I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg.
I lowered my hands from my stomach. I looked Julian dead in the eye, my gaze turning as hard and unforgiving as glacial ice.
I didn’t reach for my purse. I didn’t reach for my card.
I shifted my weight entirely to my left foot.
3. The Shattered Kneecap
I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t offer a warning.
I raised my right leg, wearing heavy, solid-heeled leather ankle boots, and drove my foot forward with absolutely every ounce of strength my body possessed.
I didn’t aim for his groin. A strike to the groin is painful, but a highly motivated, angry man can recover from it quickly. I needed to fundamentally, physically neutralize the immediate threat blocking my only exit. I needed to ensure he could not chase me, could not grab me, and could not stop me from walking out that door.
I drove the heavy heel of my boot directly, violently into the side of Julian’s right knee.
The impact was devastating.
The sickening, wet, unmistakable CRACK of his patella forcefully shifting out of place, followed by the tearing of ligaments, echoed like a muffled gunshot in the narrow foyer.
Julian’s arrogant, sneering expression vanished in a microsecond.
He let out a high-pitched, agonizing, breathless scream that tore violently from his throat. His eyes bulged in absolute, unadulterated shock as the structural integrity of his leg gave out entirely.
He collapsed instantly, crashing heavily onto the hardwood floor like a puppet with its strings cut. He curled into a tight, pathetic ball, clutching his shattered knee with both hands, writhing in agony, his screams bouncing off the high ceilings of the entryway.
Eleanor shrieked.
The sound was a high, terrified squeal of pure panic. She stumbled backward, dropping her manicured hands from my shoulders as if I had suddenly caught fire. She stared at her son writhing on the floor, then stared at me with wide, horrified eyes.
“Julian!” Eleanor screamed, dropping to her knees on the hardwood floor beside him, her hands fluttering uselessly over his ruined leg. She looked up at me, her face a mask of absolute, furious disbelief. “You psychotic bitch! What did you do?! You broke his leg!”
“I told you,” I said quietly, my voice completely devoid of adrenaline or panic, sounding eerily detached as I looked down at them. “I am done discussing the budget.”
I stepped carefully over Julian’s thrashing legs. I didn’t look at his face. I reached up, my hand steady, unlatched the heavy brass deadbolt, and pulled the solid oak door wide open.
The cool, fresh evening air rushed into the foyer, instantly sweeping away the stifling, oppressive scent of their extortion.
I stepped out onto the porch.
I turned around, looking back at the two parasites I had almost foolishly tied my entire life, and my child’s life, to.
Julian was sobbing loudly now, tears streaming down his face, gasping for air between screams, demanding an ambulance. The ‘visionary CEO’ was reduced to a weeping, broken mess on the floor.
Eleanor was glaring at me from her knees, her eyes burning with pure, unadulterated hatred. The aristocratic mask was completely gone.
“You’re going to jail for this!” Eleanor shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at me, spit flying from her lips. “You assaulted him unprovoked! I’m calling the police right now! I’m going to have you locked up, you monster!”
I smiled. It was a cold, terrifying, and utterly humorless expression that finally made her realize the absolute gravity of her mistake.
“Please do, Eleanor,” I said softly, ensuring she heard every word. “Call them immediately. Because I have a very, very long story to tell them about how you locked me in this house and attempted to violently extort a pregnant woman.”
I turned my back on them and walked purposefully down the driveway toward my car.
I had neutralized the immediate physical threat. I was safe.
But the physical kick was only the opening salvo. They had threatened my child. They had threatened my livelihood.
As I unlocked my car and slid into the driver’s seat, the cold, tactical mind of a CEO took total control. The physical violence was over, but I was about to drop a financial and legal nuclear bomb directly onto the smoldering ruins of their greed.
