Attending The Wedding

Staring down at the ornate key resting heavy in his palm, Torin stammered, thoroughly overwhelmed by the gesture. "Mr. Mercer, this... this mansion is vastly too expensive. I cannot accept this!"

He immediately attempted to push the cold metal key back into Robert's hands. He was acutely aware of what the gift meant. Apex Bay was universally known as Oakhaven's most outrageously exclusive and breathtakingly scenic neighborhood. Constructed into the verdant, rolling slopes of the city's only mountain peak, it offered unparalleled panoramic views and pristine, crisp air. It was a gated fortress reserved strictly for billionaires, business magnates, and the elite ruling class. Ordinary citizens could not even fathom paying the exorbitant monthly property management fees, let alone dream of residing behind those heavily guarded iron gates.

Robert merely pushed Torin's hand back. A warm, unwavering smile stretched across the older man's weathered face. "Of course, you can, Mr. Voss! Or are you implying that my very life is not worth a single mansion?"

Unable to argue with a gesture so deeply earnest and logically flawless, Torin reluctantly curled his fingers around the ornate key. He did not want to appear ungrateful to a man who had humbled himself so deeply.

To further express his bottomless gratitude, Robert casually followed up the staggering real estate gift by pressing a sleek black bank card into Torin's free hand.

"There are ten million dollars in this account," Robert stated, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "Please, use it to ensure your mother is well taken care of."

Thoroughly defeated by the Mercers' sheer generosity and unable to politely refuse any longer, Torin quietly pocketed the extravagant gifts. He slipped the deed, the key, and the black card into his jacket. Their peaceful, celebratory meeting, however, was abruptly interrupted by a deafening, chaotic clamor echoing up from the floors below. The booming bass of festive music and the roar of a massive crowd rattled the elegant wooden doors of the private suite.

The terrified hotel manager, sweating profusely in his tailored uniform, rushed into the room. He dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief and quickly explained the situation. The massive noise was stemming directly from the Thorne family heir's massive wedding banquet, which was currently taking over the entire grand banquet hall on the second floor.

Hearing the Thorne name, Torin's eyes darkened. Deciding that it was finally time to take his leave and address his unresolved grievances, Torin nodded toward his gracious hosts. He bade the Mercers farewell and stepped out of the serene private suite, heading straight for the staircase.

As fate would have it, the very moment his boots stepped off the final marble stair, he bumped directly into Declan Thorne. The wealthy heir was arrogantly strutting into the sprawling grand lobby, wearing a pristine tailored tuxedo. Chloe was wrapped tightly in his arms, draped in an exquisite designer gown that caught the cascading light of the lobby chandeliers.

Declan paused mid-step. His eyes widened in mock surprise before he threw his head back and burst into loud, obnoxious guffaws. The cruel laughter echoed across the polished marble floors.

"Well, look who it is!" Declan loudly mocked, ensuring his booming voice drew the eyes of passing guests. He sneered, looking Torin up and down with deep disgust. "I genuinely didn't expect a pathetic ex-convict like you to actually show his face and attend my wedding. Tell me, Torin, are you just here to desperately scavenge for our free food and expensive liquor? Times must be tough for a struggling criminal."

Torin offered the mocking couple a frosty, unimpressed glance. He kept his silence, refusing to entertain the childish bait, and simply shifted his weight to walk past them toward the grand glass exit.

But Declan, eager to ruthlessly humiliate his old rival in front of his new bride, deliberately and aggressively stepped sideways. He planted his polished leather shoes firmly in front of Torin, using his body to physically block the path.

Chloe clung tighter to Declan's arm. She dismissed Torin without a single second glance, acting as if the casually dressed man standing mere inches away was nothing but an invisible speck of dirt, so far beneath her notice it was laughable.

Meanwhile, her mother, Sylvia, spotted the commotion and marched over. She eagerly seized the golden opportunity to unleash a vicious, high-pitched barrage of deeply personal insults.

"Why are you incessantly hounding us?" Sylvia loudly demanded, her shrill voice piercing the elegant atmosphere of the lobby. "Do you honestly think my beautiful, elegant daughter would ever in a million years take a fancy to your pathetic, peasant self? Look at the cheap way you are dressed! Go find a mirror and take a good, hard look at your own miserable reflection! Hurry up and buzz off instead of kicking up a pathetic fuss at our high-class event!"

Her screaming tirade acted as a magnet. The rapidly multiplying, wealthy relatives gathering in the lobby formed a circle around them. They pointed their manicured fingers, snickering and exchanging cruel, judgmental whispers.

Surrounded by the stinging mockery of the elite crowd, Torin forcibly suppressed the blazing, violent fury threatening to erupt from deep within him. His fists clenched at his sides. Instead of striking them down where they stood and ruining the venue, he lifted his chin. He stared dead into their mocking eyes and declared with chilling certainty, "One day, every single one of you will fall to your knees before me and desperately beg for mercy."

With that ominous, heavy promise hanging in the air, he stepped forward and forcefully shoved Declan's shoulder aside, intending to leave the hotel once and for all.

Declan stumbled backward, his expensive tuxedo rumpling. His brows knit together in sudden, explosive anger at the sheer disrespect shown in front of his wealthy guests. The arrogant heir aggressively pointed a shaking finger at Torin's retreating back.

"Stop him!" Declan roared to his security detail. "Regardless of whether you actually want to attend this wedding today, you are now going to be forcefully compelled to do so! I want you to sit there and watch my bride marry me with your own two eyes, you worthless piece of trash!"

At his immediate, screaming command, the bald enforcer Chop and several heavily tattooed men menacingly stepped forward from the shadows of the lobby pillars. They were all still nursing deep, painful grudges, their faces and limbs bearing the fresh, dark bruises from Torin's earlier beating back at the Bliss Avenue house. Moving swiftly, the massive goons formed a human wall and blocked the main exit.

Seeing his path cut off by the menacing thugs, Torin slowly turned his body back around to fully face his arrogant rival. His expression betrayed zero fear. With a perfectly calm, almost detached voice, he looked Declan in the eye and asked, "Are you sure you want me to attend this wedding?"

Declan sneered triumphantly, feeling he had regained the upper hand. "Yes!" he screamed, his face twisted in a cruel, victorious smirk. He reiterated his cruel desire, spitting, "I want to see you mentally broken by the sight of your own unworthiness!"

Torin held his gaze for a long moment. He replied evenly, stating, "All right, then."

But he immediately followed the quiet concession up with a dark, heavy word of warning. He stated as a matter of fact, "If I do indeed attend this wedding, you will not be getting married today."

Declan let out an uproarious, mocking laugh at the supposed bluff. He waved his hand dismissively, refusing to take the impoverished man's threat seriously.

Ignoring Declan's howling laughter, Torin turned on his heel. He casually strode directly up the grand staircase and stepped into the opulent, massive banquet hall on the second floor. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over a hundred lavishly decorated tables. He scanned the bustling room and calmly took a seat at a quiet, unoccupied table in the far corner.

Though a casually dressed, ordinary-looking man like him was severely out of place among Oakhaven's glittering, wealthy elite, he remained expressionless. Ignoring the glares of passing waiters, he reached forward and casually nibbled on the expensive table snacks.

Chop and a dozen aggressive goons followed closely behind. They took up positions hovering dangerously nearby, crossing their thick arms and watching his every single move like predatory hawks, ready to pounce the moment he stepped out of line.

It did not take long for the scandalous word of his identity to spread. The rumor that the bride's impoverished, criminal ex-boyfriend had crashed the wedding spread like wildfire from table to table. The wealthy guests turned their collective attention toward the dark corner. They directed intense, mocking, and derisive stares his way, treating him like an unwanted zoo exhibit.

The low hum of their cruel, echoing murmurs was suddenly and sharply shattered by the arrival of a seductively dressed woman sporting heavy, excessive makeup. She sashayed confidently across the plush carpet, making a beeline directly for Torin's isolated table.

"Torin Voss!" she obnoxiously sneered his full name, resting her hands on her hips. A wicked, mocking smile painted her bright red lips. "When exactly were you released from prison?"

She deliberately projected her shrill voice, ensuring the cruel question echoed across the silent room. Her loud, cutting words instantly snagged the undivided attention of everyone nearby. The previous, quiet mockery rolling through the crowd instantly morphed into profound, wide-eyed intrigue at the shocking public revelation of his criminal record.