Chapter 3 - The First Strike
Near the center display, resting on carved mahogany pedestals, stood three priceless Ming Dynasty vases—the pride of Eleanor’s private collection and the symbol of the Carrington family’s unbroken legacy. Ethan walked toward them with deliberate, unhurried steps, his eyes fixed on the ceramic surface glowing beneath the chandelier lights.
Without a word, he reached out and snatched a heavy, decorative wooden cane resting beside the display stand. His grip locked around the polished silver handle, his fingers tightening until the metal groaned under his strength.
The guests watched in confused horror, assuming he was merely using the cane for balance or as a defensive weapon. But Ethan did not turn toward the crowd. He raised the cane high over his right shoulder and swung it through the air with the full force of his muscular frame.
CRASH!
The head of the cane struck the center of the first antique vase. The priceless porcelain exploded into thousands of sharp white and blue shards, shattering with a sound like a gunshot. Debris scattered violently across the marble floor, raining down over the polished shoes of the nearest guests, who screamed and retreated in terror toward the main entrance.
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Eleanor gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she watched a thirty-million-dollar heirloom turn to dust in a single second. “Ethan, stop!” she managed to choke out, her voice raspy and thin. “Have you lost your mind?”
Ethan didn't answer. He took a single step to the right, adjusting his stance as his eyes locked onto the second vase.
