The Discarded Heir's Ultimate Revenge

Chapter 7:The mad dogs

Derek's fist swung through the air, aimed directly at Ethan's face. The crowd gasped, some stepping back, others leaning forward with morbid anticipation.

Ethan sidestepped effortlessly. His own fist connected with Derek's jaw—a sharp, precise blow that sent his half-brother sprawling across the polished marble floor.

"You—" Derek clutched his face, fresh blood seeping through the makeup. "You hit me again! In front of everyone!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Vanessa shrieked, rushing to Derek's side. "Security! Where the hell is security?"

Heavy footsteps thundered through the ballroom. Six security guards burst through the doors, their faces grim and professional—until they saw Ethan.

The lead guard froze, his hand halfway to his radio. Recognition flashed across his features, followed immediately by fear. "You."

"Problem?" Ethan's voice was casual.

"I—no, sir." The guard's adam's apple bobbed. "No problem at all."

"What?" Richard's face turned purple. "What do you mean 'no problem'? This animal just assaulted my son! Remove him immediately!"

The security guard shifted uncomfortably. "Sir, this gentleman has a VIP family invitation. We can't—"

"I don't care what he has!" Celeste screamed. "Throw him out! Now!"

"Ma'am, we physically cannot—"

"Are you all completely useless?" Derek staggered to his feet, still clutching his bleeding face. "He's a street rat! A nobody! Just grab him and—"

"The gentleman was verified at the gate," another guard interrupted, his voice tight. "With proper credentials. We have no authority to—"

"Since when does trash carry credentials?" A woman in the crowd laughed mockingly. "Did he steal them? Forge them?"

"Probably begged someone for a pity invitation," a man in an expensive suit sneered. "Like the parasite he is."

"A flea on a dog's back has more dignity," another voice called out. "At least fleas know they're parasites."

Ethan stood perfectly still, his expression one of mild boredom. Rebecca beside him maintained her cold, indifferent demeanor, examining her nails as if the spectacle barely merited her attention.

"Look at him," Vanessa hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "Standing there like he belongs. Like he's something more than the gutter trash he crawled out of."

"Worse than trash," an elderly woman spat. "Trash gets thrown away quietly. This creature keeps crawling back like a diseased cockroach."

Derek wiped blood from his lip, his eyes blazing with humiliation and rage. "You think you're so clever, don't you? Coming here with your fake invitation, your pathetic little rebellion. You're nothing. A worm. Less than a worm. At least worms serve a purpose in the dirt where they belong."

"The dirt wouldn't even want him," someone laughed. "Too contaminated."

The massive ballroom doors swung open with a theatrical flourish. A hush fell over the crowd as a tall, distinguished man in his early fifties entered, his presence commanding immediate attention. Marcus Sterling—Vincent Kidman's Company senior manager and the public face of Kidman Holdings—strode into the room with the confidence of old money and established power.

"Marcus!" Richard's face transformed, rage melting into obsequious delight. "You're here! Finally!"

"Mr. Sterling!" Derek rushed forward, momentarily forgetting his bleeding face. "We're so honored—"

"Marcus, darling!" Vanessa's voice turned sickeningly sweet. "We've been waiting for you!"

The crowd surged forward, a wave of desperate sycophants and social climbers.

"Mr. Sterling, it's such a pleasure—"

"The partnership is truly inspired—"

"Your family's wisdom in choosing the Morrisons—"

Marcus raised a hand, silencing them instantly. His sharp eyes swept the room, taking in the scene—Derek's bloodied face, the scattered guests, the security guards standing awkwardly near Ethan.

"What," Marcus said coldly, "is going on here?"

"This animal attacked me!" Derek pointed at Ethan, his voice shaking with indignation. "Twice! He forced his way in here with a forged invitation and assaulted me in my own home!"

"He's been making wild accusations!" Celeste added shrilly. "Threatening us! Lying about our family!"

"He's insane," Vanessa declared. "Completely unhinged. He can't accept that I chose a real man over him."

The crowd erupted in agreement.

"He's been harassing the Morrison family for weeks!"

"I heard he embezzled company funds before they kicked him out!"

"Criminal behavior, absolutely criminal—"

"Someone should call the police!"

Marcus's gaze finally settled on Ethan, his expression unreadable. "And you are?"

Ethan met his stare calmly. "Just a guest attending the banquet. Though I seem to have stumbled into a kennel of mad dogs. The barking is quite excessive."

The ballroom went deathly silent.

Derek's face turned crimson. "How dare you—"

"Mad dogs?" Richard's voice was ice. "You insolent little—"

"Kennel?" Vanessa's shriek could have shattered glass. "You're calling us animals?"

"If the collar fits," Ethan said mildly.

Marcus's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Mad dogs. An interesting choice of words." He took a step forward, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "Tell me, guest—who exactly do you think you are?"