Chapter 8 - The Final Threat
The bridal suite smelled like roses and powder and expensive nerves.
Giulietta stood near the vanity while a stylist made a final adjustment to her veil, then quietly left on Sofia’s instruction. A bridesmaid knocked, said she’d be downstairs, and disappeared. One by one, the room emptied.
That was deliberate too.
At 11:12, Preston walked in and locked the door behind him.
He was handsome in the black tuxedo. Dangerous in the eyes.
In his hand was the leather belt.
He didn’t hide it.
“I asked for five minutes,” he said.
Giulietta didn’t move. “Then you shouldn’t waste them.”
He laid a paper packet on the vanity beside her bouquet. “Sign the rider. My father wants this finished before the ceremony.”
She glanced down but didn’t touch it. “No.”
His mouth twitched. “You don’t get to say no at this point.”
“Watch me.”
He stepped closer. “You’ve embarrassed us for weeks. You’ve hidden behind lawyers. You’ve used that little boy like a shield.”
Giulietta’s voice went icy. “Say one more word about my son.”
He smiled like a man who thought he had found the nerve to press. “By tonight, your son’s future will be handled by people who understand discipline.”
There it was.
Not just greed. Intent.
The cameras hidden in the suite were catching every syllable.
Giulietta let the silence stretch. “So this is the plan? Intimidate me before the vows?”
“If that’s what it takes.” He lifted the belt slightly. “You’ll thank me later. Women always fight structure before they appreciate it.”
She looked at the belt, then back at him. “Did your mother appreciate it?”
That hit.
His expression hardened instantly. “Don’t mention my mother.”
“Then don’t become your father.”
May you like
He took one more step.
And raised the belt.
