Chapter 7 - The Taste of Power
Evelyn practically tumbled down the grand staircase, her trembling hands clutching the banister. "Mara! Have you lost your mind?! I am your mother! I gave birth to you!"
Mara didn't flinch. She stood perfectly still, her hands resting calmly in the pockets of her trousers. The dark bruise on her cheek was concealed under subtle makeup, but the split on her lip remained—a stark reminder of the mother who had watched her bleed for money.
"You gave birth to me, Evelyn," Mara said, each word deliberate and razor-sharp, "and then you spent twenty-four years treating me like an inconvenient obstacle to Arthur's wealth. Last night, you watched Grant hit me and didn't even put your champagne down."
Lauren rushed down the steps behind Evelyn, her eyes red, her makeup smeared. "Mara, please! Grant didn't mean it! You know how stressed he was! Look what you did to his face—he’s in a hospital room guarded by the police! How could you do this to your own family?!"
Mara turned her gaze onto Lauren. Her younger stepsister was wearing the seven-carat diamond tennis necklace Arthur had bought for Mara’s twenty-first birthday—stolen from Mara’s jewelry box two weeks after Arthur’s funeral.
Mara walked slowly toward Lauren. Cal stepped forward, his hulking frame casting a long shadow that instantly made Lauren shrink back in terror.
Mara reached out. Her fingers wrapped around the diamond clasp behind Lauren's neck. With one sharp, unyielding yank, she snapped the gold setting.
Lauren shrieked, clutching her neck. "You ripped my skin!"
"This was grandfather's gift to me," Mara whispered, rolling the diamonds into her palm. "You wore it while you filmed me being beaten. You will never wear a diamond in this city again, Lauren."
Evelyn lunged forward, her painted nails clawing toward Mara's face. "You ungrateful little whore! You think Vincent Bellini loves you? He’s using you for Arthur’s docks! When he’s done with you, he’ll dump you in a ditch, just like his father did to—"
Cal’s arm shot out like an iron bar, blocking Evelyn inches from Mara. The sound of Cal’s Glock clicking as he rested his thumb on the hammer silenced the room like a gunshot.
"Step back, ma'am," Cal said in an eerie, polite monotone. "My orders from Mr. Bellini are very specific. If you touch Mrs. Bellini, you leave this house in an ambulance."
Evelyn froze, her chest heaving, the reality of her total destruction finally crashing down upon her.
Mara stepped closer to Evelyn, leaning in until her breath stirred her mother’s immaculate blonde hair. "All your jewelry, your bank accounts, and your country club memberships are frozen. Tonight is the Vance Maritime Annual Charity Gala at the Plaza Hotel. You were planning to announce your takeover there, weren't you?"
Evelyn stared at her with venomous hatred. "You won't dare show your face there. The board will never accept you without Grant's votes."
Mara offered a cold, predatory smile that made Evelyn shudder.
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"Grant signed away his shares at midnight, mother," Mara said softly. "The board belongs to me. And tonight, Vincent and I are hosting the ball. Pack your bags. If you are still in this house in twenty minutes, the police won't arrest you—Vincent’s men will."
***
