The receptionist drew a shaky breath and stepped out from behind the counter. Her legs felt strangely weak as she walked toward Ethan. Each step across the polished floor seemed louder than the last, and several people in the lobby turned to watch her approach.Ethan noticed her when she was only a few feet away and slowly turned his head.She stopped in front of him.For a moment, she could not speak.She looked at the man she had humiliated only minutes earlier and felt the weight of everything she had done crashing down on her at once.Then her pride finally broke.Without another word, she dropped to her knees. The sharp sound of her knees striking the polished marble floor echoed across the lobby.Several guests turned in surprise.Ethan's mother gasped, her eyes widening as she instinctively took a step forward. "Ma'am, what are you doing?"The receptionist barely heard her. Her entire body was trembling. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks as she looked up at Ethan, her voice b

Clara swallowed hard, but no answer came. The excuse she had built only moments earlier had completely collapsed, leaving her standing in the middle of the hotel lobby with nowhere to hide. She opened her mouth, desperate to find something that could defend her, but her mind went blank. Ethan watched her carefully, and the anger that had once burned openly in his eyes had settled into something much colder. “Clara, we've been married for three years,” he said quietly, his voice controlled but heavy with the pain of everything he had endured. “During those three years, I never loved another woman. Not once. I loved you. I stood by you. I tried to give you everything I could, even when I didn't have much to give.”Clara's eyes began to glisten, and she quickly looked away, but Ethan did not let her escape the weight of his words. “My only flaw was that I was poor,” he continued, his jaw tightening as old memories came rushing back. “I wasn't lazy. I wasn't a criminal. I wasn't sitting

The elevator doors slid shut with a soft golden hiss, sealing Ethan, his parents, the receptionist, and the Guardian inside the quiet, mirrored box.For several seconds, nobody spoke.The only sound was the gentle hum of the elevator climbing through the hotel, a low mechanical breath that seemed too calm for everything that had just happened downstairs.Ethan stood near his parents, one hand resting casually in his pocket, his eyes fixed on the glowing floor numbers ticking upward above the doors. He didn't need to look at anyone to feel the questions pressing against the silence.His parents had seen everything in the lobby. They had watched the receptionist look at their son like he was something scraped off her shoe.Ethan glanced sideways at them. His mother was staring at the floor, her hands folded tightly in front of her. His father was studying the elevator walls, the polished brass, the soft lighting, like a man trying to convince himself none of this was a dream.Ethan let

Ethan remained standing beside the floor-to-ceiling window, Guardian's words circling through his mind.“Make the entire Hawthorn family your slaves.”At first, the idea sounded extreme. Almost ridiculous. Yet the longer Ethan thought about it, the more reasonable it began to sound. Not the literal meaning of the word, perhaps, but the idea behind it.The Hawthorn family had spent years making him feel powerless because they had money, influence, and status. They had used their wealth to decide where he belonged, what he deserved, and even how much respect he was worthy of receiving.Now the situation had changed completely.Ethan was not merely richer than the Hawthorn family. He was far richer, a hundred times richer than the entire Hawthorn family combined.The thought alone was almost difficult to comprehend.If he wanted to, he could probably buy many of the things they had spent decades building. Their houses, their cars, their investments, their businesses, their shares, their

Morning sunlight poured through the enormous windows of the Presidential Suite, spreading across the polished marble floor in long golden bands.The city below was already awake.Traffic moved through the streets in endless streams, buildings reflected the early sunlight, and the distant noise of the metropolis rose faintly through the thick glass. Yet inside the suite, everything remained quiet and elegant.Ethan stood in front of the enormous dressing mirror, adjusting the golden cufflinks at the sleeves of his tuxedo. The man staring back at him barely resembled the Ethan who had walked through the doors of the Hawthorn estate as a poor son-in-law.His tuxedo was from Brioni, one of the world's most prestigious luxury menswear brands. The limited-edition black tuxedo had been tailored perfectly to his body, its deep black fabric absorbing the morning light while revealing a subtle sheen whenever he moved.The jacket fit his shoulders flawlessly, the waist was cut cleanly against hi