Chapter 2 - The Mask Slips
The atmosphere in the garage froze instantly. Julian’s mouth parted slightly, a flicker of genuine panic cutting through his arrogant facade before he managed to force a thin, incredulous laugh.
“Lena, honey, you’re in shock,” Julian said, taking a step forward while holding his hands up defensively. His eyes darted nervously toward my father. “The air bag must have scrambled your memory. Mr. Ortiz, you know how fragile she’s been since the promotion stress at work. She lost control, she hit the pillar, and she’s just… confused.”
Dad didn’t blink. He stood six feet two inches of solid, unyielding muscle and cold authority. He didn't yell, and he didn't throw a punch. Instead, he took two slow, deliberate steps toward Julian, invading his space until Julian had to tilt his head back slightly to maintain eye contact.
“Look at your hand, Julian,” Dad said quietly.
Julian’s gaze flicked down to his right hand. He instinctively curled his fingers into a fist, trying to hide the dark, swollen purple of his bruised knuckles. “I… I scraped it trying to pull her out of the wreckage. Helping her.”
“Is that so?” Dad’s voice was dangerously smooth. He turned his head slightly. “Marcus. Call the gate security. Tell them nobody leaves this property. Phones on the counter, now.”
Julian’s two friends immediately paled. One of them fumbled in his jacket pocket, pulling out an expensive smartphone and placing it trembling on a nearby workbench without a second thought. They knew Rafael Ortiz. Everyone in the city’s financial district knew what happened to people who crossed him.
“Mr. Ortiz, you’re making a mistake,” Julian snapped, his voice losing its veneer of warmth, the sharp, jagged edge of his true personality finally bleeding through. “We’re getting married in two months. My family name carries weight in this city. You can't just—slander me based on the hysterical claims of a rattled woman.”
“Hysterical?” Dad repeated the word like it tasted foul.
Before Julian could blink, Dad’s hand shot out with terrifying speed, grabbing the lapel of Julian’s immaculate designer suit. He didn’t lift him, but he yanked Julian forward so hard that Julian’s polished leather shoes skidded across the concrete floor. Julian gasped, his face turning pale as he found himself trapped in a grip of iron.
“Listen to me very carefully, son,” Dad whispered, his face inches from Julian’s. “That car was my brother’s. You destroyed it. You stepped foot on my property, you lied to my face, and worst of all, you laid your hands on my daughter. You are going to sit on that cold floor right now, and you are going to wait for the police and my lawyers. Because if you move an inch, I won't just ruin your career. I will take everything your family owns down to the studs.”
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Julian tried to pull away, but Dad’s grip was absolute. With a sharp shove, Dad sent Julian staggering backward until the back of his knees hit a wooden crate, forcing him down.
Dad turned back to me, his fierce expression instantly softening as he knelt down once more. He gently pulled my hands away from my face. “Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you inside. The nightmare is over.”
