THE SAVIOR GOD OF WAR RETURNS

Chapter 7

Sarah Thompson's eyes never left Jack's face as she stepped closer, her presence commanding the attention of everyone in the ballroom. The crystal chandeliers cast golden light across her features, highlighting the determination in her gaze.

"Jack," she said, her voice clear and unwavering, "I want you to be my boyfriend."

The words hung in the air for a heartbeat before the room erupted into gasps and whispers. Wine glasses froze halfway to lips. Conversations died mid-sentence. Even the jazz quartet in the corner missed a note, the saxophone trailing off into silence.

"Did she just—?" "Sarah Thompson? THE Sarah Thompson?" "Is this actually happening?"

Emily Wilson felt her world tilt sideways. The crimson dress she wore suddenly felt too tight, too hot, too visible. Her cheeks burned with a mixture of humiliation and disbelief. Just minutes ago, she had dismissed Jack as beneath her—and now Sarah Thompson, CEO of the Thompson Group and arguably the most powerful woman in Harmonfield, was publicly declaring interest in him.

This can't be real, Emily thought, her heart hammering against her ribs. There must be some mistake. Some game being played.

Jack's expression remained unreadable as he stood before Sarah, his posture relaxed yet alert. His eyes—dark and perceptive—studied her face as though searching for something hidden.

"I can't give you an answer right now," he replied, his voice calm and measured. "Let's talk later."

Another wave of gasps rippled through the crowd. William Thompson raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips. Daniel Thompson watched with unconcealed fascination.

"Did he just...turn her down?" "Is he insane? That's Sarah Thompson!" "No man has ever—"

But Sarah didn't seem offended. Instead, a smile curved her lips—not the practiced social smile she usually wore at events, but something genuine and almost... pleased.

"Alright," she said, her voice softer now. "I'll wait for you."

Patricia Wilson clutched her husband's arm so tightly he winced. "Michael," she hissed, "what is happening? Who is this man?"

Michael shook his head slowly, his face pale. "I don't know," he whispered back. "But we've made a terrible mistake."

On the other side of the room, Ryan Brooks seethed. His cheek still stung from Jack's slaps, but the pain was nothing compared to the burning humiliation coursing through him. He watched as several young men—sons of billionaires, heirs to vast fortunes—stared at Jack with naked envy.

"Bastard," Ryan muttered under his breath. "He must have something on them. Some sort of leverage."

Jack tugged at the cuff of his plain black shirt, seeming entirely unconcerned with the commotion he'd caused. "If that's all," he said, addressing no one in particular, "I'll be going."

He turned and walked toward the exit, his gait unhurried and deliberate. The crowd parted before him like water.

Sarah Thompson watched him for a moment, then—to everyone's shock—she followed, falling into step beside him.

"I'll walk you out," she said, her voice carrying just enough for those nearby to hear.

William Thompson let out a hearty laugh and clapped his hands together once. "Well, this has been the most interesting New Year's Eve in quite some time," he announced to the room at large. Then he too followed Jack and Sarah, with Daniel close behind.

The four of them—Jack Parker and the entire Thompson family—exited the Wilson Group's New Year's celebration together, leaving a vacuum of power and a hurricane of speculation in their wake.

Emily remained rooted to the spot, her mind racing to make sense of what had just transpired. She had rejected Jack Parker's claim to be her fiancé. She had mocked him, offered him money like a beggar, and treated him with disdain. And now...

"Emily," her father's voice broke through her thoughts. Michael Wilson looked ten years older than he had at the beginning of the evening. "What have we done?"

Before she could answer, Ryan stepped forward, his eyes blazing with anger and alcohol. "Nothing," he spat. "We've done nothing wrong. That guy—Jack Parker—he's nobody. He's nothing. He just has the Thompsons fooled somehow."

"Fooled?" Patricia echoed, her voice tinged with hysteria. "The Thompsons? William Thompson has built an empire on being able to read people. Sarah Thompson has rejected billionaires without blinking. And you think they're both fooled by some...some nobody?"

Ryan's face darkened further. "My father will hear about this. The Brooks family has connections too. We'll find out who this Jack Parker really is, and when we do—"

"When you do what?" came a cold voice from behind them.

They turned to find Daniel Thompson had re-entered the ballroom. He stood near the doorway, hands in his pockets, his expression casually dangerous.

"Mr. Thompson," Ryan stammered, "I was just saying—"

"I know what you were saying," Daniel interrupted. "Threats don't become you, Mr. Brooks. Especially when they're directed at someone under the Thompson family's protection."

Emily stepped forward, desperate to salvage something from the disaster the evening had become. "Daniel," she said, using his first name in an attempt at familiarity, "there's clearly been a misunderstanding. If Jack truly is...someone important...then we owe him an apology. But you must understand, he came in here claiming to be my fiancé based on some old contract—"

"A contract your grandfather confirmed was real," Daniel pointed out. "A contract honoring a debt that saved your family."

Emily swallowed hard. "Yes, but times have changed. Surely you don't expect me to marry a complete stranger because of some ancient agreement?"

Daniel's expression remained neutral. "What I expect, Miss Wilson, is for people to honor their commitments. Your grandfather made a promise. Your family broke it." He glanced around the room, taking in the luxurious surroundings. "The Wilson Group has prospered because of the foundation Joseph Parker helped build. And yet, when his grandson arrived, you treated him like dirt beneath your shoe."

The truth of his words struck Emily like a physical blow. She had judged Jack entirely on his appearance, his simple clothes, his unassuming demeanor. She had never once considered that there might be more to him than met the eye.

What if I've thrown away something precious? The thought slithered into her mind unbidden. What if Jack Parker was meant to be mine, and I've lost him to Sarah Thompson?

"It's not too late," she found herself saying. "I can speak to Jack, explain—"

Daniel's laugh cut her off. It wasn't cruel, merely amused. "I'm afraid it is too late, Miss Wilson. You made your choice quite clear. And Sarah..." he smiled slightly, "Sarah always knows what she wants."

With that, he turned and left, the heavy doors closing behind him with a definitive thud.

Outside in the clear winter night, Jack stood on the steps of the Wilson building, looking up at the stars. The city lights of Harmonfield dimmed their brilliance, but a few of the brightest still pierced through.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Sarah said, coming to stand beside him. "Sometimes I wonder what they'd look like without all this artificial light drowning them out."

Jack glanced at her. Up close, he could see the faint scar near her temple—a reminder of the attack he'd intervened in earlier that day.

"I meant what I said in there," she continued, her breath forming small clouds in the cold air. "I want you to be mine, Jack Parker."

"You don't know me," he replied simply.

She smiled. "I know enough. I know you saved my life today without hesitation. I know you came here to honor a commitment your grandfather made. I know you walked away from a million-dollar check because your pride meant more. And I know," her voice dropped slightly, "that there's more to you than anyone in this city suspects."

William and Daniel joined them at the bottom of the steps.

"Jack," William said warmly, "my offer stands. Come to our home tonight. We have much to discuss."

Jack considered for a moment, then nodded. "Very well."

As they walked toward the waiting Thompson cars—sleek, black vehicles with tinted windows—Jack felt a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. He turned to see Emily Wilson watching from the ballroom window above, her figure silhouetted against the golden light inside.

Their eyes met briefly across the distance. Then Jack turned away, dismissing her from his thoughts as easily as she had dismissed him earlier.

Inside the ballroom, Emily watched Jack disappear into one of the Thompson cars, Sarah by his side. The party continued around her, but it felt hollow now, like a play where all the principal actors had departed, leaving only the extras to mill about on stage.

Ryan approached, two glasses of champagne in hand. "Don't worry about it," he said, offering her one. "My father knows people. We'll find out who this Jack Parker really is, and then—"

"Then what?" Emily snapped, ignoring the proffered drink. "Did you see how the Thompsons treated him? Did you see Sarah look at him? Whatever Jack Parker is, he's clearly someone with power. Real power."

Ryan's expression darkened. "He humiliated me in front of everyone. He hit me. No one does that to a Brooks and walks away."

But Emily barely heard him. Her mind was replaying the moment Jack had torn up both the contract and her check. The casual way he'd dismissed a million dollars. The way he'd stood, unflinching, in a room full of people mocking him.

And now, Sarah Thompson—brilliant, beautiful, powerful Sarah—wanted him as her own.

What have I missed? Emily wondered, a sinking feeling in her stomach. What did Sarah see that I didn't?