Rise of Underdog

"You think being top of the exam makes you worthy of my daughter?" Thomas Sinclair’s voice cut sharply through the opulent living room, thick with disdain and judgment. He leaned forward, eyes locked on the young man before him—piercing blue like a predator sizing up prey. The room reeked of old whiskey and expensive leather, a space crafted to dominate conversations. The young man held his gaze, unfazed. “No,” he replied calmly. “I don’t think that at all.” Thomas’s thick brows furrowed. “Then why are you here?” The young man glanced briefly at the antique clock on the wall. Everything was exactly as he remembered—just like in his past life. He had once sat in that very chair, fists clenched, nodding obediently as Thomas dictated his future. Back then, he’d been desperate, drunk on love, willing to endure humiliation just to be with Scarlett. But not this time. He gently set the porcelain cup back onto its saucer. “I came to share my achievement. That’s all.” Thomas scoffed. “Achievement? You got into med school on a scholarship and expect me to be impressed? This family has produced surgeons, specialists, hospital directors for generations. You think one exam makes you our equal?” The young man gave a faint smile. “No. But it makes me the best.” Thomas’s jaw clenched. “You arrogant little—” “Father.” A soft voice interrupted. The young man turned slightly. Scarlett stood in the doorway, arms crossed, hesitation written all over her face. She was just as beautiful as he remembered—long auburn hair cascading over her shoulders, emerald eyes filled with uncertainty, curiosity… and something else. Regret? Next to her, partially hidden behind the doorframe, stood Evelyn Sinclair, her mother. Unlike Scarlett, Evelyn’s expression was unreadable. But Thomas knew—she was listening. Seeing them there, Thomas’s face darkened. “Out.” Scarlett hesitated. “Now.” The two women exchanged glances before stepping back—but it was clear they hadn’t gone far. Thomas turned his glare back to the young man. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but let me be clear. My daughter will marry a man of status and wealth—someone worthy of the Sinclair name. Not some orphan with foolish dreams.” The young man leaned back, relaxed. “I think you misunderstand, Mr. Sinclair.” “Oh?” He nodded. “I have no issue with your family. In fact, I don’t dislike you at all.” Silence. Thomas’s fingers curled into fists, knuckles whitening. “What did you just say?” “I said, I don’t dislike you. Not even a little.” A vein throbbed visibly on Thomas’s forehead. “You insolent—!” “I used to think I needed your approval,” the young man continued, ignoring the outburst. “I thought if I worked hard enough, gave up enough, eventually I’d be good enough. But I was wrong.” Thomas’s chair screeched as he stood abruptly. “You were very wrong.” The young man stood too, calmly adjusting his cuff. “You’ve spent your life looking down on people like me. But soon enough, you’ll be the one looking up.” Thomas’s face twisted in fury. “Is that a threat?” “A threat requires uncertainty. I’m just stating facts.” Thomas slammed his hand on the table. “Arrogant bastard. Apologize. Now!” The young man tilted his head. “For what?” “For disrespecting me in my own house!” He sighed, eyes flicking toward the hallway. Scarlett and Evelyn were still there, eavesdropping in silence. Good. He turned back to Thomas. “No.” Thomas’s nostrils flared. “What did you say?” “I said no. I won’t apologize.” Thomas’s face flushed deep red. “You—” The young man stepped past him, heading for the door. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Sinclair. I won’t be bothering you again.” “Get back here!” The door clicked shut behind him. He didn’t stop. “You’ll regret this!” Thomas’s voice thundered from behind, shaking the walls. “You think passing some exam makes you untouchable? I’ll make sure you never work in this city again!” The young man paused at the threshold, just long enough to glance back and see the man’s face contorted with rage. “Try me,” he said simply, then stepped out. The moment he left, the room erupted with tension. "You let him speak to you like that?" Evelyn’s voice cut through the room like a blade. "In our own home?" Thomas’s hands trembled with fury. "That bastard doesn’t know who he’s messing with." Scarlett hesitated. "He’s… changed." Evelyn scoffed. "Obviously. He used to be pitiful—always trying so hard to please us. And now he struts in here acting like he’s above us?" Thomas snatched his phone. "That boy needs a reminder of where he belongs." Scarlett frowned. "What are you going to do?" "Make a call." She stepped closer. "Call who?" "The National Health Board." Scarlett stiffened. "Dad—" "He thinks he can walk in here, challenge me, and leave without consequences?" He began dialing. "Let’s see how he likes it when his credentials are questioned. Let’s see how long he keeps that license." Scarlett’s eyes widened. "You can’t—" Thomas’s gaze was icy. "Watch me." The call connected. "Dr. Caldwell," Thomas began, his tone shifting into something smooth, authoritative, and calculated. "I have some concerns regarding someone who recently passed the licensing exam. I’d like you to look into a few things for me…" Scarlett clenched her fists. The young man’s words still echoed in her ears. "You misunderstand me, Mr. Sinclair. I don’t hate you. Not even a little." What did he mean by that? And why did it feel like a warning? Outside, the air was tense. The cool breeze did little to extinguish the fire igniting inside the Sinclair household. The young man walked away from the mansion, Thomas’s fury still pressing against his chest like a weight. He had faced many challenges in life, but this one felt… different. There was no doubt—if he wanted to, Thomas Sinclair could turn his life into hell. As he passed through the luxurious neighborhood, a sense of being hunted clung to him. The Sinclair name carried weight, and Thomas wasn’t the kind of man to let an insult slide. The young man knew he had to be ready for whatever came next. Eventually, he reached his small apartment—a far cry from the Sinclair estate. The walls were plain, the furniture mismatched and minimal, but everything in it was his. He tossed his keys onto a tiny table by the door and collapsed onto the couch, rubbing his temples. “Think… think… think…” he muttered. He had fought tooth and nail to get here—to prove he deserved a place in the world of medicine. And now, a new threat had emerged: Thomas Sinclair. He picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the name he was looking for. Jessica. His childhood friend—and a lawyer. If anyone could help him weather this storm, it was her. He hit call, foot tapping anxiously as the line rang. "Hello?" Jessica’s voice was bright and cheerful—a sharp contrast to the storm in his head. "Jess, I need your help," he said without preamble. "What happened?" Her tone immediately shifted to serious. "I had a showdown with Thomas Sinclair. And he’s not letting it go." There was a pause. "What did you do?" "I told him I didn’t need his approval anymore. I’m done being his puppet." "Bold move. But you know he has connections, right? He can ruin your life if he wants to." "I know," he muttered, raking his hand through his hair. "That’s why I need you. I need to know what my options are if he tries to take me down. I can’t let him destroy everything I’ve worked for." "Meet me at our usual place," Jessica said firmly. "We’ll figure this out." "Thanks, Jess. I owe you." After hanging up, he got ready to head back out. Their usual café was a quiet, cozy spot—perfect for planning his next move. He needed to be smart this time. Thomas might have power, but he had something the older man didn’t: resolve. As soon as he stepped into the café, the aroma of fresh coffee enveloped him. The place buzzed with laughter and conversation, but his thoughts were fixed on the storm that lay ahead. Jessica was already there, a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. Her relaxed expression shifted the moment she saw him approach. "Okay," she said as he sat down. "Tell me everything." He recounted the entire encounter—Thomas’s threats, his own defiance. Jessica listened carefully, brows knitting tighter with every detail. "You know he’s not just a businessman, right?" she said when he finished. "He’s ruthless. If he thinks his family’s reputation is at stake, he won’t hesitate to strike back."