not agree to be beaten by six vultures while her spineless husband stood outside checking his watch.”
Javier swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently. He tried to hide behind his mother, his voice trembling. “Alex… look, let’s be reasonable. It was just a misunderstanding. Mother got a little carried away—women can be emotional, you know how it is—and we just wanted to secure our assets—”
Before Javier could finish his pathetic excuse, my fist collided with his jaw with the force of a wrecking ball.
The crack of breaking bone echoed sharply through the luxurious suite. Javier spun through the air, crashing hard into a glass coffee table and sending shards flying in every direction. He lay there gasping, blood pouring from his nose, clutching his shattered jaw in agonizing shock.
“Javier!” Carmen shrieked, rushing toward her fallen son like a deranged hen. She whirled around to face me, her eyes wild with murderous hatred. “You animal! You broke his jaw! You’ll pay for this with your life—every judge in this state is in our pocket!”
“Let’s test that theory,” I said coldly, motioning to Marcus.
Marcus stepped forward, gripping Carmen firmly by the shoulders and forcing her down into a velvet armchair. She struggled violently, shrieking obscenities that would have made a sailor blush, but Marcus held her down with the immovable strength of a hydraulic press.
I crouched down next to Javier, who was whimpering on the floor, bleeding onto the expensive carpet. I grabbed him by his damp shirt collar, hauling him up until his face was inches from mine.
“You listened to her hit my sister forty times,” I whispered, my breath cold against his ear. “You counted the slaps. You worried about bruising her face because of the wedding photos.”
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Javier sobbed, shaking his head frantically. “I’m sorry… please… Alex… don’t kill me…”
“Kill you?” I let out a dry, chilling chuckle. “Death is far too kind for someone like you, Javier. Death is a release. What you’re going to get is a masterclass in total, absolute ruin.”
