Chapter 10 Sweet Revenge

• "Are you making up such nonsense to slack off? No one could kick someone into the air with a single strike. What, are you brain-dead?" Brock spat on the ground.
• "But it's true!" Marty stammered, unsure of how to explain.
• Brock shot him a dirty look before turning to size up Finnley. From the outside, Finnley didn't look particularly muscular—he was lean but not someone you'd expect to have such explosive power. Brock marched forward. "Hey, punk. Do you even know where you are? You think you can just come here and stir up trouble?"
• Finnley stood tall, unafraid. Brock was massive, his security uniform barely concealing his muscular frame, making him look like a walking mountain.
• "I know exactly where I am. This is my family's land," Finnley said coldly, staring Brock down.
• Brock burst into laughter, doubling over. "That's the funniest thing I've heard all day! Do you know whose property this is? This is Fitzalan Holdings! This is Fitzalan Tower! Get lost before you make things worse for yourself!"
• Brock jabbed his finger hard into Finnley's shoulder, trying to intimidate him. His force caused Finnley's shoulder to sway slightly.
• "Fitzalan Holdings?" Finnley mused. "Spencer Fitzalan's family business?"
• "That's right! So, you better get moving!" Brock sneered, rolling his eyes.
• Finnley's expression darkened. "So, it's fate that we meet again."
• At the sight of Finnley talking to himself, Brock's patience finally wore thin. "Are you deaf or just stupid? Do I need to repeat myself?" His temper flared. Normally, he would've already laid a beating on Finnley, but he hesitated, knowing it wasn't worth it to be sentenced for murder over a nobody like Finnley.
• Finnley finally came to himself and glanced at Brock's outstretched finger. "Try poking me again. I dare you," he dared, his voice laced with anger.
• "Try? I'll do it again just to show you!" Brock sneered, jabbing Finnley's shoulder with even more force this time. "And what are you gonna do about it, huh?"
• Before Brock could finish gloating, Finnley grabbed his finger and, with a sickening crack, snapped it like a twig.
• Brock let out a blood-curdling scream, the sound echoing through the entire Fitzalan Tower.
• "Captain!" The other guards rushed forward, alarmed by their leader's cries.
• But Finnley had no intention of letting go of Brock. As the guards closed in, Finnley swung Brock like a ragdoll, using him as a human shield. Despite his size, Brock had no ability to resist.
• The other guards' batons and punches landed squarely on Brock as they tried to reach Finnley. Brock yelped in pain, his body absorbing the blows meant for Finnley.
• One by one, Finnley kicked the guards away, each of them flying through the air like they weighed nothing. Within moments, the group lay scattered on the ground, groaning in pain.
• Thomas watched in awe, swallowing hard. Mr. Finnley has become so amazing! There's hope for the Novak family yet!
• The once-fierce security team was now lying on the ground, writhing in agony. Even Brock, who had been used as a human shield, was beaten to a pulp, his face swollen and bruised.
• Finnley finally let go of Brock, who stumbled, dazed, before collapsing in a heap.
• Looking down at the defeated guards, Finnley spoke with a cold sneer, "Tell Spencer Fitzalan that in three days, I want this tower leveled. I'm going to rebuild my parents' memorial here and pay tribute to their spirits. If he doesn't comply…" His voice dropped, filled with menace, "I'll show no mercy."
• With that, he turned and left, with Thomas following behind him, limping to keep up. "Mr. Finnley, that was amazing! I'm so impressed!" Thomas' face was lit with a mix of awe and joy.
• "That was nothing, Mr. Thomas. Let's get you cleaned up and checked by a doctor for your leg." Finnley waved it off. To him, the fight had been mere child's play, not even enough to break a sweat.
• Thomas nodded eagerly. He was aware of his current disheveled state and felt ashamed to be seen like that around his young master. He couldn't wait to wash up and get back to serving Finnley properly.
• Meanwhile, inside Fitzalan Tower, Spencer had already learned of the incident.
• Struggling to stand, Brock shouted, "Quick! Send the security footage to Mr. Spencer! That cocky b*stard will pay for this!"
• The guards scrambled to obey, forwarding the video of the fight to Spencer, who was at the hospital getting his teeth fixed.
• When Spencer saw the video, his blood boiled. "Who is this guy? Find out everything about him! I want him dead!"
• His humiliation at the engagement party had been bad enough, but now this same "nobody" had come to his turf and demanded he tear down his building?!
• "You useless fools! How could you lose to one guy? Why am I even paying you?" Spencer ranted, his speech slurred due to his missing teeth.
• "Mr. Spencer, it wasn't a fair fight. That guy's got some underhanded tricks. He knows some cheap martial arts," Brock grumbled, though in reality, Finnley had toyed with them effortlessly.
• "Enough! Call in reinforcements from the streets. I want that punk taken care of. If anything happens, I'll take responsibility!"
• "Yes, Mr. Spencer! I'll make sure it's done."
• Spencer licked his dry lips, his expression twisted with malice. He wasn't going to let this insult go unanswered.
• Meanwhile, Finnley brought Thomas to a nearby hotel, booked a room, and ordered some food.
• Thomas, now clean from his shower, devoured the meal like a starving man. As he ate, tears filled his eyes.
• Watching him eat, Finnley felt a pang of sorrow. Thomas had been loyal to his family through everything, even after being beaten and left to fend for himself.
• After the meal, Finnley took Thomas to the hospital for a proper checkup. The doctors confirmed that his leg could still be treated, but it would be expensive.
• To Finnley, the cost was trivial. "Whatever it takes, fix his leg," he said, swiping his card to cover the medical expenses. With the payment made, the hospital assured him they'd provide the best care possible.
• By the time everything was settled, night had fallen. Finnley checked his phone and realized it had died. His sisters were probably worried sick, unable to reach him.
• "Mr. Thomas, rest up here. I'll come see you tomorrow," Finnley said, reassuring the old man.
• Thomas nodded eagerly. "Take care, Mr. Finnley!"
• After leaving the hospital, Finnley was about to hail a cab when he sensed someone following him.