Arrogant Billionaire Mocks Old Friend, Only To Be Humiliated By His Secret Power

The biting winter wind howled around Gregory Thorne as he stood on the grand, snow-dusted steps of St. Jude's Cathedral. The neo-gothic architecture loomed above, silhouetted against the indigo twilight. Amber gas lamps cast long, distorted shadows on the icy slush below, where a battered yellow cab rattled away into the gloom. Gregory clutched a crystal tumbler of scotch, the expensive vicuña cashmere of his overcoat a stark contrast to the modest, worn navy wool trench coat of the man who had just stepped onto the curb.

A Cold Reunion

Tommy Vance. Even after all these years, he looked remarkably similar. The chiseled jawline, the piercing steel-gray eyes that seemed to hold an unnerving calm, a disciplined posture that spoke of quiet authority. Gregory couldn't suppress the arrogant smirk that spread across his face. Alumni, faces indistinct in the fading light, watched from the periphery. This was perfect.

"Did your welfare check bounce, Tommy," Gregory sneered, his voice laced with mocking amusement, "or couldn't you even afford an Uber Black?"

Tommy said nothing. He simply began to ascend the steps, a slow plume of white frost escaping his lips with each breath. His calm, unblinking gaze locked onto Gregory's, a silent challenge that pricked Gregory's ego. He pushed the unease away, needing to assert his dominance. He strode down three steps, closing the distance, invading Tommy's personal space.

"Look at you, still the same pathetic nobody who cleaned out my locker!"

Gregory shoved Tommy forcefully. The impact was solid, a heavy thud against thick wool, but Tommy remained rooted to the spot, unmoved. A subtle, predatory half-smile flickered at the corner of Tommy's lips, a tension in his jaw that spoke volumes. Gregory felt a surge of annoyance; Tommy’s composure was infuriating.