Now You Beg Me

“Take your junk and get out of my house. Now.”

The porcelain shattered across the marble floor, splashes of meat sauce staining the tip of Robert’s leather shoes. The clinking of cutlery along the long dining table stopped completely. A dozen invited guests froze in their seats.

Robert stood rigid, the veins in his neck bulging, his index finger pointed straight at Ethan, who stood motionless in the corner of the dining room.

“For ten years, I took you in,” Robert hissed, his voice heavy and pressing. “For ten years, I fed you. And you dare think you’re worthy of sitting beside my colleagues?”

Ethan stared at the stain on Robert’s shoes. He swallowed, a bitter taste tightening his throat. His hands clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. He did not say a word. Slowly, his gaze lifted and locked onto the middle-aged man.

“Answer me.” Robert’s voice cut through the silence. “Are you mute?”

“I was cleaning the table.” Ethan stood straight, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t ask for a seat tonight.”

“You’re not worthy of one.” Robert turned away, his hand landing firmly on the shoulder of a young man in a white suit seated calmly at his right.

“Starting today, the position of heir to Sterling Group returns to where it belongs. This is Liam. My biological son.”

Liam lifted his chin, the corner of his lips curving upward. He adjusted his collar slowly, maintaining his gaze on Ethan.

“Hello, Ethan.” Liam leaned back in his chair. “Thank you for taking care of my room while I was away. You’ve done a decent job looking after my things.”

Soft murmurs spread along the table. Some guests lowered their heads, hiding smiles behind their hands and napkins. Ethan exhaled quietly through his nose, his eyes unblinking as he stared at the two men at the end of the table.

“Did you hear me?” Robert’s voice hardened. “Pack your things and leave.”

“Are you sure you can keep this company standing without me, Robert?” Ethan’s voice was calm, almost devoid of emotion. “You’re throwing me away after all your mess has been cleaned up?”

“You’re nothing but a watchdog.” Martha set her wine glass down with a sharp clink. “Your job was to clean up corporate filth. Don’t ever think you were part of this family.”

“I gave all my time to the company.” Ethan remained standing tall. “I never asked for a single cent in salary from any of you.”

“Because you owe us.” Martha’s sharp gaze cut across the table.

“We took you out of that filthy orphanage. You should be on your knees, not demanding a place at this table.”

Ethan turned his body. He walked toward the chair in the corner to retrieve his coat. After one step, his feet stopped. A woman stepped forward, completely blocking his path.

Clara stood in his way. The scent of roses and vanilla drifted from her silk dress. Ethan held his breath. The fragrance that once felt familiar now twisted his stomach.

“Clara,” Ethan called softly.

Her gaze dropped, sweeping over Ethan’s worn shoes before rising back to his face. Her jaw tightened.

“Don’t say my name.” Clara crossed her arms over her chest.

She raised her left hand. A diamond ring circled her ring finger. The same ring that had drained Ethan’s secret savings a year ago. Clara gripped the band and yanked it off.

The diamond ring fell against the marble, spinning slowly before stopping right at the tip of Ethan’s shoe.

“You think I actually loved you all this time?” Clara let out a soft laugh. “Did you really think I wanted to spend my life with a man like you?”

Ethan lowered his gaze to the reflection of light on the metal surface. His jaw tightened as his eyes slowly rose again, locking onto Clara’s.

“I did this for our future.” His voice was low. “You know I was the one who completed that port project.”

“What future?” Clara lifted her chin. “Staying with you for a year was a mistake. I’m sick of it.”

Liam stepped forward, his arm in the white suit wrapping around Clara’s waist. She did not pull away. Instead, she leaned her head against his shoulder, her fingers brushing lightly over his chest in front of the watching guests.

“Face your position, Ethan.” Clara’s lips curved slightly. “Liam is the rightful heir here. He has everything. You’re just a parasite.”

“That’s right.” Liam kissed Clara’s hair. “This man has no future.”

Ethan remained frozen in place, his jaw set hard. His eyes stayed fixed on Clara, refusing to blink, refusing to look away.

“You’ll regret this decision, Clara,” Ethan said.

Clara scoffed and turned her face away. “The biggest mistake of my life was staying near you. You made me look pathetic.”

Robert slammed his hand on the dining table. The sound echoed sharply across the room.

“Enough! Guards, throw this trash out now.”

Two guards in black suits stepped forward. Their hands seized Ethan’s arms at the same time, forcing him back away from the table.

“I can walk on my own.” Ethan resisted as his shoulders were pulled.

They ignored him, dragging him past rows of silent, watching guests.

Near the main door, Ethan’s leather suitcase lay on the floor. The zipper had burst, several worn shirts spilling out onto the marble.

The main teak door swung open. Night wind struck his face instantly. One of the guards shoved his chest hard.

Ethan stumbled outside. He lost his balance and fell onto the terrace floor. His palms scraped against the rough stone, skin tearing open.

His suitcase was thrown after him, hitting a pillar before collapsing beside his knees.

“Never come back here.”

The teak door slammed shut in front of him.

Heavy rain pounded the terrace floor. Ethan pushed himself up stiffly. Water streamed from his hair, blurring his vision. He grabbed the handle of the soaked suitcase, the cold air burning his lungs with every breath.

He walked away. His shoes stepped through muddy puddles in the yard, past the gate guards, and onto a sidewalk flooded up to his ankles. A car sped by, splashing dirty water onto his trousers. Ethan kept walking without looking back.

Ten years of cleaning up the Sterling family’s legal and tax trails ended on this wet asphalt.

His steps stopped at an intersection beneath a flickering streetlight. Ethan crouched down, lifting the worn suitcase onto his thigh. He pulled at the broken zipper, exposing the pile of soaked clothes beneath the pouring rain.

He pushed the clothes aside. His hand searched the base of the suitcase, feeling for the thick seam in the corner of the inner lining. He gripped the worn fabric and pulled with force. The faint sound of tearing cloth was swallowed by the rain.

A hidden compartment opened at the bottom. Inside lay a thin, waterproof metal box. Ethan took it out and opened it. A thick black satellite phone rested neatly within.

For three years, he had buried his true identity for a normal life with Clara.

Ethan wiped the wet screen with his thumb, his gaze turning flat as it pierced the darkness of the street. He pressed the power button on the side.

The screen lit up in the dark, displaying the emblem of a carved golden lion’s head.