ADAM POV
I came into the house with a loud bang as the front door hit the wall, still feeling the liquor's heat in my throat.
My jacket almost fell off my shoulder, but I didn't care to fix it. The living room lights were too bright and seemed to blame me.
"Where is everyone?" I asked, mumbling to myself loudly.
My wife, Clara, came out of the kitchen, looking small and scared as usual, twisting her hands in that sad way she always did. "You're…..you're home late." she said as if trying to avoid something from happening.
I scoffed and shut the door with my heel. "That's too much of a question you're asking Clara . Where's my dinner?"
"It's getting warm. I'll get it."
Still preparing?
"Why wasn't it ready when I got here?" I snapped angrily, hitting the closest table with my fist.
She jumped back. Good. At least someone listened to me in this house.
"Daddy?" A small voice came from the hallway of my daughter, holding onto the doorframe.
I tightened my teeth. "Go to your room." dismissing them instantly.
"But…"
"NOW!"
She ran off quickly, her feet barely making any sound on the floor. Clara swallowed hard and went back into the kitchen.
I followed her, the smell of reheated soup bothering my nose.
The same thing over and over again. "Useless," I said quietly. "Completely useless. Can't do the one thing I ask."
Clara's voice shook. "I...I tried. You weren't home…"
Something about her voice, the way she looked, it all pissed me off.
I hit her.
The sound of the slap filled the kitchen, louder than I thought it would be. She stumbled backwards but didn't scream.
She never did. Weak thing.
"Get the food. And stop shaking."
She gave me the food with shaky hands just a few minutes later, and I sat down, eating loudly, letting the silence bother her.
When she finally started to walk away, I grabbed her wrist.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Her eyes opened wide, as if she was fearing the worst was yet to come "I… I should check on our daughter…"
She was sure to be afraid.
"You'll do that later," I said, pulling her closer. "You're married to me, you're to stay and watch your husband eat."
She froze, scared, and I smiled. She always broke easily. She always did what I said.
I pulled her closer, holding her arm tightly. "Why don't you show me some respect tonight? Hm?"
She shook her head, her voice low and pleading. "Adam, please, the children…"
"They know to stay in their rooms. That's enough. Now stop…"
A knock.
Loud.
Cold.
One knock.
Then quiet.
Clara moved away from me quickly as if she'd been saved. I cursed quietly under my breath and walked toward the door.
"Who is…"
I pulled it open.
No one.
The porch was empty, the night silent. Even the dogs nearby were quiet.
"Tch." I started to close the door.
But it pushed back into me.
A dark shape pushed me hard enough to send me crashing into the hallway wall. Pain shot across my shoulder, and I gasped.
"Good evening, Adam."
That voice.
I didn't know I was capable of the fear that washed over me.
Ranon Vescari came inside as if the house was his. Calm. Tall. Cold eyes. He closed the door quietly behind him.
"No no…" I pushed myself off the wall, trying to run, but he grabbed me by the collar and threw me to the floor easily.
"Let me leave!" I shouted, struggling, stumbling, almost crawling on the ground. "Help! HELP!"
Clara was still by the kitchen door, eyes opened wide, covering her mouth with her hand. My kids peeked out from the hall, looking very scared.
Ranon did not even look in their direction.
He only looked directly at me.
"You created a false record about Seraphina Quinn." His tone was calm. Way too calm. "You wanted to ruin her job."
"I I have no idea what you are talking about."
He stepped down very hard on my hand with his foot.
I yelled out as my bones broke from the intense pressure.
"Do not lie to me," he quietly said.
I turned, flailing, crying because of the pain. "Please PLEASE!"
He bent down right next to me, holding my jaw very tightly as he made me look at him.
"You caused Sera to cry," he whispered. "And because of that, I am going to take my time."
"No… no, please don't, don't do this where my family can see!"
"You should have considered that," he said without emotion, "before you hurt your family."
My wife made a sad, soft sound.
My daughter began to cry.
But Ranon would not stop what he was doing.
He pulled me across the floor like I was very light, the chair legs making noise as he moved one. I tried to grab my phone but he stomped on it, breaking it right away.
"Please," I asked again, my voice breaking. "I'm very sorry!"
His fist slammed into my ribs before I could finish talking, causing me to lose my breath.
Then he hit me again.
And then another time.
He did not yell at all. Did not brag. Did not hurry.
He ruined me with careful, exact violence each hit controlled, planned, almost like a surgery. Not just uncontrolled anger.
A punishment.
My children's screams filled the air, Clara crying as she kept them safe.
But Ranon did not hesitate at all.
By the time he finally moved away, I was a broken person on the floor, breathing hard, bleeding, barely able to think.
He fixed his shirt, rolled his sleeves down calmly, and looked at me just one more time.
"Seraphina will not hear another word from you," he stated. "Not at her job. Not anywhere at all."
Then he leaned in close, speaking quietly enough that only I could hear him.
"Mess with her job again… and I will do more than break your bones."
He left without looking again, closing the door behind him as he went.
My family quickly came to help me.
I was lyi
ng there, shaking uncontrollably, more scared than I had ever been at any point in my life.
Because Ranon Vescari did not just threaten people.
He made real promises.