RISE OF THE WORTHLESS SON-IN-LAW

CHAPTER FOUR

Ethan stepped away from Vortex Inc., his phone still in his hand after ending the call. His lips curled into a faint smile, though his heart felt heavier than ever.

Ethan wasn’t going back home until he had taken his revenge on those who wronged him. And as for his father? He’d visit the man when he was done. No one could rush him.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and took out a black VIP card. The surface gleamed under the sunlight. This wasn’t just any card;it was a symbol of the elite.

There were fewer than ten in the entire country. It gave him access to private services, exclusive benefits, and a personal team ready to cater to his every need, no matter the time.

Ethan dialed the number on the back of the card. His fingers were steady, but his pulse quickened.

A soft, honeyed voice answered. “Good afternoon, Mr. Cole. How can I assist you today?”

“Check my balance right now.” Ethan requested.

“Certainly, sir. Please hold for a moment,” the lady said.

The line was quiet except for a faint clicking sound as she accessed the system. A few seconds later, her voice returned.

“Mr. Cole, I’m afraid I don’t have the authorization to view your balance. It exceeds our usual access limits. For a client of your status, I’d suggest visiting the bank in person. If you’d like, I can arrange for a private car and security to pick you up, and we’ll ensure your comfort during the visit.”

Ethan was surprised. Too much money to check?

A slow chuckle escaped his lips as he replied. “There will be no need for that.”

After years of scraping by, hiding his real identity, and living a poor life. His bank account that was frozen was finally activated and he knew exactly who he wanted to share it with.

A chill breath entered Ethan’s lungs as he muttered to himself, “Clara I’m rich now. I won’t let you suffer.”

Without wasting another second, he grabbed the keys to his battered old scooter and turned it on. The engine sputtered and it barely held together, shaking beneath him like it might collapse at any moment as he rode toward Crystal bank.

Out of nowhere, a green sports car swerved in front. The car slammed into the side of his scooter, sending him crashing onto the pavement. His hands scraped against the rough ground, stinging from the fall.

The scooter clattered a few feet away, one handle bent out of shape. His jeans were torn at the knees, and dirt smudged his hands, but he ignored the pain.

Ethan groaned, pushing himself up as a sharp, mocking voice cut through the air behind him.

Ethan recognized that voice instantly;Gavin Quinn. A smug, overdressed parasite who had been circling Racheal for years like a vulture waiting for him to fail.

The driver’s door opened with a soft click, and Gavin Quinn stepped out, his designer shoes tapping against the pavement. A cruel smirk curled on his lips.

“Oops,” Gavin said, pretending to look concerned. “Didn’t see you there, Ethan. Maybe if your ride wasn’t older than my grandpa, this wouldn’t have happened.”

The passenger doors swung open next, and his two friends;both dressed in expensive suits;climbed out, grinning like they were ready to cause trouble.

“Well, well… Isn’t this a surprise? Ethan Cole reduced to pushing that rusty piece of junk?”

Gavin strolled closer, adjusting the silver watch on his wrist. Behind him, the two other men in custom-made suits snickered, their laughter laced with cruelty.

“Come on, guys,” one of them drawled, “cut the guy some slack. That scooter probably means a lot to him. Maybe it’s a family heirloom.”

The other man chuckled.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “You think this is funny?”

Gavin laughed. “Come on, Ethan. Lighten up. You should thank us, we just gave you a good reason to dump that piece of junk.”

Ethan straightened up before speaking. “You really have nothing better to do, Gavin?”

“Why would I?” Gavin spread his arms wide open. “Watching you struggle is the highlight of my day.” His eyes glinted with malice.

Ethan’s fists curled tight. He’d had enough.

Gavin stepped closer, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket. “You’re still playing poorly? No wonder Racheal left you yet for another man. Must be tiring carrying a loser like you around.”

That was the last straw that broke the camel's back.

Without warning, Ethan swung his fist straight into Gavin’s face. The punch landed hard, and Gavin stumbled back, clutching his nose as blood trickled down. His fancy sunglasses flew off, crashing onto the ground in pieces.

“What the hell?!” Gavin growled, but before he could react, Ethan was already moving.

The first guy tried to grab him, but Ethan twisted out of his grip and drove his elbow into the man’s ribs. The guy doubled over, gasping for air. Ethan didn’t give him time to recover, he swung again, knocking him flat on his back.

The second man sprang forward, but Ethan ducked low and swept his leg under him. The man crashed onto the ground with a thud, groaning in pain.

Gavin, still holding his bleeding nose, tried to run back to the car, but Ethan wasn’t done. He grabbed Gavin by the collar and slammed him against the hood.

“You wanted to play tough?” Ethan’s voice was cold. “Here I am.”

He pulled back his fist and punched Gavin again, splitting his lip open this time. Gavin whimpered, his cocky attitude gone.

Ethan let him go, watching as he slid down the side of the car, shaking.

Not satisfied, Ethan reached into his pocket, pulled out a small knife, and knelt by the car.

Gavin’s eyes widened in panic. “No, please don't!”

In quick moves, Ethan stabbed the blade into the rear tires, deflating them with a loud hiss.

Ethan stood up, brushing off his hands. “Next time you mess with me, I won’t stop at your car.”

He turned his back on the three of them, leaving them beaten and humiliated beside their fancy, useless ride. Without a second glance, Ethan walked over, grabbed his dented scooter, and pushed it toward Crystal Bank.