"Who even is this nobody? Daring to hurt Miss Noreen—she spared his life tonight, and he should be grateful!"
"Exactly! I heard he's just some orphan Mr. Edward picked up off the streets. The old man raised him out of pity, and how does he repay it? By bullying Maxwell! No wonder he was thrown out."
"Speaking of—" one of them laughed, pulling up a video on his phone. "I still have that dog video saved. You remember it, don't you? The night Maxwell taught him a lesson."
The man opened his photo album and pulled up the torture video.
The others crowded around, jeering.
"Show me!"
"I want to see too!"
The sound of Darcy's dying screams filled the air.
Something inside me snapped.
I snatched a jagged shard of glass from the floor, grabbed the man by his hair, and drove the shard straight into his eye.
His shriek tore through the room, but to me it was nothing more than background noise—like the finishing stroke of a painting. I turned my head toward the crowd. The ones who just moments ago were pointing and laughing fell silent, their faces went deathly pale.
No one dares provoke a madman.