CHAPTER 4 — THE MORNING AFTER JUSTICE
By dawn, the villa was empty.
No music.
No guests.
No laughter.
Only police lights fading into silence.
The young man in the gray suit was gone.
So was his influence.
So was everything he thought protected him.
The red-dressed woman sat in a recovery car, wrapped in a blanket. Her hands no longer trembled.
The older man stood beside the vehicle.
For the first time, he looked tired.
Not weak.
Just human.
“You didn’t have to come yourself,” she said quietly.
He looked at her for a long moment.
“I did,” he answered.
“Why?”
Because for a second, the world softened.
And his voice dropped lower.
“Because people like him always think no one will arrive for you.”
He closed the door gently.
The car drove away.
And the villa—once full of luxury, arrogance, and noise—was left behind like a memory no one wanted to repeat.
On the wet marble floor beside the pool, a single broken glass reflected the rising sun.
May you like
And for the first time that night…
There was no one left to fear.
