Rebirth of Vengeance

CHAPTER 5 — Blood on Marble Floors

“You look smaller up close.”

The words followed him halfway to the exit. He stopped. Slowly, he turned around. Evan stood a few steps behind him now, drink still in hand, smile relaxed, too relaxed.

The crowd had loosened again, laughter returning in cautious waves, but something brittle hung in the air. Curiosity. Anticipation. “What did you say?” he asked.

Evan tilted his head. “I said you look smaller. Guess stepping out of the spotlight does that to a man.”

She spun toward Evan. “That’s enough.”

“No,” Evan said lightly. “He started this. I’m just finishing the conversation.”

He stepped closer, voice dropping. “You know what she used to say about you?”

He didn’t answer. “She said you were essential,” Evan continued. “Like scaffolding. Necessary while the building goes up.”

A few guests leaned closer. “Then you tear it down,” Evan said, smiling. “Because no one wants to see it once the view is finished.”

“That’s not true,” she snapped.

Evan glanced at her. “Isn’t it?”

He looked back at the man in front of him. “You quit your job. Changed diapers. Cooked dinners. Sat quietly while she built an empire.”

He laughed softly. “All that effort, and you still didn’t see it coming.”

The room seemed to narrow. “What exactly do you think I didn’t see?” he asked.

Evan took a sip of champagne. “The blind spots.”

Her breath hitched. Evan noticed. “Oh,” he said, amused. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Stop,” she warned.

“You know,” Evan went on, “the funny thing about security cameras is that people assume they’re everywhere.”

He stepped closer. Too close. “But there’s always somewhere they don’t reach.”

The marble beneath his feet felt suddenly cold. Evan’s voice lowered further. “Maintenance corridors. Rooftops. Places no one thinks to check.”

The world went quiet. “Funny,” Evan said. “That’s where accidents happen.”

He saw it then. Not the threat. The confirmation. “You were there,” he said softly.

Evan’s smile widened. “I told you, you shouldn’t have come back.”

Something broke. Not loudly. Cleanly. His hand moved before the thought finished forming.

The punch landed hard, snapping Evan’s head to the side. The glass shattered as it hit the floor. Gasps exploded around them.

Evan staggered back, shock flashing across his face. “Are you”

The second punch dropped him. Evan hit the marble floor with a sound like meat on stone. Someone screamed. He didn’t hear it. He was already moving.

He grabbed Evan by the collar and slammed his head down once. Twice. Blood sprayed, bright and obscene, against the white marble. “Stop!” someone shouted.

He didn’t. A knee drove into Evan’s ribs. “You thought I was harmless,” he said, voice eerily calm. “That I’d stay quiet.”

Evan coughed, blood bubbling at his lips. “You’re”

He hit him again. Cameras flashed. Security shouted. Hands grabbed at his shoulders. He shrugged them off like inconveniences.

“You don’t get to talk about my life,” he said. “You don’t get to joke about my death.”

Someone tried to pull him back. He elbowed them without looking. Evan whimpered now. Not smug. Not confident. Small. He leaned close. “Did she watch?”

Evan’s eyes flicked past him. “Yes,” Evan croaked. “She always does.”

That was when he laughed. It startled even him. A sharp, breathless sound that cut through the chaos. “Oh,” he said. “Good.”

Security finally dragged him back. Evan lay motionless, blood spreading beneath his head like a dark halo. She screamed. Not his name.

“Do you know what this will do to the stock?” she shrieked. “Do you have any idea?”

He turned to her, breathing hard, shirt spattered red. For the first time, she looked afraid. Not of him. Of the room. Of the cameras.

Of the headlines. “This is a disaster,” she hissed. “You’ve ruined everything.”

He wiped blood from his knuckles with surprising care. “No,” he said. “I fixed something.”

Security held him tight now. She stepped closer, voice shaking. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“No,” he replied. “I found it.”

Sirens wailed in the distance. Guests whispered. Phones stayed raised. He leaned toward her, close enough that only she could hear. “We’re getting a divorce,” he said calmly.

Her eyes widened. “Tonight.”

Her mouth opened. No words came out. He smiled at her then, not cruelly. Decisively. The security guards began dragging him toward the exit.

Behind him, blood stained the marble. Ahead of him, the future waited, no longer quiet, no longer patient. And for the first time since he’d opened his eyes again, He enjoyed the pain he was causing.