Chapter 91
Cordelia was dumbfounded. ‘That person?’ She looked in the direction Linda was pointing and saw Oliver. Even though the hall was dimly lit, she could still recognize him instantly.
“What is he doing here?” Linda asked. “Could it be that he’s one of your husband’s fans?”
Cordelia bit her lips. Lately, Oliver had been acting strange. He’d been asking around about Marcus, which made her uneasy. Could it be that he had some sort of grudge against Marcus from the past?
They were at a boxing match, and it was normal for boxers to get hurt. If Oliver wanted to harm Marcus, this would be his best opportunity. The more Cordelia thought about it, the more anxious she became.
However, the hall was filled with people now, and the match was about to start. She wasn’t familiar with the layout and couldn’t go to the back to warn Marcus. She hesitated for a moment, then pulled out her phone. Stepping into a quiet corner, she made a call to Seth.
…
The match started. The first few rounds went smoothly. Despite his opponent being a reigning champion, he was no match for Marcus. The more Marcus fought, the more the crowd became electric, shouting and waving banners in support of the man in the ring.
Marcus moved like a beast of steel, easily intimidating his opponent with a mere glance. He landed several precise uppercuts, striking his opponent’s vital points. The other boxer leaned against the ropes, gasping for air, his eyes filled with trepidation.
The referee called for a break at the end of the round. Both fighters took a moment to catch their breath. Marcus used this time to scan the audience, looking for Cordelia. But he couldn’t find her. He frowned. He had clearly seen her earlier, so he felt a pang of disappointment.
When the bell rang again, he resumed the match, his face serious. He looked once more at the audience, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cordelia. Instead, he was taken aback when he saw Oliver in the crowd.
He froze for a moment, then frowned. ‘What is Oliver doing here? How did he know I had a match today?’
Questions raced through Marcus’s mind. Then it hit him. He had been performing exceptionally well in the last few rounds. But now, with Oliver in the crowd, he realized he should have held back. Despite not being on Matthew’s side, Oliver wasn’t exactly on his side either. He couldn’t let Oliver figure out his true identity.
That’s right. He was Marcus, not Zephyr!
He stood still in the ring, lost in thought. His opponent took advantage of his momentary lapse, landing a punch squarely on Marcus’s forehead. The impact ripped open his skin, and blood splattered across the ring.
The audience gasped in shock.
“What’s going on?” they murmured. “Didn’t he fight so well in the last rounds?”
“He’s barely moving now. Is he asleep?”
“Seems like this is all he can do. What a disappointment.”
Oliver frowned as well, noticing Marcus’s unusual behavior. The other fighter, sensing Marcus’s disarray, grew more aggressive, launching attack after attack. But Marcus did nothing to fight back—he merely protected his head with his arms.
“Mr. Jones, he isn’t Zephyr at all!” someone near Oliver sneered. “There’s no way Zephyr would be this weak.”