Chapter 6 - Impact and Shattered Brass
Massimo did not argue. He did not issue a warning. He did not raise his voice.
He shifted his weight.
With the terrifying, explosive speed of a man whose violence had been forged in street wars decades before Grant Hale was born, Massimo drove his right heel straight into Grant’s solar plexus.
It was not a shove. It was a devastating, piston-like front kick backed by two hundred and twenty pounds of pure fury.
CRACK.
The sound of Grant’s breath tearing from his lungs was drowned out by the violence of his trajectory. The impact lifted the younger man clean off his feet, launching him backward across the polished parquet floor.
Grant crashed directly into a multi-tiered, heavy brass wine service cart.
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The collision was catastrophic. The heavy brass frame buckled, flipping over under Grant’s momentum. Six vintage bottles of reserve cabernet, two silver ice buckets, and dozens of lead crystal goblets smashed over his chest, face, and limbs.
Dark red wine washed over Grant’s bespoke suit like fresh blood as shards of pulverized glass rained down on his thrashing, gasping form. He writhed on the floor, clutching his broken ribs, choking on expensive alcohol and his own bile.
