The Discarded Heir's Ultimate Revenge

Chapter 8: The bow

Ethan's chuckle echoed through the ballroom—low, dismissive, utterly unrepentant.

The crowd gasped collectively, their faces contorting with shock and gleeful anticipation. This nobody, this street rat, had just laughed in Marcus Sterling's face.

"Did he just—"

"He's signing his own death warrant!"

"Mr. Sterling will destroy him!"

Richard practically lunged forward, his face a mask of horrified fury. "Mr. Sterling, please, I sincerely apologize for this creature's disrespect! He's—he's mentally unstable! Completely deranged!"

"Marcus, darling," Vanessa purred, stepping forward with exaggerated concern, "you mustn't let this filth upset you. He's not worth the air he breathes."

Derek clutched his bleeding face, his voice shaking with righteous indignation. "Mr. Sterling, I beg you—let me handle this trash. I'll drag him out myself and—"

"Silence." Marcus's single word cut through the noise like a blade.

Everyone froze.

Marcus Sterling stood perfectly still, his sharp eyes locked on Ethan with an intensity that made several guests step back nervously. The power in the room had shifted, the air growing thick with tension.

"You dare laugh at me?" Marcus's voice was soft, deadly. "In a room full of witnesses?"

"I dare," Ethan replied calmly, his expression unchanged. "Dogs bark loudest when they're afraid. I was simply amused by the volume."

The ballroom erupted.

"He's insane!"

"Someone needs to beat sense into him!"

"Mr. Sterling, please, let us remove this garbage!"

Marcus raised his hand again, and silence fell instantly. His lips curved into a cold, dangerous smile. "You have courage, I'll grant you that. Foolish, suicidal courage, but courage nonetheless."

"It's not courage," a woman in the crowd spat. "It's stupidity. Rats in sewers have more sense than this creature."

"Even rats know when to run," a man agreed. "This one's too dumb to realize he's surrounded."

Richard stepped forward, practically bowing as he spoke. "Mr. Sterling, please, allow me to—"

"I said silence." Marcus didn't even glance at him. "I'm speaking with your uninvited guest."

Richard's face flushed with humiliation, but he immediately stepped back, practically trembling. The display wasn't lost on the crowd—Marcus Sterling's power was absolute. Even Richard Morrison, one of the city's elite, couldn't dare breathe without his permission.

Derek whispered to Vanessa, loud enough for others to hear, "Mr. Sterling's going to crush him like the insect he is. This will be beautiful."

"I hope it's slow," Vanessa murmured back, her ice-blue eyes glittering with malice. "I want to watch him crawl."

Marcus took a step closer to Ethan, his presence towering despite being only slightly taller. "Do you know who I am?"

"A senior manager in the Kidman family," Ethan said evenly. "Nothing more, nothing less."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. The casual dismissal in Ethan's tone—as if Marcus were merely a mid-level employee—sent shockwaves through the assembled elite.

"Nothing more?" A portly businessman's voice cracked. "He's one of the most powerful men in the city!"

"The Kidman family controls half the businesses here!" another woman shrieked. "Show some respect, you ignorant piece of—"

"Trash," someone else supplied. "That's all he is. Trash that doesn't know its place."

Marcus's smile widened, but his eyes remained cold. "Interesting. You know exactly who I am, yet you still choose disrespect." He clasped his hands behind his back, circling Ethan slowly like a predator examining prey. "I'll be magnanimous. Kneel. Apologize to everyone here for your behavior. Apologize to the Morrison family. And then you may leave. Quietly."

"How generous!" Celeste gushed. "Mr. Sterling, you're truly too kind to this animal!"

"More kindness than he deserves," Richard agreed, his voice dripping with gratitude. "Mr. Sterling, your mercy is—"

"I'm not apologizing," Ethan said flatly. "And I'm not leaving."

The ballroom exploded.

"What?"

"Did he just refuse?"

"He's dead! He's absolutely dead!"

Derek's face lit up with savage glee. "Yes! Refuse him! Please keep refusing him! I want to watch what happens next!"

Vanessa clutched Derek's arm, her eyes bright with anticipation. "This is better than I could have imagined. He's going to be destroyed."

Marcus stopped circling, his expression hardening into something truly dangerous. "You refuse."

"I do."

"You understand the consequences?"

"Perfectly."

Marcus's voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "Then tell me—who gave you the courage to cause trouble here? On Kidman family turf? Who put such foolish ideas in your head?"

The crowd leaned forward, hungry for blood.

"Nobody gave me courage," Ethan began.

"I did."

Rebecca's voice cut through the tension like ice through water. She stepped forward from where she'd been standing silently beside Ethan, her elegant black gown flowing around her like liquid shadow. Her expression remained cold, indifferent, as if the entire spectacle bored her.

The Morrison family erupted in mocking laughter.

"And who the hell are you?" Derek sneered, emboldened by Marcus's presence. "His handler? Did you train this mutt?"

"She's probably his sugar mama," Vanessa laughed cruelly. "Some desperate older woman who pays him for—"

"Shut your mouth," Richard snapped, though his eyes gleamed with malicious amusement. "Don't insult the lady. Though I must say, madam, your taste in companions is questionable at best."

"Questionable?" Celeste's voice dripped with venom. "It's revolting. A woman of apparent means associating with gutter trash. How embarrassing for you."

A man in the crowd stage-whispered, "Maybe she's mentally ill. That would explain it."

"Or desperate," a woman added. "So desperate she'll take anything with a pulse."

The laughter grew louder, crueler. Marcus watched Rebecca with narrowed eyes, his expression calculating.

"Marcus only needs to say one word," Richard declared confidently, practically preening. "One word, and both of you will be thrown out like the garbage you are!"

"Yes!" Derek pumped his fist. "Mr. Sterling, please! Give the order! Let us toss them into the street where they belong!"

"They're not even worth the street," someone shouted. "The sewer would be more appropriate!"

Marcus opened his mouth to speak—

And stopped.

His face, so confident and commanding moments before, drained of all color. His eyes, sharp and calculating, went wide with recognition and something that looked horrifyingly like terror.

Without warning, Marcus Sterling's hand shot out.

CRACK!

The slap echoed through the ballroom like a gunshot. Richard Morrison staggered backward, his hand flying to his reddening cheek, his expression a mask of stunned disbelief.

"Mr. Sterling?" Richard's voice was barely a whisper. "What—why—"

Marcus didn't answer. His entire body moved with a fluidity born of pure panic. He turned toward Rebecca, his hands trembling, and bowed—deeply, respectfully, the kind of bow reserved for royalty.