Avenge His Grudge

Sitting quietly at the corner table, Julian slowly raised his eyes to stare up at Julianna Jakes. The expensive, excessively thick makeup caked onto her face did absolutely nothing to mask her rotten core. Staring at her, he was entirely unable to hide a distinct, cold glimmer of repugnance that flashed in his dark eyes. He vividly remembered the university days when she had pursued him relentlessly, practically throwing herself at his feet at every opportunity. Back then, his father’s secure, highly respected civil servant position had made Julian a highly sought-after catch on campus. But Julian had flatly refused to give in to her aggressive advances. Instead, he had chosen Sasha, foolishly and blindly believing her to be a sweet, innocent girl who was far less materialistic than the likes of Julianna.

Sitting there in the hostile atmosphere of the banquet hall, Julian mentally scoffed at his own past stupidity. Realizing from the sheer look of things tonight, both women were exactly the same kind of shallow, greedy parasites. He berated himself internally, acknowledging with a bitter pill of truth that he had simply made the completely wrong call in his naive youth.

Standing directly beside the aggressively smirking Julianna was Warren Faust, Julian’s former university roommate. Warren’s sharp suit couldn’t hide the petty malice radiating from his pores. Warren still harbored a deeply rooted, bitter grudge over the fact that Sasha had harshly rejected his own desperate advances back in the day, choosing the golden boy Julian instead. Seeing his former rival utterly defeated, stripped of his status, and branded a criminal, Warren eagerly seized the golden opportunity to publicly sneer.

Stepping aggressively into Julian's personal space, Warren leaned over the table, his voice dripping with venom. "What’s the matter, Julian? Why aren't you saying anything to your former classmates?" Warren loudly demanded, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Has prison made you go completely mute? You used to be so damn impressive, didn't you? The untouchable president of the student council."

Warren purposely projected his voice to the surrounding tables, ensuring the elite guests could hear every word. "I loudly wonder what our strict old university lecturers would think if they saw their former, golden-boy student council president reduced to a pathetic ex-convict crashing a wedding!"

It was glaringly obvious to Julian. Sasha had deliberately invited these specific people to her wedding for the sole, malicious purpose of humiliating him further. She wanted an audience to witness his absolute degradation.

Refusing to take the bait, Julian simply dipped his head. His face remained entirely impassive as he casually picked up his crystal glass and sipped his water quietly. He appeared entirely unbothered by the concentrated vitriol, treating the two of them like buzzing insects.

Mistaking his stoic, stony silence for deep-seated fear and paralyzing shame, Warren’s triumphant, arrogant smile widened considerably. The fact that Julian wouldn't even look him in the eye only fueled Warren's inflated ego. He leaned in closer, invading Julian's space once more, loudly mocking him for the entire room to hear.

"Julian, I'm sure you haven't found a decent job, seeing as you've only just crawled out of a dirty prison cell," Warren sneered with extreme condescension. "Do you want me to write you a recommendation? I could probably get you a job cleaning the toilets at my company. It’s dirty, back-breaking work, but at least a piece of trash like you wouldn't starve on the streets. Your dad lost his job, so you can't go crying to him anymore."

Julianna quickly covered her mouth, giggling maliciously behind her manicured hand. "Oh, Warren, don't be so cruel! How could our prestigious student council president clean toilets?" She deliberately raised her shrill voice. "I think sweeping the filthy streets might actually be a much cleaner alternative for someone like him. He’s used to picking up garbage, after all!"

Their loud, highly coordinated ridicule echoed through the section of the hall. It sent the mobster Salvatore Greco and the nearby wealthy, upper-crust guests into massive fits of unrestrained laughter. They pointed and jeered, thoroughly enjoying the public crucifixion of the disgraced ex-boyfriend.

Right at the absolute peak of their mocking laughter, Julian slowly and deliberately raised his head.

His dark eyes locked onto his tormentors, piercing straight through their manufactured bravado. His tone was remarkably mild, and his facial expression was entirely indifferent, completely devoid of the rage they expected. He softly warned them, "If the two of you don't want to die today, you should hurry up and leave this place immediately."

Despite the quiet, unforced delivery of his words, an inexplicable, icy chill instantly washed over the immediate area. The temperature at the table seemed to plummet. The chilling aura completely silenced Julianna, freezing the scornful, rehearsed words right in her throat. She felt as though she had been plunged into freezing water, her body involuntarily stiffening as terror gripped her chest. She couldn't even force herself to look Julian in the eye.

After a long, suffocatingly heavy pause, Warren physically shook off the oppressive aura. Embarrassed that he had actually been intimidated by an ex-con, he abruptly erupted into a mask of theatrical, explosive rage, acting as if he had just suffered a grave, unforgivable insult.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Warren screamed at Julian, his face turning an ugly shade of red. "Why is a pathetic ex-convict acting all high and mighty?! You don't even dare to do a single thing while your girlfriend is up there marrying another man, so why the hell are you talking so big here?!"

Julianna rapidly recovered her nerve, emboldened by Warren’s loud outburst. She eagerly chimed in, jabbing a manicured finger toward Julian’s face. "Exactly!" she shrilly accused. "You're only venting your pathetic anger on us because you're far too terrified to actually offend the powerful, wealthy Morello Family! You know they would crush you like a bug, so you pick on us! Well, we aren't easy prey, Julian!"

Julian let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. He lowered his head once more to stare blankly at the rippling water in his glass. He muttered a final, quiet warning into the tension-filled air. "You really had better not provoke me."

But Warren was far past the point of listening. Desperate to curry extreme favor with the groom, Lucca—who was watching the unfolding drama from the main stage from afar—Warren saw this as his ultimate chance to prove his loyalty to the Morello empire.

With sudden, unpredictable violence, Warren lunged forward. His hands snatched out, completely hoisting Julian up by his cheap, unbranded collar. Warren dragged him roughly and violently from the chair, pulling Julian into his face.

Warren spat directly in Julian's face, drops of saliva hitting Julian's cheek. Cursing loudly, Warren declared to the entire room, "Damn it! I absolutely want to provoke you! Tell me, what would a piece of trash like you dare do to me at Mr. Lucca's prestigious wedding?!"

Before Warren could even finish his arrogant sentence, or make another aggressive move to strike, Julian moved.

He moved with blinding, terrifying speed. It was so fast that the surrounding guests didn't even register the shift in his posture until the sound hit them.

*Smack!*

Julian delivered a resounding, brutally powerful slap directly across Warren's sneering face.

The violent, explosive impact was horrifying. It physically lifted Warren entirely off his feet, the sheer kinetic force of the blow sending the grown man flying backward through the air like a discarded ragdoll.

Warren slammed incredibly hard against a fully set dining table a dozen feet away. The heavy wooden table didn't just tip over; it shattered instantly into a million splintered pieces upon impact. A deafening, chaotic crash echoed throughout the sprawling banquet hall as heavy wooden legs snapped, porcelain plates pulverized, and expensive crystal glasses shattered into a rain of razor-sharp shards.

Wealthy guests screamed in absolute terror, scrambling backward to avoid the flying debris.

The massive, earth-shattering commotion immediately drew every single eye in the sprawling banquet hall. The sheer violence of the act completely and utterly stole the attention away from Lucca and Sasha, who were left frozen and gaping on the main stage. The entire wedding ceremony ground to a screeching, breathless halt.

Standing at the perimeter, Salvatore Greco’s eyes lit up with malicious glee. Thrilled beyond belief that Julian had finally gotten physical and broken the peace, Salvatore saw that he finally had his perfectly justifiable reason for extreme revenge. He didn't have to hold back anymore.

Bellowing at the top of his lungs, his voice booming over the screams of the guests, Salvatore pointed a thick, heavily ringed finger at Julian. "Get him and kill him!"

Instantly, the atmosphere shifted from shock to lethal danger. A dozen heavily tattooed goons, who had been waiting for exactly this command, simultaneously drew their heavy steel batons from their jackets. With fierce, bloodthirsty roars, the mobsters charged aggressively toward the lone man standing amidst the wreckage.

Watching the violently lethal rush unfold before their very eyes, the surrounding wealthy guests unwittingly shook their heads in pity and sheer terror. They frantically stepped back, pressing themselves against the walls to avoid the incoming bloodbath. As the armed men closed the distance, their batons raised high to strike, every single person in the room was entirely certain that Julian had absolutely no hope of surviving the onslaught. They braced themselves to watch him be brutally beaten to death right there on the banquet floor.