RISE OF THE FORGOTTEN HEIR

Chapter 7 - preparing for the Storm

Ethan stood in the private gym the next morning, sweat already dripping down his back. The self-defense instructor circled him slowly, correcting his stance with sharp commands. "Keep your guard up. You are no longer the man who gets kicked in the mud. Strike with purpose."

Ethan threw a series of punches and blocks, each one landing harder than the last. His cracked ribs still protested, but the medicine and rest had given him enough strength to push through. Every strike carried the memory of Daniel's shove, the security guard's sneer, and the crowd's laughter outside the Crystal Crown Hotel. The pain from that night no longer paralyzed him. It fueled him.

"Again," Ethan said, breathing heavily. He repeated the combination until his muscles burned and his movements became smoother. The instructor nodded with approval. "Your speed is improving. More importantly, your will is strong. Most men would still be hiding after what you endured."

After the session, Ethan showered and changed into fresh clothes. Mr. Hayes waited for him in the study with a detailed file on the upcoming high-society banquet.

"The event is in three days at the Grand Aurora Hall," Mr. Hayes explained. "It is a charity gala hosted by several elite families, including the Harts and the Brooks. Many of the same people who witnessed your humiliation will be there. We can arrange for you to attend as a low-status guest. A supposed acquaintance of one of the smaller companies under the Cole Group."

Ethan studied the guest list. Sophia's name and Daniel's name stood out like wounds. "Good. Let them see me again. Let them mock me. Then we flip the script in front of everyone."

Mr. Hayes smiled faintly. "Exactly. You will arrive quietly. They will likely insult you publicly, thinking you are still the poor delivery boy. We will let the humiliation build. When the moment is right, I will arrive fashionably late as your butler. I will confirm your identity in front of the entire crowd. Their business partners who join in the mockery will turn on them instantly when they realize who you are."

Ethan's eyes darkened with cold resolve. "I want them to feel the same shame I felt. The same helplessness. In front of all those people who laughed at me."

The rest of the morning focused on etiquette and public speaking. The instructor drilled Ethan on how to stay calm under mockery, how to deliver cutting words without losing control, and how to command a room. Ethan practiced standing tall and speaking with quiet authority. His old habit of shrinking away was slowly being replaced by something sharper.

"You must let them dig their own graves," the instructor advised. "Do not interrupt their insults too early. Let the crowd join in. The bigger the mockery, the sweeter the reversal."

In the afternoon, Mia Chen brought updates in the digital intelligence room. "The subtle pressures are working. Daniel's family lost another supplier contract yesterday. Sophia's father is panicking about their company's reputation after the viral video. They are both attending the banquet to repair their image."

Ethan leaned forward. "Perfect. Release another small clip from the hotel night. Make it look like it came from an anonymous guest. Just enough to remind everyone what happened without revealing too much yet."

Mia nodded and began typing. "It will be done by tonight. The banquet will be the perfect stage."

Later, Ethan met with a small team of advisors to review basic business strategies. He asked practical questions based on his years of struggling on the streets. His insights surprised them. One advisor even commented, "You see opportunities where others see problems. That is rare."

As evening approached, Ethan walked through the gardens with Mr. Hayes. The sun was setting, painting the sky in deep reds and oranges. The peace of the estate felt almost surreal after the chaos of his old life.

"I keep replaying that night in my head," Ethan said quietly. "The rain. The ring in the mud. Sophia's disgusted face. Daniel's kick. The laughter. I want them to experience something similar. Not death. Not destruction yet. Just pure, public humiliation."

Mr. Hayes walked beside him calmly. "You will have that. The banquet is designed for it. We have arranged everything. Attendants will stop anyone who tries to physically remove you. When I arrive and announce your identity, the partners who mocked you will immediately distance themselves. Some may even terminate business ties on the spot. It will be the first of many such moments."

Ethan stopped by the fountain and looked at his reflection in the water. The man staring back had changed. His posture was straighter. His eyes held a cold fire. The bruises were almost gone, replaced by quiet confidence.

"I do not want to become like them," Ethan admitted. "Cruel for the sake of cruelty. But I cannot let them walk away without consequences. Not after what they did."

"You are finding the balance," Mr. Hayes replied. "Your mother had kindness. Your father had strength. You carry both. Use the pain as fuel, but let justice guide your hand."

That night, Ethan stood alone in the study before his parents' portrait. He whispered to the painting, "I will make you proud. And I will make those who broke me regret the day they laughed at the delivery boy."

He reviewed the final preparations for the banquet. The plan was set. He would arrive looking modest. Let Sophia and Daniel mock him again in front of the elite crowd. Let the bystanders join in the ridicule. Then, when the humiliation reached its peak, Mr. Hayes would arrive fashionably late.

The reversal would be devastating.

Ethan lay in bed that night, the scratched ring still tucked safely in the drawer. Sleep came with a mix of anticipation and resolve. The healing was progressing. The training was building his body and mind.

But most importantly, the stage for his first major public revenge was ready.

In three days, the people who had destroyed him in the rain would face him again.

This time, the crowd would not be laughing at him.

They would be watching him rise.