Chapter 4
The grand hall descended into absolute, paralyzed silence, broken only by the wet, pathetic groaning of Robert Reed as he writhed helplessly within the ruins of the massive celebration cake. The vibrant, bright colors of the frosting were smeared across his ruined designer suit, mixing violently with the dark crimson blood pouring from his shattered nose. The fair, rosy skin of the surrounding guests had completely drained of color, turning them into a ring of horrified, pale statues.
"Oh my God! Somebody call the police!" one of the aunts shrieked, her American accent trembling with sheer terror as she backed away from the shattered crystal on the floor.
"Don't anyone dare touch a phone," Thomas commanded, his voice a low, lethal rumble that instantly silenced the woman. He didn't even look at her; his blazing eyes remained locked onto Helen, who was trembling violently near the destroyed cake table.
"You... you animal!" Helen shrieked, her hands flying to her mouth in shock. Her immaculate, brightly colored silk blouse heaved as she struggled to process the violence. "You attacked your own father! You have lost your mind, Thomas! You will go to prison for this!"
"Prison?" Thomas laughed, a harsh, humorless sound that sent chills down the spines of the onlookers. He took a slow, deliberate step toward his mother, the glass crunching loudly beneath his heavy work shoes. "You think the police are going to arrest me? I am standing in my own house, defending my children from a pair of psychotic abusers."
"Your house?" Helen spat, her face twisting with desperate, arrogant denial. "This is our estate! We allowed you to live in the guest wing because you are a failure who can't even keep a wife!"
"Daddy, I'm scared," Rebecca whispered from behind him, her small hands clutching the back of his work shirt.
The sound of his daughter’s trembling voice instantly grounded Thomas. The fiery, explosive rage shifted into a cold, calculating, and terrifyingly precise focus. He reached behind him without looking, resting a large, comforting hand on Rebecca's head.
"I know you are, baby. It's almost over," Thomas said softly to his children, before turning his attention back to his mother. The shift in his demeanor was jarring. He looked at Helen not as a mother, but as an infection that needed to be surgically removed.
"You still believe the lie you created for your country club friends, don't you, Helen?" Thomas asked, his voice echoing in the bright, natural light of the room. "You still tell everyone that I am a struggling laborer, and that you and Robert are the wealthy benefactors supporting my tragic, motherless children."
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"Because it is the truth!" Helen yelled, tears of humiliation finally welling in her eyes as she looked at her husband, who was currently spitting out cake and blood onto the marble floor. "Robert built this family!"
"Robert bankrupted this family five years ago," Thomas stated clearly, his voice carrying to every single guest in the room. The absolute certainty in his tone caused a ripple of shocked whispers among the relatives. "And it is time everyone in this room knew exactly how this party was funded."
