Chapter 5

The bathroom door was shoved open.

Ella stumbled in, and when she saw her daughter crouching on the floor wiping up the mess, it felt like a piece of her heart had been torn out.

"Linda!" Ella let out a heartbroken cry and rushed over, pulling her daughter into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, Mommy failed you, I'm so sorry!"

Linda reached up with her small, still-dirty hands and clumsily wiped the tears from her mother's face. "Don't cry, Mommy. The teacher said I have to clean it all up or we can't stay at this school. And if we leave, we'll have nowhere to go."

Ella's body trembled. "It's my fault. I never should've pushed so hard to get you into this fancy preschool. We're done here — we're leaving right now."

"Well, well. What's all this drama about?"

At the bathroom door, a man in designer clothes with a thick gold chain around his neck — Michael Garcia — walked in, dragging a pudgy little boy behind him.

The boy pointed at Linda and let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Daddy, that's her! That's smelly Linda! I dumped trash on her earlier and everyone said she stinks like a bug!"

Michael's face twisted in disgust. He turned to Elizabeth, who had just arrived, and said with a sneer, "Ms. Elizabeth, if you don't get rid of this kind of trash, I'm reporting this preschool to the education board."

Elizabeth immediately put on a fawning smile, then spun around and snapped at Ella, "Did you hear that? Get out! Take your little brat and get out of this school!"

Ella was shaking from head to toe when Peter's voice exploded from the doorway.

"Who the hell told her to get out?"

Peter stood at the door.

When his eyes landed on Linda's red, swollen little hands and the stains all over her clothes, a cold, murderous rage swept through him.

Linda pressed herself against her mother, peeking timidly at this man who felt both unfamiliar and, somehow, safe.

Peter walked over in long strides, crouched down, and gently wiped the smudges off Linda's face.

His voice was impossibly soft. "Linda, I need to deal with some bad people in a minute. Can you close your eyes for me?"

Linda blinked her big eyes at him. "But Uncle, hitting people is wrong."

"Not with people like these." Peter gave her a gentle smile and held out his pinky finger. "Pinky promise. Forever and ever."

Linda hooked her little finger around his, then leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

In that moment, something hit Peter square in the chest.

"Michael, something's off about this guy..." Elizabeth caught the dark look in Peter's eyes and instinctively stepped back.

Michael let out a cold snort and straightened his tie. "He's nobody. I'm a sales manager at Jones Group. You think I haven't dealt with worse?"

Peter slowly stood up, staring at Michael like he was already a dead man. "Here's what's going to happen. Your son gets on his knees and licks every bit of that filth off Linda. Then you slap yourself a hundred times. Do that, and I might let you both walk out of here."

"You're insane!" Elizabeth shrieked. "You worthless piece of trash — do you have any idea who you're talking to?" She shot a vicious look at Ella. "Now it all makes sense. So that's how you got your kid into this school — found yourself a man to do the dirty work. You must be real good in bed, you little slut."

Crack.

The slap sent Elizabeth spinning in place. Half her face swelled up instantly, and a few bloody teeth flew out along with a spray of spit.

"You call yourself a teacher?" Peter looked down at her, his eyes so cold that the scream died in her throat.

"You — you hit her!" Michael's face went pale with fury. He grabbed his phone and dialed. "David! Someone's causing trouble at the preschool. Get over here and take care of him!"

Ella's face went white. She grabbed Peter's sleeve in a panic. "Peter, please stop making things worse! That's David Davis — nobody messes with him around here. Are you trying to get us killed?"

She turned to Michael, her voice small and desperate. "Michael, I'm sorry, we're leaving right now, please just let us go..."

Michael smiled, slow and cold. "Leaving? A little late for that. Tell your man to get on his knees and kowtow a hundred times, then lick the spit off Elizabeth's shoes. Otherwise, nobody walks out that door today."

Peter gently patted the back of Ella's hand. "Take Linda and go. I've got this."

"But—"

"Go." His voice was steady. "If things get messy in here, I don't want Linda seeing it."

Looking into Peter's deep, unreadable eyes, Ella felt an inexplicable wave of trust wash over her.

She bit her lip and held Linda tight. "Okay... I'll go call the police. Promise me you'll wait."

Michael watched them go and smirked, making no move to stop them. He was sure neither of them would get far once David showed up.

Ten minutes later, a storm of heavy footsteps poured into the preschool.

David led seven or eight muscular men covered in tiger tattoos, all of them charging in with steel pipes gleaming in their hands.

"This the guy?" David stood shirtless with a cigarette hanging from his lips, his eyes full of menace as he pointed at Peter.

Michael jabbed a finger at Peter, his face twisted with rage. "That's him! David, break him. Make him wish he'd never crossed me!"

David stepped forward, looming over Peter. "You've got some nerve, kid. You're not leaving here with both arms today."

Peter tilted his head slightly. That usual calm in his eyes gave way to a cold, sharp edge.

"You talk too much."

Without any warning, Peter exploded into motion, launching himself straight at David and the men behind him.

It wasn't a fight. It was a one-sided slaughter.

The air filled with the dull crack of breaking bones and the screams of men dropping one after another.