Chapter 3 - The RetributionBefore Brad's fist could even come close, Clara moved with lightning-fast agility. Years of muscle memory and suppressed pain took over.
As Brad lunged, Clara pivoted on her high heel, her body spinning in a fluid, devastating arc. With a fierce cry, she unleashed a high, spinning roundhouse kick that connected squarely with Brad’s jaw.
The impact was deafening. The sheer force of the kick lifted Brad off his feet. For a brief second, gravity seemed to suspend him in mid-air—his arms flailing, his gold jacket flying wide—before he crashed violently onto the marble floor with a bone-rattling thud.
He slid across the slick tiles, coming to a dead stop near the edge of the dance floor, completely unconscious.
Gasps erupted from the crowd. Wealthy socialites dropped their phones; high-profile investors stared in sheer terror at the man lying motionless on the floor.
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Clara stood over him, breathing heavily, adjusting her hair back into its sleek bun. The look of absolute fury in her eyes made the surrounding guests take three collective steps backward. No one dared to approach her. No one dared to speak.
She turned slowly, her gaze sweeping across the paralyzed room, locking eyes with Brad’s wealthy business partners who had laughed at her misery just moments before.
