Chapter 90: A lasting impression
Theodore’s eyes sharpened as soon as those words landed in his ears. "Stop!" he commanded.
The guards immediately stepped back, and the buzzing of the power saw ceased. A heavy silence descended upon the room, punctuated only by Marcus’s low groans of pain and fear.
Theodore squatted down, grabbing Marcus by the collar, and pulling him close. "Speak," he hissed, his eyes blazing with intensity.
Marcus gasped, recalling the incident from some months before. He remembered the searing rage he felt after losing yet another game to Theodore. His frequent defeat had caused others to mock and humiliate him.
Marcus had been angry with himself and Theodore. In a desperate bid to escape his frustration, he had drowned his sorrows at a bar, drinking heavily. It was there, in his stupor, that he overheard a conversation about a plan to murder Theodore.
The words had shocked him, but he had remained silent. He reasoned that fate had taken retribution on him. With Theodore out of the way, Marcus believed he would finally win the championship.
Then came the accident. Instead of feeling sorry for him, Marcus felt a twisted sense of satisfaction.
With Theodore sidelined, he quickly rose to the top, relishing his newfound dominance over the other competitors. For a time, he had reveled in the glory he had long craved.
But now, facing the very real threat of death, all of Marcus’s dreams, resentments, and vengeful thoughts melted away. His only desire was to leave the den alive.
"Why are you silent now? Speak!" Theodore shook him violently, yanking him back to reality.
"I was drunk that night," Marcus stammered. "Someone was plotting to kill you. He was talking about tampering with your car. I-I couldn’t see his face properly. I was... drunk."
Infuriated, Theodore clenched his fist and delivered a resounding punch to Marcus’ face, eliciting a pained groan and subsequent drizzle of blood flowing from his nostril.