I WAS A USELESS SON-IN-LAW, NOW I DECIDE FATE

fight

The voice had barely died in the air when Edward’s gaze locked onto him.

Ethan that bastard

A low snarl rumbled from Edward’s chest.

For years, they had eaten meals together. For years, Edward had shielded him from school bullies, from their father’s cold moods, from the world’s cruelties. And this was how Ethan repaid him? The thought coiled in his gut like poison.

Then Ethan laughed.

It wasn’t a nervous chuckle or a guilty cough. It was a full, open-mouthed laugh the kind that said I know exactly what I did, and I will do it again. He was rubbing salt into the wound, daring Edward to react.

Edward was going to leave. He would Disappear from Goldmere, from their twisted family saga, but not without one final, humiliating goodbye to Ethan.

No one saw Edward move.

One moment he was ten feet away. The next, he stood inches from Ethan, close enough to count the smug little lines around his brother’s eyes.

Smack!

The blow landed flush against Ethan’s cheek, heavy, precise, unforgiving. Ethan’s head snapped sideways so fast his neck cracked. His hand flew to his face, more out of shock than pain. He wasn't used to this. Neither of them was.

They had lived under the same roof until Ethan turned fourteen and Edward eighteen. But they had never fought like ordinary brothers. Edward had always been too mature for childish scuffles. The stoic elder, the protector. He’d fought for Ethan, not against him. Any kid who dared mock Ethan found himself staring up at Edward’s clenched fists. That devotion never wavered not until Edward left for the military.

Even after he returned, Edward had gone abroad for a two-year college degree. They had never truly shared a home again as adults. So no, Ethan had never seen this coming. The blow wasn’t just physical it was a betrayal of every memory Ethan had of his brother’s gentleness towards him.

Ethan had been bred and raised in Goldmere. His college, his connections, his entire world all here. Their father, Caleb, had always reserved a special, almost desperate affection for Edward, the living reminder of his first wife. As for Ethan’s own mother? She just existed in the manor present but never cherished. Most days, Ethan suspected his father didn’t love her at all, and had extended that indifference to him her son.

So when the disinheritance came a year ago, Ethan had felt something he rarely allowed himself, joy. Pure, unexpected, giddy joy. He hadn’t seen it coming. But once it landed in his lap, he decided to wield it like a blade. He would take everything their father would never have given him if Edward still stood in the way. He moved fast, just in case Caleb changed his mind though Ethan doubted it. Whatever had shattered that loving father-son friendship, it ran deep. Deep enough to make a man hate his own golden child.

Edward’s voice cut through the memory, low and sharp as a blade’s edge.

“You could have taken her if you truly wanted her. But the texts? The delivery? You had to go the extra mile, didn’t you?” Edward’s jaw tightened. “To make me feel less than a man. To humiliate me in front of every elite who used to respect me. That tells me one thing you don’t love Ava. You’re with her because you want to strip everything from me.” He paused, breathing hard. “Fine. I don’t care anymore. You can have her.”

A few security men rushed forward their boots pounding the gravel.

“Don’t,” Edward said. His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a thunderclap. “Not one of you dares move closer. You know you’re no match for me.”

He swept his glare across them slow, deliberate, dangerous. And they stopped. Every single one. Because they had seen Edward fight before, even before he enlisted. He was a beast. A man who turned violence into an art form. And that made their courage curdled into hesitation.

“You chicken hearts!” Ethan finally came to his senses the numbness from the blow had faded, replaced by a throbbing fire in his cheek. “Do I pay you to be scared? I want him on his knees! I want him to beg!”

Ethan knew, even as he shouted, that it was a fool’s order. He had over twenty security men on the grounds. But Edward had spent seven years in the military eighteen to twenty-five, then back four years ago. Even before that, he possessed a raw, almost unnatural strength. Sometimes Ethan wondered if Edward was truly Caleb’s son. Caleb was weak. And ironically, Ethan had inherited that same weakness.

“You talk about respect,” Ethan spat, circling his brother like a hyena afraid to bite. “You want respect? You don’t deserve it, dear brother. You shouldn’t have come all the way here. You’ll only leave more humiliated than when you arrived.”

He raised his voice to a shout “Fight him!”

The security men hesitated for one breath. Then they rushed Edward all at once.

It lasted for a few seconds.

Edward moved effortlessly flowing around fists, bending under grabs, snapping back with brutal efficiency. One guard lunged, Edward caught his arm, twisted, and the bone cracked like dry wood. Another came from behind Edward elbowed him in the temple, and he dropped as if unplugged. A third tried a tackle Edward sidestepped, grabbed the back of his collar, and slammed him face-first into the gravel. One. Two. He threw them down as if they were made of straw, their limbs bent at wrong angles, their screams every corner.

More security men poured from the villa's side doors. They saw their colleagues writhing on the ground, clutching shattered arms and dislocated shoulders. They stopped at the edge of the green lawns, unwilling to cross an invisible line.

Edward straightened his shirt, not even breathing hard. He looked at Ethan one last time not with anger, but with something worse disappointment so deep it looked like pity.

“This is just the tip of the iceberg,” Edward said quietly. “Expect more.”

He swung a leg over his bike, kicked the engine to life, and sped off.

Ethan stood frozen for a moment, then exploded.

“You idiots! You’re fired!” He jabbed a finger at every guard still standing. “All of you! And I will make sure you never work anywhere in Goldmere again. Not as a security guard, not as a mall cop, not as a night watchman. Nowhere.”

He spun on John, his personal assistant, who had been watching from the doorway with bloodless lips.

“Get me new securities,” Ethan snapped, his voice raw. “Military background only. Real ones not these weak fools. I want men who have seen combat, who won’t wet themselves when my brother looks at them. ASAP.”

Then he turned and stormed into the house, the heavy oak door slamming shut behind him like a final, furious heartbeat wishing the door was Edward.