Avenge His Grudge

Torin slowly raises his eyes, staring with blatant, unapologetic repugnance at the woman standing before his table. Valerie Bates. Her face is currently caked in an absurdly thick layer of heavy makeup, a stark contrast to the fresh-faced university student she once was. Torin vividly recalls that during their university days, Valerie had aggressively chased after him. At the time, his father held a secure, respected civil servant job, making Torin a desirable catch in the eyes of many social climbers. He had firmly rejected her advances, ultimately choosing to date Chloe instead, foolishly believing at the time that Chloe was inherently less materialistic and more genuine. Looking at the heavy powder on Valerie's mocking face, a bitter, internal cynicism twists in his chest. They are the exact same breed of greedy opportunists. He had just been too blind to see it.

Standing right beside the sneering Valerie is Jaxon Wolfe. Torin’s gaze drifts to his former college roommate. Torin knows well that during their college years, Jaxon had always secretly harbored a deep, bitter, and envious crush on Chloe, constantly resenting Torin's success in winning her heart. Emboldened by Torin’s stoic, seemingly passive silence, Jaxon steps forward with a nasty sneer plastered across his face. He puffs out his chest, loudly and mockingly pointing out to the surrounding crowd of wealthy guests how the once-impressive, respected student council president has fallen from grace, reducing himself to nothing more than a pathetic, worthless ex-convict.

Accurately guessing that Chloe had deliberately invited these specific former classmates solely to witness his utter humiliation, Torin simply lowers his head again. The realization does not spark rage; it only solidifies his profound apathy toward the woman he once loved. He casually picks up his glass and takes a slow, relaxed sip of his water, acting unbothered by their childish, venomous taunts.

Mistaking his profound calmness for paralyzing fear and submission, the obnoxious pair quickly grows even more arrogant and smug. Jaxon leans in close, planting his hands on the table. "Since you just got out of a cell, I doubt you have prospects," he drawls, his voice dripping with venom. "I could use my connections to recommend you for a disgusting, minimum-wage toilet-cleaning job. A criminal like you needs to eat. After all, your father lost his prestigious job. He is tragically unemployed and destitute now. You can't leech off him anymore."

Valerie immediately chimes in, giggling hysterically behind her manicured hand, and maliciously suggests that street sweeping would be a far more appropriate career path for his filthy family. Their cruel, rapid-fire taunts instantly draw a chorus of raucous, booming laughter from the hovering enforcer, Chop, and the surrounding wealthy guests, who are all eagerly enjoying the brutal public execution of Torin's dignity. They clutch their champagne flutes, pointing at the corner table with mocking grins.

Slowly, with an air of absolute, terrifying calm, Torin raises his head once more. The lingering smile on Jaxon's face falters. Torin’s facial expression remains indifferent, his features slack, but when he finally speaks, his tone is mild yet laced with a chilling, blood-curdling gravity. He quietly advises the two of them that if they do not wish to die today, they need to hurry up and leave this place immediately.

The sheer coldness in his voice causes a sudden, icy dread to wash over both Valerie and Jaxon, momentarily freezing them in place. It feels as though a shadow has breathed down the backs of their necks. But that fleeting, instinctual fear quickly twists into a deeply insulted, explosive rage. Jaxon’s face contorts with fury as he aggressively barks back, demanding to know why Torin is still trying to act all high and mighty when he is nothing but a worthless ex-convict.

Jaxon loudly and mockingly screams that Torin doesn't even dare to do a single thing to stop his own girlfriend from marrying someone else right in front of him, yet he sits there talking big. Valerie eagerly joins the tirade, screeching loudly that Torin is only trying to vent his pathetic frustrations on them because he is terrified of offending the incredibly wealthy and powerful Thorne family.

Torin simply lowers his gaze back to his water glass, muttering a final, quiet warning that they really had better not provoke him any further. Jaxon's eyes dart toward the main stage. Declan Thorne stands there, watching the commotion with a sadistic smirk. Desperate to seize this golden opportunity to publicly curry favor with the powerful heir, Jaxon decides to escalate the confrontation. He lunges forward, his hands aggressively seizing Torin tightly by the collar of his faded shirt. With a grunt, Jaxon forcefully hoists the seated young man up from his chair in a display of brute intimidation.

"What are you going to do about it?" Jaxon snarls, raising his free fist. Before Jaxon can even pull his arm back to deliver a strike, Torin moves with blinding speed. He delivers a brutally fast, resounding slap directly across Jaxon's smug face. The sharp crack echoes like a gunshot over the murmuring crowd. The vicious, concussive impact of the strike is so immensely powerful that it instantly sends Jaxon's body flying backward through the air.

Jaxon crashes brutally into a nearby, feast-laden banquet table, which immediately splinters and collapses into a million pieces beneath his crushing weight. The deafening sound of shattering porcelain plates, snapping silverware, and exploding crystal glasses echoes throughout the cavernous air of the banquet hall. Wine splatters across the floor, turning the opulent setting into a scene of chaotic destruction.

The sudden, explosive noise instantly draws the wide-eyed, stunned gazes of the entire room, halting the wedding proceedings and drawing the immediate attention of both Declan and Chloe up on the main stage. Instead of being angry at the disruption, the corners of Declan's mouth turn up into a dark, sadistic smile, eager to watch his rival get destroyed. Thrilled to finally have a legally justifiable reason to exact his bloody revenge, the nearby enforcer Chop roars at his men to get Torin and kill him on the spot.

Without a second of hesitation, a dozen heavily armed goons instantly draw thick rubber batons from their tailored suits and charge forward with murderous intent, their heavy boots thudding against the carpet. Watching the brutal, disproportionate scene rapidly unfold before them, the wealthy guests unwittingly shake their heads in pity and disgust. They adjust their ties and look away from the impending carnage, firmly convinced that the lone, scrawny Torin has no hope of surviving the impending onslaught.