A Divorce She Regrets

CHAPTER 9

The hall fell silent.  Even the music seemed to fade into nothing.

 All eyes turned toward the shattered entrance.

"What the fuck was that?!" one of the guards barked, raising his rifle.

"Eyes up!" another shouted. All weapons snapped to aim.

Everyone held their breath.

As the dust cleared, a silhouette emerged—broad shoulders, clenched fists, death in his eyes.

Ethan stepped forward, his face unreadable… but the fury in his gaze could’ve melted iron. 

His gaze swept across the room. Past the expensive furniture. Past the well-dressed guests frozen in shock. Past Vivian and Marcus and Richard.

 His eyes found the cage.

And the girl inside it.

Lily his sister.

Her face was pale. Blood covered her arms, her forehead, her bare feet. Her body trembled violently.

And she was on her knees.

Something inside Ethan's chest twisted so painfully that he could barely breathe.

For three years, he had survived on one thought. One promise.

That he would come back for her.

That he would protect her.

And now, seeing her like this—broken, bleeding, caged like an animal—rage flooded through him like fire.

Inside the cage, Lily's entire body went rigid.

She knew that sound.

She knew those footsteps.

"Ethan?" she whispered. Her voice was barely audible. Trembling and disbelieving.

Ethan's expression softened. Just for a moment. Just for her.

"I am here," he said gently. "You are safe now."

Lily's face crumpled. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Her hands reached toward the sound of his voice, desperate, shaking.

"Ethan… you… you came…"

"Of course I came," Ethan said quietly. "I will always come for you."

For a brief moment, the hall remained silent. Shocked.

Then someone laughed.

It was Marcus.

He stepped forward, his face twisted in disbelief and amusement. "The convict actually dares to come here?"

Vivian joined in, her laughter high and mocking. "Are you out of your mind? Do you know where you are? Do you know who these people are?"

Marcus pointed at Ethan, his voice rising. "Get lost. Right now. Before we have security break your legs and throw you into the street like the trash you are."

Ethan did not even glance at them.

He kept walking toward the cage. Toward Lily.

Richard Langley, who had been watching in silence, finally spoke. His voice was calm. Arrogant. The voice of a man who had never been challenged in his life.

"Do you know who I am?"

Ethan stopped. He turned his head slightly, his gaze settling on Richard.

"No," Ethan said flatly. "And I do not care."

Richard's smile widened. "You should. With a single word, I can end your life like stepping on an ant."

Ethan let out a faint, cold laugh.

"You seem far too confident."

Vivian stepped forward, her voice sharp and cutting. "Confident? He has every right to be confident! Do you know who Mr. Langley is? He is a senior executive of Sterling Global Corporation. One of the most powerful organizations in the world."

Marcus nodded eagerly. "Anyone who offends him is digging their own grave. You are nothing. A criminal. A nobody. And you dare to come here and act tough?"

Richard's smile grew even wider.

He folded his arms,

looking down his nose at Ethan. "Kneel, crawl out of here on your stomach, and maybe I’ll let you keep your legs."

Ethan didn’t even look at him. Instead, he calmly reached into his pocket and pulled out an old, battered mobile phone.

The room erupted in snickers.

"Is he calling the police?"

 "Maybe he's ordering his own tombstone."

Ethan pressed a button.

The call connected instantly.

"It’s me, Claire" Ethan said, his voice flat and chilling. "Richard Langley. Strip him of his title. Erase him from the company records. Then, get to the Sapphire Club in five minutes to meet me."

He ended the call and tucked the phone away.

For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then, the hall exploded with derisive laughter.

Vivian clutched her stomach, tears of mockery streaming down her face. "Did you hear that? He just 'fired' Richard Langley! Oh my God, this is too much! He thinks he’s the Chairman!"

Marcus slapped his knee. "What’s next? Is Claire going to fly in personally to pick up her 'boss'?"

Even Richard let out a low, arrogant chuckle. "I’ve seen desperate men, but you... you’re a special kind of delusional. In this world, no one talks to me like that."

He signaled to two massive bodyguards—former special forces, handpicked elites. "Break his limbs. Throw him to the dogs."

The two bodyguards stepped forward. Their movements were precise. They had done this before. Many times.

 The first man reached him. He raised his fist, aiming for Ethan's face.

Ethan didn’t flinch. He simply stood there, watching them approach.

As the man reached him, Ethan’s palm flew forward with terrifying precision—CRACK! His hand shattered the bodyguard’s face like a sledgehammer into wet plaster.

 Blood sprayed in a wide arc, and the body collapsed with a sickening splatter, his skull split like a ripe melon.

The room froze.

“He… killed him with one hit…”

“That wasn’t normal…”

Vivian’s face turned pale, her breath hitching. Was this terrifying monster truly the man she had just divorced?

“You piece of shit,” Richard hissed, backing away. “You think you can kung-fu your way out of bullets?” He raised his arm. “Shoot him! Kill him now!”

Lily screamed. “No! Ethan!!”

The men opened fire. PO-PO-PO-PO!! Bullets tore through the air, shredding the doorway—but Ethan was gone.

 He didn’t dive for cover. He moved into the line of fire, a blur of motion so fast the human eye couldn’t track it.

“Where is he?!”

“He’s too fast—!”

Ethan didn't give them time to adjust. He reappeared in the center of their formation like a lightning strike.

With a series of lightning-fast strikes—CLANG! SNAP! CRACK!—he moved through the circle of gunmen. His hands were a whirlwind of precision, striking the barrels and wrists of every man raised against him.

In a heartbeat, rifles were twisted out of hands, handguns were slapped away with bone-shattering force, and metal clattered across the marble floor.

 Six men stood clutching broken wrists and empty hands, staring in shock at the weapons now scattered ten feet away.

Marcus swallowed hard.

“That… that’s impossible…” he muttered under his breath.

Vivian’s nails dug into his arm.

“M-Marcus… why are they just standing there?!” she whispered desperately.

But Marcus had no answer.

For the first time since Ethan walked in, he took a small step backward.

Then another.

“Let me show you…” Ethan muttered, cracking his neck as he stood in the center of the disarmed crowd, his eyes burning like coals. “...what hell looks like.”

One guard lunged for a fallen pistol—Ethan stepped on his hand, the sound of grinding bones echoing through the hall, before delivering a kick to the man’s temple that sent him spinning into unconsciousness.

“Circle him!” Richard roared, his voice cracking with desperation. “Use your blades! Kill him!”