CHAPTER 5
1269 Words
The curses continued to fly like scattered stones from the seething crowd, but Richard didn’t utter a single word in return. He walked slowly through the chaotic hall, his shoulders squared, eyes steady and unwavering, as if the shouting around him were nothing more than the fading cries of summer cicadas, feeble and meaningless. Every step he took echoed crisply on the marble floor, reverberating in the ears of those who trembled around him. The guards who had just been taken down still lay groaning across the floor, some too frightened to even try getting up, while others had already crawled behind the bar counter, as if staying away from this man might be their only chance of survival.
Brandon still couldn’t understand why everyone was so terrified. Enraged, he shouted: “Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can mess this place up and leave just like that? Let me tell you, if you stand here for even one more minute, I’ll call the police and have you thrown back into that dog cage of yours for another few decades!”
Richard didn’t look back. He walked right through the crowd as they unconsciously parted for him, like a furious sea forced into narrow streams. No one met his eyes. No one could withstand his chilling presence. No one dared to block his path. And no one knew why their legs refused to move.
He only stopped when he reached Elena. Tilting his head slightly, he looked at her. In that moment, it was as if the entire hall ceased to exist. All the noise, wine, wedding cake, laughter, insults, was sucked out of the air, leaving behind a silence so suffocating it could crush a lung.
“Elena.” he said softly. His voice was low, like night wind brushing against stone, gentle, yet heavy.
Elena was already crying. From the moment she saw him step through the door, the tears hadn’t stopped, even as she desperately clung to the last shreds of rationality. She didn’t know whether she was trembling from fear, heartbreak, or something deeper, something she had buried for five long years.
He stood before her, not bowing, not kneeling, only looking, just as he once had under the sun when he slipped a ring onto her finger. But his gaze was no longer the fragile, helpless look of a man stripped of everything. It was the gaze of someone who had walked through the abyss and burned every chain that had once held him back.
“I’m sorry.” he said, not to anyone else. Just to her.
Elena bit her lip, her whole body tense. From anyone else, those words would have been an insult. But from Richard, they weren’t an apology. They were an admission, that he had left, had let her face everything alone, had abandoned their sick child without care. And yet, his eyes said clearly: if he could go back, he would still do the same, but this time, he wouldn’t let anyone drag her down with him.
The sharp sound of footsteps broke the frozen air. Brandon could take no more. He lunged like a crazed beast, fists clenched, veins bulging in his neck, screaming:
“You’re apologizing to her? Who the hell do you think you are?! You’re not even worthy to stand near her!”
“f**k you! Go to hell!”
He swung his arm toward Richard, but just then, another figure burst through the main doors, shoes skidding across the marble, coat askew, soaked in sweat as if he’d been running for his life.
“Brandon! Stop right there!!”
The roar exploded like thunder. The entire hall froze. Some guests dropped their glasses in shock; others stumbled back in fright. The man who had entered was none other than Auden Thomas, the man in charge of the entire Thomas Group, the honored guest whom the Marshall family had personally rolled out the red carpet to welcome.
But he no longer looked like the stately man seen in newspapers. Gone was his composed demeanor, gone was his impeccable smile. What now twisted his face was a fear so stark, so raw, it stripped him bare.
“Auden Thomas…”
“What’s he doing here? I heard he never attended any of Brandon’s previous bride hunts…”
The hall fell into dead silence.
Even Brandon froze for a second, turning around, still riding a wave of rage: “Dad? What are you doing here? That guy: “
Smack!
A fist landed square on his face, cutting him off mid-sentence. Auden’s punch came without hesitation, crashing into his son’s cheek with brutal force. Brandon had no time to react, his head snapped sideways, and his body staggered backward, crashing into a white-clothed table. A glass fell and shattered, scattering glittering shards beneath the lights.
A soft gasp rippled from the crowd.
“Oh my god…” a lady covered her mouth, uncertain if it was from the punch, or the fact that it came from Auden.
“He hit his own son… in front of everyone…”
“What the hell is going on?!”
No one had an answer. All eyes were locked on Brandon crumpled on the floor and Auden, panting heavily above him. The older man said nothing, he only stared down at his son as if staring at a mouth about to spill something that could drag him down to hell.
Brandon stumbled to his feet, face pale, one hand clutching his cheek, still filled with fury and confusion. He shouted again, refusing to yield:
“Have you lost your mind?! He’s just an ex-con with nothing, no status, no money, no one backing him! And you’re siding with him: “
Bang!
Before Brandon could finish another word, Auden lifted his foot and kicked him hard in the chest. It wasn’t elegant, but it was precise, instinctive, decisive. Not punishment. Silencing. Brandon doubled over, then crashed backward, rolling across the tiles, coughing violently like all the air had been kicked from his lungs.
A choked grunt escaped his throat, blanketing the entire hall in an oppressive silence.
A gentleman in the back hunched his shoulders and whispered: “He… he just kicked his own son in front of hundreds of people…”
“That wasn’t a fight.” another murmured, eyes glued to Auden: “He was silencing him. I saw it. He’s scared. Not angry, scared.”
“But… scared of what?”
“Did Brandon say something wrong? That guy… he just got out of prison, right? He has nothing…”
“Who knows… But didn’t you see Auden’s eyes? Like if Brandon said one more word, the whole Thomas family would be buried with him.”
The murmurs spread like wildfire. No one dared raise their voice, but no one stayed quiet either. And no one could explain why Auden, the man always standing above all power, now looked like someone facing his own execution.
And the most terrifying part was this: the man at the center of all the chaos still hadn’t spoken a word.
Richard stood as he had when he entered, expression cold, saying nothing, making no move to interfere. He didn’t strike back, didn’t react, didn’t look at Auden, didn’t glance at the man writhing on the floor.
He didn’t need to do anything at all.
The air in the hall felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. No one knew what was happening. No one understood. And because they didn’t understand, they were utterly, profoundly afraid.
- Writer
