005
1634 Words
The atmosphere in the hotel’s grand hall grew ever more tumultuous, the sounds of whispering, mockery, and laughter mingling in a constant buzz. It seemed that every eye was fixed on Raymond, the poor man who had just returned, and on the so-called “fake military” scene, which everyone considered the most pathetic performance in the history of groom-selection banquets.
Several regular acquaintances of the Thompson family openly displayed their disdain, gathering in small groups to gossip loudly, not even bothering to keep their voices down around Raymond and Vera: “They must have hired actors, obviously. Since when does the government ever meddle in things like this? This is what happens when you’re so poor you go crazy, dragging out military uniforms for a cheap show.”
“Poor Sophia, really, such a miserable fate, falling for a useless man, and now he comes back just to cause more embarrassment. Making the whole city watch this circus.”
“Just wait, this’ll be all over social media in a bit, ha ha ha, what a disgrace!”
The Thompsons themselves couldn’t hide their satisfaction, Kiera sneered, while Laura whispered: “She wants to cling to that garbage? Let’s see where she’ll hide her face this time.”
Victor glanced at Sophia and said: “You see that? People like them, I only need to snap my fingers and they’re gone. You’d better not entertain any ideas of escaping me.”
Sophia could barely hear Victor’s words, her eyes glued to Raymond, the man who gave her hope, yet also crushed it. No matter how tough or experienced he was as a soldier, how could he possibly take on over a dozen hulking bodyguards?
As for the soldiers, clearly hired, surely they wouldn’t last half a punch from Victor’s men.
But in the blink of an eye, the tables turned.
The first two burly bodyguards rushed at Vera. Before they could even touch her, she lifted her leg and kicked them square in the chest, a sharp thud echoed as both massive bodies flew backwards like rag dolls, crashing into the banquet table behind them, sending wine glasses flying and guests shrieking.
The remaining dozen bodyguards, stunned at how easily their companions were taken out, still had to act for the sake of their boss’s pride. Yet, one by one, each of them was brought down by Vera and two other members of the escort squad, using nothing but simple yet frighteningly precise and powerful moves.
The entire hall was silent for several seconds. All those who had just been jeering and waiting for a show now gaped in disbelief.
Victor’s face went pale; he simply could not believe someone would dare “make trouble” right under the nose of the Grant family.
At that moment, Arnold Grant, Victor’s father, with graying hair and eyes sharp as blades, strode straight into the hall, two trusted aides in tow. Who could have imagined, just for being a few minutes late, he’d witness a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle: his bodyguards sprawled on the floor, banquet tables overturned, guests in chaos. His face grew even darker as his voice dropped, each word thunderous and full of authority: “What is the meaning of this? In all my life, I have never seen anyone dare to cause a scene in the Grant family’s presence. Victor, what’s going on?”
Victor bowed his head, trying to keep his composure but unable to hide his embarrassment: “Father, these people… they came to disrupt things and openly attacked our bodyguards. I tried to have them thrown out, but I didn’t expect them to be this reckless.”
Arnold shot Victor a cold look before striding straight to the center of the hall, facing Vera and Raymond, his gaze razor-sharp. His voice was low, each word ringing with threat, not bothering to hide the killing intent: “Who are you, to cause trouble at the Grant family’s banquet? Do you really think anyone in this city can protect you?”
Vera met his gaze without flinching, replying in a cool, crisp tone: “I don’t care whose city this is. Anyone who touches me will pay for it in full.”
Another ripple of murmurs swept through the guests. Someone let out a breath, deliberately loud enough for all to hear: “To speak to Arnold Grant like that? She must have a death wish!”
A man shook his head at Raymond and Vera, sneering: “Just wait, let’s see if they dare say another word.”
Arnold narrowed his eyes at Vera, then lowered his voice, arms folded, glancing at Victor as if weighing his options. He spoke with forced magnanimity: “Today is my son’s special day. I don’t want any bloodshed to spoil it. If you know what’s good for you, leave this hotel immediately and I won’t pursue what just happened.”
Another wave of chatter spread among the guests. Some clicked their tongues, looking disappointed: “Why is Mr. Grant being so lenient?”
“He’s probably just showing restraint for the wedding, otherwise, he’d have smashed them long ago.”
A young man shook his head, speaking loudly to his whole table: “Those people are really lucky today, if they know what’s good for them, they’ll leave while they still can!”
Laura curled her lip and whispered to her mother: “They’re getting off too easily?”
She’d wanted to see more drama, but Kiera just shook her head, not knowing what to say.
The guests all turned their gazes on Raymond and Vera; someone even waved them off: “You heard him, nobody wants to see your faces anymore, get out so we can enjoy the party!”
The whole hall seemed ready to erupt, the shame hanging over Raymond and Vera like a cloud. For a moment, it felt as if the moment they turned to leave, every sneer and insult would rain down on them like daggers.
But Vera stepped forward, standing directly in front of Victor and Arnold, and said coolly: “I advise you both to leave now before anything unfortunate happens. This hotel has been requisitioned for emergency government use. You have no authority here anymore.”
The hall fell silent for several seconds, then erupted into skeptical chatter.
A middle-aged man raised his brows and laughed: “What a joke! Who gave you the right to requisition a hotel in broad daylight?”
A fat man at the next table shook his head, incredulous: “They never get tired of this act, do they? Do they really think a few threats are going to scare anyone?”
Victor clenched his fists, growling: “Do you really think your ridiculous performance will intimidate the Grant family?”
Arnold’s voice was icy: “You fools really don’t know your place, do you? Let me show you, no one in this city can defy the Grants!”
He immediately pulled out his phone, dialing with urgency: “Bring everyone here. All of them! Tonight, anyone who dares defy the Grant family will crawl out that door!”
The guests buzzed with excitement; someone shook their head in dismay: “They refused a peaceful solution, now they’ll get what’s coming.”
A young woman giggled: “They’re just bringing disaster on themselves. Even wasted their last chance.”
Laura whispered bitterly to her mother: “Let’s see if that useless Raymond can do anything now. Once Mr. Grant’s men get through with him, he’ll be lucky to escape with his life!”
The atmosphere turned even heavier, thick with violence. Some guests even moved to the lobby doors, eager for a real fight. Outside, footsteps grew louder, figures flickered in the hotel’s lights.
In just five minutes, over fifty men in black, gangsters and a hastily assembled security force, stormed into the hall, each face grim and intimidating. They formed ranks, tightening their circle, ready to act at Arnold’s signal.
A bodyguard who’d been knocked out earlier was now helped to his feet by underlings, his face twisted as he glared at Raymond and hissed: “Let’s see how you survive this!”
The second bodyguard Vera had sent flying, gripped his knife, spitting on the floor: “Still mouthing off when you’re about to die. One hit from us and your skull’ll be cracked wide open!”
Arnold raised his hand to give the signal, but just then, a side door to the hotel swung open. A man in a gray suit hurried inside, carrying a thick file, and called out loudly: “Please, everyone, remain calm. I am the city’s legal representative, here today with an emergency government decree.”
The grand hall fell silent; all eyes snapped to the doorway. The man strode straight up to Arnold, respectfully presenting a folder stamped with an official red seal: “By order of the leader of the city, the Desert View Hotel is hereby requisitioned for emergency government operations. All civil and private activities here are to cease immediately. We ask all guests to vacate the premises within ten minutes.”
The crowd was stunned; some guests gave awkward laughs, unsure what to believe.
An old man shook his head and muttered quietly: “Is this a joke? Is that order real or fake?”
“Don’t tell me they hired someone to act again?”
But the instant Arnold caught sight of the red seal, his expression changed drastically. The murderous air vanished, replaced by a deep, lingering anxiety. Since the country’s founding, no one had ever forged a national seal and gotten away with it, he was almost certain this was real. The hotel instantly fell into a hush; no one dared raise their voice again.
- Writer
