The Beggar Husband Is a Trillionaire God

Chapter 2

The morning rain fell softly over the pavement of Riverdale's southern district.

Ethan Cole stepped out of room 204. He wore his faded green army shirt, cheap canvas trousers, and worn sneakers. He slung his battered wooden toolbox over one shoulder with a thick hemp rope.

He did not touch the five thousand dollars on the motel floor. To him, paper money was meaningless.

As he walked out into the misty street, the city was just waking up. The sidewalks were quiet, with only a few early workers hurrying under umbrellas.

Ethan took a deep breath. The ancient Dragon Qi inside his chest spun smoothly, warming his blood.

He had walked less than fifty paces when the ground began to vibrate.

A low, heavy rumble echoed from the end of the boulevard.

From the northern intersection, a convoy of black vehicles appeared. Ten bulletproof Maybach sedans drove in two tight rows, surrounding a massive Rolls-Royce Phantom.

Pedestrians froze on the sidewalks in fear. Everyone in Riverdale recognized the silver wolf emblem on the car doors. It was the personal fleet of Thomas Cross, the undisputed king of Riverdale's business and underground world.

The convoy screeched to a halt, completely blocking the street.

The doors of all ten Maybachs swung open at once. Forty men in sharp black suits stepped into the rain. They formed two straight lines, bowing their heads at a ninety-degree angle.

The silence on the street was total.

Then, the rear door of the Rolls-Royce opened.

A man in his early fifties stepped out into the puddles. He wore an expensive wool coat and carried a gold-tipped cane. His face was weathered and harsh, the face of a man who had clawed his way to the top of the city.

Yet, the moment Thomas Cross saw Ethan Cole standing in his dirty sneakers, his face filled with terror and awe.

His gold-tipped cane dropped straight into a puddle.

Thomas fell to his knees in the wet street, pressing both hands against the dirty asphalt.

"Riverdale Command welcomes the Sovereign!" Thomas's voice shook with reverence. "This servant was late to receive you. Please, Master, punish me!"

The forty bodyguards lowered their heads even further, not daring to make a sound.

Ethan stopped. He looked down at the kneeling billionaire with cold eyes.

"Thomas."

"Yes, Master!"

"Did you bring forty bodyguards just to watch me leave a cheap motel?" Ethan asked coldly. "I told you I was entering Riverdale incognito. Are you trying to announce my arrival to the entire country?"

Cold sweat poured down Thomas Cross's back.

"Forgive this old dog's stupidity, Sovereign!" Thomas scrambled up, waving a quick signal to his men.

Within seconds, the forty guards jumped back into the vehicles. The convoy dispersed, leaving only the black Rolls-Royce idling by the curb.

Thomas bowed again, pulling a black velvet box from his coat. He held it out with both hands.

Inside lay a black card made of pure titanium, with an uncut diamond set into the eye of an engraved dragon.

"The Black Dragon Card, My Lord," Thomas whispered respectfully. "It is connected to the central accounts of Apex Medical. It has no credit limit. Our worldwide concierge team is ready to carry out any command you give."

Ethan picked up the card and shoved it into his trouser pocket like scrap paper.

"What else?" Ethan asked.

"I have prepared the Grand Imperial Villa for you," Thomas said quickly. "Along with a new sports car and twenty trained servants."

"Cancel the villa. Send the servants away," Ethan interrupted. "I like quiet. I do not need luxury."

Thomas nodded rapidly. "Understood, Master."

"Now, tell me what is troubling you," Ethan said. "You smell like hospital medicine and grief."

Thomas's eyes reddened with tears. The ruthless billionaire suddenly looked like a broken father.

"Nothing escapes your eyes, Master," Thomas choked out. "My only daughter, Lily, was born with a rare heart illness. Three days ago, her condition collapsed. The doctors say she has less than a week. I have spent millions of dollars, but nobody can save her. Master, I beg you. Please save my child!"

Thomas tried to kneel again, but Ethan caught his shoulder with one hand.

"I will visit your daughter tomorrow," Ethan said calmly. "As long as she still draws breath, my needles will not let the King of Hell take her."

Thomas gasped, tears of joy spilling down his cheeks. He bowed deeply. "Thank you, Sovereign! Thank you for your mercy!"

To anyone else, saving a dying girl was an impossible miracle. But to Ethan Cole, pulling people from death was as simple as breathing.

"Now, listen to my orders," Ethan continued. "I need you to find someone for me."

"Name him, Master!"

"Ten years ago, when the Cole family was destroyed and I was starving on the streets, an old street vendor shared half a loaf of bread with me. People called him Uncle Jo. He had a limp in his left leg. Find him. When you do, do not disturb him. Report back to me."

"I will search every inch of Riverdale immediately," Thomas promised.

"Good," Ethan said. "I have one more matter to handle. My master arranged a marriage for me in Riverdale ten years ago. It is time to fulfill that debt."

Thomas blinked in surprise. "Which family has such incredible fortune, Master?"

"The Hayes family," Ethan replied.

Thomas's face changed. "The Hayes family? William Hayes?"

"You know them?"

"William Hayes collapsed from a heart attack three months ago," Thomas explained carefully. "He is barely hanging on. His granddaughter, Claire Hayes, is running their pharmaceutical firm, but Richard Vance has cornered her. The Vance family is cutting off her shipping routes to force her into marriage."

Ethan smiled faintly.

The arrogant Ice Queen who had thrown money in his face was his arranged bride. And Richard Vance, the man who had tried to drug her in that hotel, was trying to steal her company.

"Destiny really has a strange sense of humor," Ethan muttered.

"Master, shall I have the Vance family crushed today?" Thomas asked, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"No," Ethan said calmly. "A small insect like Richard Vance is not worth moving the army. I will handle the Hayes family myself."

Ethan raised his hand to hail a regular yellow taxi driving down the street.

"Do not follow me," Ethan ordered.

"Yes, Sovereign!" Thomas bowed low in the rain until the taxi drove away.

Forty minutes later, the taxi stopped outside the iron gates of the Hayes Villa on Mount Vista.

It was a wealthy neighborhood of multi-million-dollar mansions. But the Hayes manor looked tired. The gardens were overgrown, and only one bored guard stood at the gatehouse.

Ethan paid the driver, slung his wooden toolbox over his shoulder, and walked toward the gate.

Just as his hand reached for the intercom button, the roar of an engine ripped through the street.

A silver Porsche Taycan rounded the corner, tires screeching as it pulled up to the gate, splashing puddle water toward Ethan's sneakers.

Ethan stepped aside lightly, avoiding the dirty spray.

The Porsche's door swung open.

Claire Hayes stepped out of the car, her hazel eyes blazing with stress and exhaustion.

Then, she turned around.

Her eyes locked straight onto Ethan's faded green shirt, his worn sneakers, and the battered wooden box on his shoulder.

Claire froze in place, her face turning pale with absolute shock.

"You?!" Claire shouted, her voice echoing down the driveway. "What are you doing here, you filthy stalker?!"