Six days later....
Soft music played in the background of the grand, luxurious banquet hall, adorned with silver tapestries and golden furniture.
Guests, dressed in opulent clothing, ate, drank, and conversed with one another.
Suddenly, the music stopped. A man in a silver suit stepped onto the stage and approached the microphone.
"Mmm… mmm… is this on? Is this on?" he said, tapping the microphone. "Oh, it's on—good. Mmm… mmm… okay. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the coronation of our new second world champion derby racer, Ms. Patricia Milton, and also as the new Silver Horse of the Club!"
The room erupted into applause.
"Thank you, thank you. I think we can all agree that Ms. Milton is truly one of a kind—an extraordinary talent who will take us higher than we ever imagined. Although some tried to destroy her and get rid of her, she proved that her prodigious fighting spirit cannot be tamed, no matter who challenges her. And that is the true spirit of a champion. Our champion.
So, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage our second world champion derby racer, and the Silver Horse of the Club, Ms. Patricia Milton! And to present her with the crown and trophy, Mr. Ignitious Badily!" announced the MC.
The room erupted into applause as Patricia emerged from the far side of the hall, wearing a shoulder-to-floor silver glittering gown adorned with diamonds. Her hair was neatly styled into a regal bun, sprinkled with glitter. She wore a diamond necklace, earrings, and bracelet.
Walking beside her was an elderly man with gray hair, black eyes, a flat nose, plush lips, spectacles, and a light-and-navy-blue suit.
The duo walked onto the stage as the applause thundered.
The elderly man guided Patricia to a desk and handed her papers to sign. After she signed, he placed a silver crown—engraved in the shape of a horse—upon her head and presented her with a silver glass horse shaped trophy.
"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present our second world champion derby racer, and Silver Horse, Ms. Patricia Milton!" the MC announced again as Patricia turned to face the crowd, smiling brightly while the applause roared.
"Thank you. Thank you." She said on the microphone. "Thank you all so much for your support. I deeply and greatly appreciate it. But most importantly..I owe this honour to my father...Simon Milton." She paused.
And the room fell silent.
"My father was a great racer...a true prodigy that no one can compare. I know people say that...I am more than capable and prodigious than him. But that's not true. I...only learned to break the limits but not to be better. I can never be better than my father but I can be..the shining trophy, his greatest pride and achievement in his trophy case. A trophy that he won by giving it enough care, attention, time, training and most importantly...love."
She paused as she felt tears sting in her eyes. "I am sure that most of you here..can testify...what a great man, my father was. Wherever he went and whatever he did always changed somebody's life...mostly for the better."
She paused again to scan the room and saw that most of the people genuinely agreed with her but some had looks of discomfort to show that they were envious and probably hated her father than appreciate him.
She smirked as she marked their faces in her mind, swearing to deal with them later.
She then turned back to the microphone and continued. "But I don't need to say it out loud because you know very well, what he was like because most of you were here when he was alive." She chuckled. "So his presence spoke for itself and I can feel and know that...it is still doing marvellous things...even when he is no longer with us. I mean look at me. I am a testimony to that. And I know...that he is more than proud of me because of it. And I can be happier."
She paused as she wiped a tear before continuing, "So without further ado, I promise...that as the Silver Horse of the Club, I will do my best to uphold the principles and values of the club. To commit myself in protecting and defending the honour and dignity of the every horse derby racer out there. To ensure that it is a good, safe and fair sport that benefits all of us as equals. As one. To offer opportunities to those who thought it was impossible. To let them know and see that the impossible can be possible with just the right amount of support and courage. They can do great things and also experience the track's glory and fame. So with that...I thank you."
She concluded and the room erupted again in thunderous applause.
Patricia basked in the praise with a polite smile.
Just then, her smile faltered slightly as she saw Jethro, dressed in an impeccable, luxurious silver suit, approaching the stage with his trademark smug smile tugging at his lips.
"Congratulations, my pretty doll. That was a pretty strong speech and it has already gained you an entourage. That's good. Very impressive," Jethro drawled in his smooth, velvety voice as he approached her.
The sound made Patricia's skin crawl with disgust, but she masked it with a smile.
"Thank you, Mr. Morales," she replied.
"You are always welcome, my pretty doll," Jethro said, taking her hand and kissing it.
Patricia had the urge to yank her hand away but restrained herself.
Jethro noticed her discomfort and smirked before straightening his posture.
"I don't see your mentor.. here," he said, scanning the crowd. "Where is he? Don't tell me he abandoned you. Tsk… yet he was the one who always wanted to brand you in my face, and now he doesn't even have the decency to show up. What a pity."
Patricia felt rage boiling inside her at Jethro's mockery of Philip. She wanted to lash out but decided against it—the bastard didn't deserve even a fraction of her time.
Taking a deep breath, she faced him calmly.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Morales. What you're hoping for is not the case. Mr. Saccoth unfortunately got caught up in family matters, and to his dismay, he was unable to attend the celebration. He very much wanted to be here, but no… he couldn't. We'll have our private celebration with him when everything is settled."
"Mmm…" Jethro hummed. "Okay. Fair enough. But tonight you are mine, pretty doll. So I hope you're ready to face it with that champion spirit of yours. Mmm…"
Patricia smiled. "I wouldn't want it any other way."
With those words, Jethro led Patricia from the stage to mingle with the party guests.
....
Meanwhile…
"Ahhh… this party is such a bore. Is this what you meant by being a party master? Because if it is, you suck," Alisha complained as she stood in the corner, watching the room with Zach.
"Seriously? Do you see my name written on any of this? And yet you're accusing me of being the party pooper? Ouch, Ali, that hurts," Zach retorted, turning his gaze toward her.
Alisha was dressed in a gown similar to Patricia's—without the diamonds, but shimmering with glitter. Her hair was loose, braided at the sides, and sprinkled with glitter. Just like her sister, she looked breathtaking, and several sons of derby racers who had accompanied their parents were stealing admiring glances at her.
Zach noticed, though he was surprised at how nonchalant and oblivious Alisha seemed toward them. He himself was dressed in an elegant silver suit, a heartthrob for the ladies, though he preferred to keep his presence minimal.
"Tsk… besides, I'm more of the after-party guy, not this…" Zach motioned toward the room. "Whatever you call this."
"Urrgh! It's so boring here. I think my feet are even starting to fall asleep. Urrgh… I wish I was on a mission with Isaac and Davis right now instead of this. It's boring," Alisha complained.
"Yeah… but did you hear any word from them? I mean, did Patricia hear from them since they went on that mission?" Zach asked.
"Mmm… no, I don't think so. Patricia told me they were going to investigate the disappearance of that Viper guy, and at least get some answers before, you know, Patricia and Isaac go on their romantic getaway to Canada the day after tomorrow," Alisha replied.
"Well… it's good they're taking a breather. A lot has happened these past couple of months. Especially to Patricia. She really needs this," Zach said.
"Yeah… she does…" Alisha murmured, her words trailing off as her eyes landed on a boy with short brown hair, warm brown eyes, a sharp nose, plush lips, and a medium-toned physique perfectly sculpted beneath an expensive black suit.
As soon as he caught sight of her, he smirked and began to approach.
"What the hell is he doing here?" Alisha muttered under her breath—but Zach heard it.
"Mmm… who?" Zach asked, turning to follow Alisha's line of vision.
A boy was approaching—the one Zach loathed to the core. Heat bubbled inside him the moment he saw him. "What the hell is this scumbag doing here?" he growled.
Travis felt goosebumps prickle his skin as he caught the murderous glares directed at him by the pair. He knew he was unwanted, but he didn't care. He was used to being the dominant alpha wherever he went, and to him, these newcomers in the supreme social circle were nothing more than curious children waiting to be entertained. And he would gladly oblige.
"Miss Alisha… princess," he drawled in an irritatingly velvety voice as he stopped in front of them, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"What a surprise. I didn't think you'd attend such an occasion. Knowing how feisty and uptight you are, I didn't think parties like this interested you. Guess I'll have to take note of that," he continued.
Alisha sighed, rolling her eyes. "Oh brother… I don't have time for this," she muttered, averting her eyes from him.
Zach could see her discomfort and rising anger. He knew her well enough to realize that if someone didn't help her keep her temper in check, all hell would break loose.
He stepped forward, shielding her behind him.
"Excuse me, but Alisha's likes and dislikes are none of your concern. So why don't you leave her alone and go back to your buddies and enjoy yourself, huh? I'm sure they're better company," Zach said firmly.
Travis scoffed. "And who might you be?" He looked Zach up and down with a scrutinizing glare. "Who are you to question my dealings with her, huh? Her bodyguard? A petty fling? What are you—some macho stray she picked up from the street dumpster? Because you definitely don't look like a match for me."
He then turned to Alisha. "Tsk… you know, princess, for once I thought you had good taste in men. But it seems you're just one of those girls who run to the smell of money, no matter where it comes from—even a dumpster. What a pity."
Rage boiled inside Zach at the mockery. Without thinking, he lunged at Travis and yanked him by the collar.
Turns out it was Zach's temper that needed to be kept in check after all.
"Who are you calling a dumpster, you fucking bastard? Huh? Who?" Zach roared.
"Zach! No!" Alisha cried out.
Travis snickered at him. "You've made a very bad move, Stinko. This is one of my favorite suits, and you just touched it with your filthy hands, you bastard. Don't think that because you're her floozy boy toy you can do whatever you want." He leaned in, his face an inch from Zach's, and whispered:
"She belongs to me, you hear me, stinky boy? Only I get to fuck her—not you."
WACK!!
THUD!
Haa!!
Gasps rippled through the room at the sound of the punch and the fall.
All eyes turned to the scene: Travis lay on the floor with a split lip, while Zach hovered over him.
Travis touched his bruised mouth and glared up at Zach.
"Fuck you, you crazy stinking prick! How dare you hit me! Just because you get to fuck her doesn't mean I won't!" he shouted.
"You son of a bitch! That's my sister!" Zach roared, lunging at him again.
"Zach, no!" Alisha cried, trying to stop him.
But to no avail—Zach grabbed Travis by the collar and began punching him repeatedly.
"Stay! The! Hell! Away! From! My! Sister! You scumbag!" he yelled with each blow.
"Zach, stop it! Stop it, please!" Alisha pleaded desperately.
Just then, bodyguards scrambled to the scene. They seized Zach, pulling him off Travis. One of them drove an elbow into Zach's stomach, making him coil in pain, before another punched him in the face.
"Stop it! Oh my God, stop it! Stop hitting my brother!" Alisha cried, shoving aside the bodyguard who had struck Zach. "Stop it!"
Just then, Patricia emerged from the crowd to see what the commotion was about. "What is going on?"
Her blood ran cold the moment she saw Zach being manhandled by guards and Alisha frantically trying to stop them.
"Oh my God! Zach! Alisha!" she cried, rushing toward them.
"What are you doing? Let go of them!" Patricia shouted, pushing and pulling at the bodyguards restraining her siblings.
"Let go of my siblings, you bastards! Security!"
At her command, the official security team rushed to the scene and restrained the rogue bodyguards.
Guests crowded around, murmuring in shock at the spectacle.
"Get back!" Patricia yelled, before turning to Zach, who had a bruised lip and was clutching his stomach.
"Zach, are you okay? Are you alright?" she asked frantically, her hands roaming over him to check for wounds.
"Don't worry, Sis… I'll be fine… aah," Zach groaned in pain.
Just then, Jethro weaved through the crowd to witness the commotion.
"What the hell is going on?" Jethro demanded, his eyes landing on his bodyguards being restrained by security, Patricia frantically hovering over her siblings, and his nephew Travis wiping blood from his face while being attended by another guard.
Jethro closed his eyes and exhaled loudly in frustration. He didn't need anyone to tell him who was responsible for the brawl—when his stupid nephew was involved, everything always ended in disaster.
He took a deep breath. "What the hell happened here?"
His gaze shifted between Zach and Travis, both of whom remained silent. "Can anyone care to explain what the fuck happened here, huh?"
The group stayed quiet until—
"That's also what I would like to know. Is this a celebration… or a petty brawling match?"
A deep, smooth voice echoed through the room.
Everyone turned their heads to see the newcomer.
And immediately, almost everyone's blood ran cold.
A man with a medium, muscular build stepped forward. He wore a black-and-gold suit, his long wavy dark brown hair neatly tied back. Dark brown eyes peered through a golden mask that covered half his face—from his eyes down to his sharp nose. His plush lips were painted a deep red hue.
In his hand, he carried a black-and-gold staff engraved with a black tulip. Upon his head rested a golden crown shaped like a horse mid-gallop.
He radiated the dominating aura of a mighty king, a warrior, a god among mortals—feared to the core.
"It's the Golden Horse," a panicked whisper echoed through the room.
"Haa… what's he doing here?" another voice trembled.
"This is not good…"
Whispers rippled in a frenzy, but the man himself couldn't care less.
He hadn't wanted to be here.
But he couldn't resist the urge to see her—this time face to face, not from the sidelines.
He walked toward Jethro, whose face had gone ashen, as if he were seeing a ghost.
Well, he was a ghost.
A walking dead to them.
He rarely appeared in public, especially at occasions like these. To him, they were petty gatherings of lowly beings, not worth his time.
"So…" he continued as he stopped before Jethro. "What is the commotion all about, huh? Especially on this beautiful day meant to celebrate the success of the second world champion derby racer. It should be joyous for you, no? That someone is finally ready to stand and challenge the Golden Horse for the throne. Right?"
Jethro shook in his boots.
"Wh… who would even dare to do that, Your Eminence?" Jethro stammered. "My sincerest apologies. I… didn't know that—"
"That I was coming?" Ricardo interrupted. "Tsk… I thought you knew me better than this by now, Jethro. I am a man of surprises. I like doing things whenever I want, however I want. Isn't that right?"
He turned to the crowd, chuckling.
But it wasn't humorous—it was terrifying.
"Besides… I came to congratulate the Silver Horse. I wouldn't want to be labeled a bad sport if I didn't at least acknowledge my future rival's success. Right? That would be unfair, wouldn't it?"
Jethro nodded vigorously, swallowing hard in fear.
Ricardo sighed and muttered, "Pathetic idiot."
"So where is the Silver Horse? Isn't it about time we were formally introduced?" he asked expectantly.
Jethro swallowed again and cleared his throat. "Mmm… mmm… of course, Sir. Please forgive my manners…"
'Finally! It's about time', Ricardo thought.
"Mmm… Your Eminence, let me introduce you to Miss Patricia…" Jethro began, turning toward her. "Mil… ton…"
He froze.
Jethro's words trailed off as his eyes widened in shock, landing on an empty space.
"What…? Where…?" he muttered in disbelief, staring at the spot.
Patricia was gone.
And so were her siblings.
Ricardo noticed Jethro's ashen face—something was wrong.
He followed Jethro's line of vision and saw the empty space before him.
His eyes darkened, and in his mind he screamed:
'Rosella!!!'