Chapter 4 - The Sound of Broken History
The second swing came even faster than the first, a arc of dark wood cutting through the air.
CRASH!
The second vase disintegrated upon impact, sending heavy clay fragments skidding across the white marble like thrown rocks. The guests recoiled further, pressing themselves against the gold-trimmed walls as Ethan stepped forward without breaking his rhythm, bringing the cane down onto the third and final display.
CRASH!
The final porcelain structure collapsed, its base splintering into jagged pieces that bounced off the stone floor and settled around Ethan’s boots. Dust and pulverized ceramic hung in the air under the bright luxury lighting, settling over the immaculate black fabric of his three-piece suit.
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Ethan stopped in the exact center of the hall, surrounded by the ruined remains of centuries-old history. His chest rose and fell in heavy, measured breaths, his eyes dark and burning as he lowered the cane to his side, letting the tip rest lightly against the floor.
Eleanor sat frozen against the cracked wall, staring at the debris field surrounding him in complete, unadulterated disbelief. This was not just a display of anger; it was an absolute declaration of war against everything her family represented. Her hands trembled against her lap as she looked up at the man standing in her foyer, realizing for the first time that the wealth and influence she had wielded like a sword her entire life meant nothing to him.
