A Divorce She Regrets

CHAPTER 9

The hall fell silent.

Every conversation stopped. Every laugh died. Even the music seemed to fade into nothing.

All eyes turned toward the shattered entrance.

A man stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the bright lights of the corridor behind him. His clothes were simple. Plain and nothing special. But the way he stood—completely still and  calm made the air feel heavy and dangerous.

Ethan's 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 dress was torn and filthy. Her body trembled violently.

And she was on her knees.

Something inside Ethan's chest twisted so painfully 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.

But he did not shout. He did not run forward.

He simply walked.

Slow. Steady. His footsteps echoed across the marble floor.

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."

He folded his arms, his expression smug. "So I suggest you leave now. Walk away quietly. And maybe—just maybe—I will let you keep your legs."

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 enjoyed this. The fear. The groveling. The knowledge that he held absolute power over everyone in this room.

Ethan's gaze sharpened. His voice dropped to a whisper.

"Then let me tell you something, Mr. Langley."

He took one step closer.

"From this moment on, you are no longer part of Sterling Global."

The room erupted in laughter.

It was loud. Unrestrained and mocking.

Vivian clutched her stomach, tears streaming down her face from laughing so hard. "Did you hear that? He just fired Richard Langley! Oh my God, this is too much!"

Marcus slapped his knee. "What is he going to do next? Claim he is the chairman? That Claire Sterling came to pick him up in person?"

The guests around them joined in, their laughter echoing through the hall.

"Delusional," someone muttered.

"Prison must have broken his brain," another said.

Even Richard laughed. It was a low, mocking sound. "I have seen many desperate men in my life. But you… you are something special."

He gestured casually toward two bodyguards standing near the wall. They were large, muscular men dressed in black suits. Their faces were hard. Emotionless.

Former special forces. Handpicked elites.

"Break his arms and legs," Richard said lazily. "Then throw him out to feed the dogs."

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

Ethan did not move.

He simply stood there, watching them approach.

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

Ethan shifted.

It was so fast no one saw it happen.

One moment the bodyguard's fist was flying toward him.

The next moment, the bodyguard was on the ground, screaming, his arm bent at an unnatural angle.

The second bodyguard lunged forward.

Ethan caught his wrist mid-swing, twisted, and slammed him into the floor.

The sound of bone cracking echoed through the hall.

Richard's smile faltered.

"Get him!" he barked.

Four more bodyguards rushed forward. All of them trained killers. All of them confident in their abilities.

Ethan moved like water.

No wasted movements. No hesitation. Just brutal, efficient precision.

One bodyguard swung a steel baton. Ethan caught it, twisted it free, and drove it into the man's knee. He collapsed instantly.

Another tried to grab Ethan from behind. Ethan spun, drove his elbow into the man's ribs, and dropped him with a single strike.

Within seconds, all six bodyguards lay on the floor.

Groaning. Bleeding. Broken.

The hall was silent again.

Richard's smile was completely gone now. His face had gone pale. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

"What… what are you?" he whispered.

Ethan did not answer. He turned away from Richard as if the man no longer existed.

Marcus's confidence shattered. Panic flashed in his eyes. He grabbed the chain around Lily's ankle and yanked her closer to the bars. His other hand wrapped around her throat.

"Stay back!" Marcus shouted. His voice cracked. "Stay back or I will kill her!"

Vivian rushed to his side, her face twisted with fear and anger. "Do not think you are tough just because you know a few cheap tricks! This is not a place for criminals like you to run wild!"

The guests, who had been laughing moments ago, now stood frozen. Some backed toward the exits. Others whispered urgently to each other.

Marcus tightened his grip on Lily's throat. She gasped, her hands clawing weakly at his arm.

"Kneel down!" Marcus screamed. "Kneel down and apologize to Mr. Langley, or I swear I will snap her neck right now!"

The crowd joined in, their voices rising.

"Kneel!"

"Apologize!"

"You brought this on yourself!"

Ethan stopped walking.

His hands slowly curled into fists. His fingers trembled. Not from fear.

From rage.

Pure, unfiltered rage.

He looked at Marcus. And for the first time since entering the hall, Ethan's expression changed.

His eyes went cold. Dark and lifeless.

Like staring into the eyes of death itself.

Marcus felt his blood turn to ice.

Before anyone could speak, the doors at the far end of the hall burst open.

A man ran in, his face pale, his voice shaking.

"Helicopters!" he shouted. "Dozens of helicopters just landed outside! All of them have the Sterling Global logo!”