Lucien Valois lunged like a rabid dog, his palm striking Sylvia Savigny's face with a sharp crack that echoed through the private room.

"I'm tearing this damn place apart today!" he roared, eyes bloodshot.

Sylvia cradled her stinging cheek, forcing back tears. She released Jenna Roland from her protective grasp and forced a placating smile as she approached Lucien.

"Lucien, please calm down," she pleaded, reaching a trembling hand toward him.

A vicious glint flashed in Lucien's eyes. His foot shot out, slamming into Sylvia's abdomen. She gasped, stumbling backward into the coffee table.

"Whore!" He jabbed a finger at her face. "You should be grateful I even look at you. Who do you think you are?"

Sylvia knew him too well. This unpredictable madman always took his rage out on those around him. She'd spent years obeying his every whim without protest.

But today was different.

Jenna was Stella's guest. She couldn't stand by.

"You can't touch Jenna." Sylvia pushed herself up from the table, shielding Jenna.

Lucien sneered as he advanced. "There's no woman I can't have!" He jerked his chin at his bodyguards. "Drag her out!"

Four men immediately closed in. Though Sylvia had always treated them kindly, none dared disobey their employer now.

"Three. Two—"

The countdown froze.

The door swung open. A middle-aged man in a tailored suit and gold-rimmed glasses entered, flanked by a man and woman.

Lucien paled. "Father?"

Vincent Valois strode forward and delivered a stinging slap.

"Get home. Now." His quiet voice carried undeniable authority.

Lucien clutched his cheek, resentment burning in his eyes. "I'm not leaving!"

"One minute." Vincent checked his watch coldly. "If you're not out, you're no son of mine."

As he turned to leave, Vincent's gaze lingered on Jenna for a fleeting moment. His unreadable expression hinted at some hidden secret.