The Northern Warlord Returns

CHAPTER 5

The Milatel Palace Hotel was the most exquisite suite in the Northern Hemisphere.

The engagement party of the year was in full swing, packed to the brim with the most ruthless corporate elites, snobbish socialites, and high-ranking officials across the five cities.

At the center of it all was Audrey Rossman, draped in a breathtaking, custom-made crimson Chanel gown that hugged her curves with elegance, paired with limited-edition DaVinci heels and a blinding million-dollar diamond necklace.

She looked like royalty, but inside, she was suffocating in a cage of concern about Sean Thickcup’s uncultured character.

A few yards away, Sean Thickcup stood with his arms crossed, beaming with the smug, entitled pride of a predator who had finally cornered his prize.

Mr. Morgan Rossman moved through the crowd like a king, accepting congratulations from every side, entirely convinced that this strategic alliance with the Thickcup family had solidified his empire for the next century.

The double doors at the entrance of the grand hall swung open, drawing a few curious glances from the nearest guests.

Richard Eagle and Oscar stepped quietly past the security checkpoints, slipping into the massive room like ghosts unnoticed in the sea of tailored tuxedos.

Richard wore a simple, cheap off-the-rack dark suit that stood out among the designer labels, acting strictly as Oscar’s low-level logistics and administrative assistant.

To anyone looking their way, Oscar was a mid-tier visiting contractor, and Richard was just his pathetic, broken lackey carrying a slim leather folder.

They blended into the shadows near the back bar, observing the flashing cameras, the flowing champagne, and the dizzying display of wealth.

"Look at them celebrating their little circus," Oscar muttered under his breath, keeping his eyes forward as he adjusted his cuffs.

"Let them enjoy the music while it lasts," Richard replied, his voice cold and entirely devoid of emotion.

Across the room, amidst the laughter and clinking glasses, Sean’s eyes happened to sweep past the rear corner.

His eyes popped out.

His gaze locked onto the familiar, stiff posture of the man standing quietly in the cheap suit.

A slow, vicious grin spread across Sean’s face, twisting his features into a cruel amusement.

He nudged a nearby friend, pointed a finger directly toward the shadows, and whispered something that caused a ripple of snickering to break out among the group of young elites.

Without warning, Sean raised his hand and signaled the live band to cut the music.

The vibrant melody died away instantly, leaving a heavy, echoing silence to fall over the hundreds of guests gathered in the ballroom.

He grabbed a wireless microphone from the nearest waiter, stepping up onto the raised stage and scanning the crowd with a triumphant smirk.

"Ladies and gentlemen, before we continue celebrating this wonderful night, I think we have some uninvited entertainment," Sean announced, his voice booming effortlessly through the high-end sound system.

Necks snapped around in unison, dozens of pairs of eyes following the angle of Sean’s pointing finger straight toward the back bar.

Spotlight operators, trained to follow the drama, suddenly swung a bright, blinding white beam directly onto Richard and Oscar.

In a heartbeat, gasps and whispers rippled through the crowd as the socialites turned to stare.

"Well, well, well," Sean sneered into the microphone, his voice dripping with condescension as he paced slowly across the stage.

"Look who crawled out from whatever damp rock he was hiding under. Did you sneak in here to beg for table scraps, Richard? Or are you just desperate to watch another man claim your leftovers?"

Outraged murmurs and cruel laughter filled the room.

Mr. Morgan stiffened, his face twisting into an expression of absolute disgust as he recognized the disgraced former soldier.

He marched through the parting crowd, stopping just a few feet away from Richard with his nose turned up in the air.

"You were a useless, dragging anchor to my daughter when you wore a uniform, and now you're just a pathetic beggar crashing high-class events," Mr. Morgan spat, his voice trembling with genuine venom.

"Get out of my sight before I have security throw you out into the street like a mangy stray dog."

Audrey, standing near the front of the stage, felt her breath catch violently in her throat.

Her eyes widened in horror as she saw Richard standing quietly under the harsh light, dressed in that cheap, ill-fitting suit.

A sharp, unbearable pang of guilt and pity twisted her stomach into knots.

She wanted to scream at her father and Sean to shut up, wanting desperately to run over and shield him from the cruel humiliation, but her feet felt glued to the floor.

Instead of shrinking away in shame or dropping his head like a beaten animal, Richard slowly lifted his chin.

He looked Sean dead in the eye, a cold, razor-sharp smirk forming on his lips.

"Enjoy wearing stolen clothes, Sean," Richard spoke clearly, his voice carrying easily across the hushed, stunned ballroom.

Silence hung heavy in the room

Sean’s arrogant smile faltered for a microsecond, replaced by a flash of genuine fury at being talked down to by a penniless fallen soldier.

Before Sean could lash out, Oscar stepped forward into the spotlight, perfectly executing his role according to their silent script.

Oscar’s face feigned corporate rage.

He raised his hand and shoved hard against Richard’s shoulder, stumbling him back a step, shouting at the top of his lungs so every single guest could hear.

"I told you to wait in the car, you clumsy, nitwitted idiot!" Oscar roared, his voice shaking with pretentious anger.

"You're always running your mouth when you should be keeping your head down! Stop embarrassing our struggling firm with your pathetic, delusional talk! Apologize to Mr. Morgan right now, you worthless piece of trash!"

The entire ballroom erupted into loud, howling laughter.

Guests pointed fingers, shaking their heads at the sheer absurdity of a low-level assistant getting publicly chewed out by his own boss right in the middle of a multi-million-dollar engagement party.

Sean burst into loud, mocking hysterics, clutching his stomach as if he had just heard the funniest joke of the century.

"Even your boss treats you like absolute garbage!" Sean shouted into the mic, tears of laughter gathering in his eyes.

"You're a pathetic, crippled joke, Richard! Get lost before I have security break your other leg!"

Audrey closed her eyes tightly, hot tears burning behind her lids as the humiliation washed over her like ice water.

In the dim shadows on the stage lights, away from the gaze of the laughing crowd, Richard and Oscar briefly locked eyes.

In that fraction of a second, there was no anger, pain, or defeat in Richard's gaze, only a dark, terrifying amusement.

In a split-second, Oscar caught his boss's wink, while holding himself from laughing so hard in public.

It was a code of dominance masked entirely behind their public performance, a silent signal that the hole had been dug.

Rossman-Thickcup families were laughing, completely blind, basking in their own foolish arrogance, while the men they had just belittled held all the cards.

"Let's go," Richard muttered softly, turning on his heel calmly.

Oscar huffed loudly for the audience's benefit, shoving Richard one last time.

"Get out of my sight before I fire you on the spot!" Oscar yelled after him, playing his part to absolute perfection.

Richard turned and walked away toward the exit doors, his strides steady.

The crowd continued to laugh and point, writing Richard Eagle off entirely as a broken, delusional nobody who had no relevance in society.

Only if they knew!

High on their elevated stage, Sean and Mr. Morgan raised their champagne glasses to the cheering crowd, blissfully unaware that the man who had just walked out the door was the exact shadow about to swallow their empire whole.

Tick-Tick!!!