A Divorce She Regrets

CHAPTER 7

David's scream died in his throat, replaced by shallow, gasping breaths. Blood continued to seep from the corner of his mouth, staining his expensive leather jacket.

Mrs. Hart stood frozen near the window, her hand pressed against her mouth. Her eyes were wide with terror. She had never seen anything like this. Her son, her arrogant, confident son, was lying broken on the floor like a discarded toy.

And the man responsible stood over him with the calm expression of someone watering plants.

"Please," Mrs. Hart whispered, her voice trembling. "Please, he did not mean"

Ethan's gaze shifted to her. Just for a moment. But it was enough to make her words die in her throat.

David's mouth opened and closed. He tried to speak, but only wet, choking sounds came out. His body trembled. Tears mixed with the blood on his face.

Ethan pressed down slightly harder with his foot.

David screamed again. The sound was raw and desperate. His hands clawed uselessly at Ethan's leg, trying to push him off. But it was like trying to move a mountain.

"S-stop," David gasped. "Stop… please…"

"Then answer me," Ethan said coldly.

David's entire body was soaked in sweat. His breathing was rapid and shallow. He could feel his ribs grinding against each other with every breath. Something inside him was broken. Maybe several things.

And he knew, with absolute certainty, that this man would kill him.

"Sapphire Club," David choked out. The words came out in a wet, desperate rush. "She is at the Sapphire Club. That is where we sent her. That is where she is."

Ethan's expression did not change. "When?"

"T-today," David stammered. "A few hours ago. Marcus arranged it. He said there was a client. Someone important. Someone who wanted…" His voice broke. "Someone who wanted a girl like her."

Ethan's jaw tightened. The only sign of emotion he showed.

He leaned down slightly, his face now inches from David's. His voice dropped to a whisper.

"If you dare to lie," Ethan said slowly, each word deliberate, "I will kill you."

It was not a threat. It was a promise.

David's eyes went wide. He nodded frantically, blood spraying from his lips with each movement. "I swear. I swear I am telling the truth. Sapphire Club. VIP section. That is where she is. I swear."

Ethan held his gaze for a long moment.

Then he stood.

He removed his foot from David's chest. David immediately curled into a ball, gasping and wheezing, coughing up blood onto the floor.

Ethan turned away from him without another glance.

The three workers stood pressed against the wall, their faces pale, their bodies trembling. They did not move. Did not speak. They simply watched as Ethan walked across the room.

He stopped in front of the shattered portrait of his parents.

For a moment, he just looked at it. The cracked glass. The torn frame. The boot prints across their faces.

Then, slowly, he bent down and picked it up.

He cradled the frame carefully in his hands. Gently, as if it were something precious. Something sacred.

He used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the dirt and dust. He brushed off the boot prints as best as he could. His movements were soft. Tender.

Behind him, Mrs. Hart watched in silence, her face still pale with fear. She did not dare speak. Did not dare move.

Ethan straightened, holding the portrait against his chest.

Then he turned and walked out.

He raised his hand and made a sharp, cutting gesture toward the shadows across the street.

Instantly, the engine of a blacked-out SUV roared to life. Two men in tactical gear stepped out, bowing their heads in silent, lethal deference.

"The Sapphire Club," Ethan said, his voice as cold as a tombstone. "Drive. If a single red light stops us, remove it."

"Understood, Sir."

Meanwhile, inside the apartment, the sound of David's wet, labored breathing filled the room.

Mrs. Hart stood frozen for several long seconds.

Then, slowly, her legs gave out. She collapsed onto the nearest chair, her entire body trembling.

One of the workers cautiously approached David. "Should we… should we call an ambulance?"

Mrs. Hart did not answer. She simply stared at the doorway where Ethan had disappeared.

Her son was lying on the floor, possibly dying. And all she could think about was the look in Ethan's eyes.

She had seen men violent before, but she had never seen a man who could break another human being with such calm indifference.

David coughed weakly, blood pooling beneath him.

"Mom…" he whispered. "Help…"

Mrs. Hart's hands shook. She pulled out her phone and dialed for an ambulance. Her voice was unsteady as she gave the address.

When she hung up, she sat in silence for a moment, then her lips curled into a snarl. Her hands clenched into fists.

"He thinks he can do this to us," she hissed under her breath. "He thinks he can walk in here and act like some kind of king."

She looked toward the door, her eyes filled with venom.

"But he will not stay arrogant for long," she spat. "That club… the Sapphire Club. It is not just any club. The owner is one of the most powerful men in this city. His influence is second only to Sterling Global Corporation itself. The government respects him. The underworld fears him."

Her smile returned. Cruel and satisfied.

"If that fool goes there and causes trouble, he will not walk out alive. The owner will crush him like an insect."

She laughed. A low, bitter sound. "Let him go. Let him dig his own grave.”