Chapter 9 - The Climax of Humiliation
Two hundred.
The counting in Raquel's head was becoming fuzzy. The pain was an all-consuming white noise. Her dress was in tatters, the blue fabric stained with dark spots of blood.
Mauricio was pacing around her like a predator playing with a wounded bird. He was drunk on the absolute power he held over the room. The initial shock of the guests had worn off, replaced by a morbid, silent complicity. They were too afraid of Doña Rebeca's influence to intervene. Some were actively filming with their phones, desperate for the exclusive scandal.
"Look at her!" Mauricio shouted, pointing his belt at Raquel’s shaking form. "This is what happens to parasites who try to infect our legacy!"
Raquel bit through her lower lip to keep from screaming. She cradled her stomach, praying her baby couldn't feel the terror radiating through her body.
Two hundred and ninety-six.
Two hundred and ninety-seven.
"I will take my daughter," Mauricio spat, standing directly over her. "And you will be locked away in a psychiatric ward for the rest of your miserable, pathetic life."
Two hundred and ninety-eight.
Two hundred and ninety-nine.
Mauricio raised his arm high into the air, wrapping the leather tightly around his fist. He was preparing to deliver the three hundredth strike, a blow meant to completely break her spirit.
Raquel squeezed her eyes shut. Where are you, Dad? she silently screamed.
Mauricio’s arm tensed.
But the leather never fell.
May you like
A massive, explosive crash echoed through the ballroom, rattling the crystal chandeliers and shaking the champagne glasses on the tables. The heavy, reinforced mahogany doors of the main entrance had been violently kicked open.
The silence that followed was absolute. For the first time all night, Doña Rebeca Del Valle completely dropped her smile.
