All Chapters of Ethan Storm’s Dark Awakening : Chapter 191
- Chapter 200
214 chapters
191
Parker felt the line drawn clearly now: it cut through the room and through him. Every eye was fixed on him. Every breath felt like a wager.“What exactly do you want me to do, Elder?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.Elder Hugo’s face was carved out of stone. He didn’t hurry. He didn’t raise his voice. That made what he said all the worse.“Find that Ethan, whoever he is,” Hugo said. “Bring him here. Break him if you must. But bring him. And bring Bill. Don’t return with only excuses and empty hands.”Parker swallowed. “If Bill resists?” he asked.Hugo’s cold eyes didn’t blink. “Teach him a lesson. Make him remember who raised him, who fed him, who made him a champion. Let every crack on his back tell the story of betrayal. And Ethan — make him answer for turning our blood against us.”A murmur went through the elders. Marco slammed a fist into the table, making the silverware jump. “And if Parker can’t find them?” he spat. “If he comes back with nothing but talk?”Hugo tap
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Parker walked out of the council hall, the weight of the elders’ voices still echoing in his ears. The air outside was cold, sharp, biting at his skin. He tried to breathe, but each breath felt heavy… like swallowing stones. His hands were trembling, and he shoved them deep into his coat pockets to hide it from Valen, who followed behind in silence. “Three days,” Parker muttered to himself. “Three damn days.” Valen glanced at him. “You’ve handled worse.” Parker gave a weak laugh. “No, Valen. I’ve handled louder. Not worse.” They parted ways at the parking lot, Valen heading toward the garages to round up Caruso’s boys while Parker lingered beside his car, staring at the black reflection on the window. He could see his own eyes staring back — tired, haunted, and just a little lost. He slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and sat there. He didn’t drive yet. His mind was too full. Hugo’s words played over and over in his head like a curse: Bring me names. Bring me bodie
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Ethan Storm.The name echoed in Parker’s head like a gunshot. For a second, he thought he’d misheard. His brows furrowed, his breath caught halfway through his chest. Ethan Storm? That pathetic nobody? The one he’d seen hanging around Alice like some stray dog begging for scraps?He straightened in his seat, heart pounding faster. “You said… Ethan Storm?” he repeated, just to be sure.“Yeah,” the man confirmed on the other end. “That’s the name. You know him?”Parker’s mind was spinning. Know him? Oh, he knew him, alright. The loser in the wrinkled shirt, the guy who couldn’t even afford a decent drink the last time he saw him at the bar. The same man Alice had pitied — pitied.But now?“Do you have any pictures?” Parker asked quickly, his tone sharp.“Not sure,” the man said. “Wait… yeah. Actually, I got one from last week’s fight. Hold on.”A few seconds later, Parker’s phone buzzed. He tapped the screen — and froze.The photo loaded slowly, pixel by pixel. When it was finally clear
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Parker felt the line drawn clearly now: it cut through the room and through him. Every eye was fixed on him. Every breath felt like a wager. “What exactly do you want me to do, Elder?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. Elder Hugo’s face was carved out of stone. He didn’t hurry. He didn’t raise his voice. That made what he said all the worse. “Find that Ethan, whoever he is,” Hugo said. “Bring him here. Break him if you must. But bring him. And bring Bill. Don’t return with only excuses and empty hands.” Parker swallowed. “If Bill resists?” he asked. Hugo’s cold eyes didn’t blink. “Teach him a lesson. Make him remember who raised him, who fed him, who made him a champion. Let every crack on his back tell the story of betrayal. And Ethan — make him answer for turning our blood against us.” A murmur went through the elders. Marco slammed a fist into the table, making the silverware jump. “And if Parker can’t find them?” he spat. “If he comes back with nothing but talk?” H
195
Days passed, and the Logan mansion felt like a tomb. News of Jerry’s disappearance spread fast, along with the truth about the fake contracts. Investors pulled out immediately. Seven million dollars evaporated overnight. Debts piled up, bills stacked higher, and the public humiliation of the Logan family was complete. Mrs. Logan sat on the floor, eyes red and swollen, rocking back and forth. “Everything… gone! How could we… we trusted him!” Aunt Clara slumped into a chair, staring blankly at the TV screen replaying Jerry’s fake promises. “We… we really were fools…” Martin slammed his fists on the table. “Our family name… ruined… because of that brat Jerry. Elsa, and that… that Ethan, they… they were right!” Uncle Ron rubbed his temples. “And we ignored all the warnings. We—” Suddenly, a phone rang. Mr. Logan’s assistant spoke hurriedly. “Mrs. Logan… you need to get to the hospital. It’s… it’s urgent.” Mrs. Logan froze. “What happened?!” The assistant’s voice trembled over the
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Ethan stepped out of the taxi, the soft thud of the door echoing against the cracked walls of the old street. The scent of roasted corn and engine smoke filled the air. He reached into his jacket pocket, fishing out his wallet as his gaze swept toward the small convenience shop across the road.Then—he felt it.That prickling tension at the base of his neck. A sixth sense honed by too many nights on alert. Someone was watching him.He didn’t turn right away. Instead, he adjusted his jacket, pretending to check his phone screen. In the faint reflection of the glass window beside the shop, he caught sight of them—five men, keeping their distance, pretending to chat near a fruit stand. They weren’t buying anything. Just waiting.He sighed quietly. Not today…Ethan pushed open the shop door, letting it creak halfway before he stopped. His reflection caught the shadow of one of them moving closer. He smiled faintly. “Persistent, huh?” he muttered under his breath, then stepped back out.Th
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Red Cap hit the ground, gasping, coughing, trying to suck in air that wouldn’t come. Ethan stepped back, breathing slow and steady, eyes sharp. The rest froze for a second. The sound of the city faded — only the wind and the clatter of a dropped bottle rolling across the street.One of them, the guy in the sleeveless vest, blinked hard. “What the hell, man? You trying to kill him?”Ethan’s voice was calm, almost bored. “He came at me first.”“Get him!” someone shouted from the back — the hoodie guy Ethan had elbowed earlier. He was holding his chin, blood on his lips. “Don’t just stand there!”Two of them moved in at once. Ethan shifted his stance — left leg back, hands up, relaxed but ready.The first swung wild. Ethan ducked, caught the man’s wrist, and used his shoulder to flip him clean over. The guy hit the ground hard, air bursting out of his lungs.The other one tried to kick him, but Ethan caught the leg midair and twisted. The man screamed, stumbling sideways, clutching his k
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Ethan stopped mid-stride.The low murmur behind him carried—fear, panic, disbelief. He could have walked away. He should have. But something in Red Cap’s tone—the way he said “you don’t know who you’re messing with”—lingered like a splinter.He exhaled slowly, turned his head just enough for them to see his profile.“Hold up,” he said, voice low but clear. “Who sent you?”The whispering stopped. The air thickened.No one answered.Ethan turned fully this time. His eyes were cold, unreadable. “I said, who sent you?”Vest—still clutching his ribs—spat on the ground. “Man, we ain’t telling you nothing.”Ethan started walking back toward them. Step by step. Each footfall made the group edge backward instinctively.“I’m only going to ask once more.”Red Cap tried to stand, leaning on a wall, breathing ragged. “We—we just wanted your wallet, man. That’s it.”Ethan’s gaze flicked across the five of them. “You’re lying.”Before any of them could react, he moved.In one fluid blur, he grabbed
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Ethan stopped mid-stride. The low murmur behind him carried—fear, panic, disbelief. He could have walked away. He should have. But something in Red Cap’s tone—the way he said “you don’t know who you’re messing with”—lingered like a splinter. He exhaled slowly, turned his head just enough for them to see his profile. “Hold up,” he said, voice low but clear. “Who sent you?” The whispering stopped. The air thickened. No one answered. Ethan turned fully this time. His eyes were cold, unreadable. “I said, who sent you?” Vest—still clutching his ribs—spat on the ground. “Man, we ain’t telling you nothing.” Ethan started walking back toward them. Step by step. Each footfall made the group edge backward instinctively. “I’m only going to ask once more.” Red Cap tried to stand, leaning on a wall, breathing ragged. “We—we just wanted your wallet, man. That’s it.” Ethan’s gaze flicked across the five of them. “You’re lying.” Before any of them could react, he moved. In one fluid blur
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The air in the arena felt heavy that night. Everyone knew something big was about to happen. Word had spread fast — the Bellano family had found new allies. Their fighters had joined forces with another underground club known as The Black Fist, a brutal group that fought with no mercy. Together, they were coming for Aria’s fight club.Aria stood at the back of the arena, her hands clasped tightly. “They won’t stop until they destroy us,” she said softly.Beside her, Ethan nodded once. “Then we don’t give them the chance.”Bill stood nearby, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. “I’ll take tonight’s fight,” he said, his deep voice calm but firm. “They want to break us? They’ll have to go through me first.”Aria hesitated. “Bill, their fighter is from Black Fist. He’s dangerous. You don’t need to—”Bill smiled faintly. “Aria, you gave me back my life… and you saved my daughter. This is the least I can do.”Ethan placed a hand on his shoulder. “Just don’t die in there,” he sai