The Beggar Husband Is a Trillionaire God

Chapter 7

The sound of George Shaw's heavy breathing was the only noise inside the VIP martial arena.

Nobody moved. Nobody dared to take a breath.

The wealthy heirs of Riverdale sat frozen, champagne glasses trembling in their hands. They looked at George Shaw, the powerful General Manager of the Apex Club, kneeling on the floor before a man in torn sneakers.

It felt like a fever dream.

Ethan Cole looked down at George Shaw with calm indifference. He adjusted his wooden toolbox over his shoulder.

"Stand up," Ethan said in a quiet voice. "I told your men I came to watch a show, not to receive your bows. You are making too much noise."

"Yes, Master! Forgive my disturbance!" George scrambled to his feet, keeping his head bowed low, his hands folded like an obedient servant.

On the floor, Richard Vance struggled to sit up.

Blood trickled down his chin from his split lip. A gap in his front teeth made his words sound wet and slurred.

"Manager Shaw!" Richard yelled, his voice cracking with rage. "Have you lost your mind?! My father is Marcus Vance, Chairman of Vance Logistics! We spend ten million dollars here every year!"

Richard pointed a bloody finger at Ethan's dusty shoes.

"This man is a dirty beggar! He broke my knee at the Hayes Villa, and he just broke Brutus's arm! Why are you kneeling to this trash?!"

George turned around slowly, his face full of icy fury.

"Shut your mouth, Richard Vance!" George barked. "Ten million dollars? Even if your father sold his entire logistics fleet, your family would not be worthy to wipe dirt from our Sovereign's shoes!"

The young heirs gasped in unison.

The Sovereign!

George Shaw was ready to throw away a ten-million-dollar client just to defend this young man with the wooden toolbox!

George waved his hand toward the twenty armed security guards.

"Drag Richard Vance out of the Apex Club!" George commanded. "Revoke his VIP membership permanently! If he ever steps foot through our doors again, break both of his legs and toss him into the river!"

"Yes, Manager Shaw!"

Four burly guards stepped forward, grabbing Richard by his arms and dragging him across the floor like trash.

"Let go of me! Manager Shaw, you will regret this!" Richard screamed as his injured knee dragged against the carpet.

As the guards dragged him past Claire, Richard's face twisted with pure venom.

"Claire Hayes! You think this beggar can protect you?!" Richard shouted, spitting blood. "Tomorrow morning at eight o'clock, my father will freeze all of your imported raw materials at the port! Hayes Bio-Pharma will run out of medicine! Your company will go bankrupt, and you will come crawling to my feet!"

Bang!

The heavy doors closed behind Richard Vance, cutting off his frantic curses.

Silence settled over the arena once more.

Chloe Jenkins stood in the corner, pale as a ghost, her designer purse trembling in her grip. She had spent the last two hours calling Ethan an illiterate stray who carried germs.

Now, her knees shook so hard she could barely stand.

Ethan did not look at Chloe. He did not look at the terrified heirs in the lounge. He turned toward Claire.

"The show is over," Ethan said calmly. "Let us go."

Claire stood rooted to the spot, her hazel eyes locked onto Ethan's face.

First, he had revived her grandfather from the dead with three silver needles. Now, the General Manager of Riverdale's most exclusive club had slapped a billionaire heir and knelt before his dirty shoes.

Who was he? Was he really just a wanderer from the mountains?

"Yes... let us go," Claire whispered.

She turned and walked toward the exit, her footsteps unsteady. Ethan followed behind at an easy pace.

George Shaw hurried alongside Ethan, bowing with every step until they reached the main doors.

"Master, allow me to arrange a private limousine to take you home," George offered eagerly.

"No need," Ethan said without turning his head. "I have a ride."

Outside the Apex Club, Chloe did not say a single word. She hopped into her yellow Maserati, locked the doors, and sped away in terror.

Claire unlocked her silver Porsche Taycan. Ethan walked over, opened the passenger door, and sat inside, placing his wooden box on the floorboard between his feet.

Claire got into the driver's seat. She inserted the key, but she did not start the engine.

Her hands gripped the leather steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white.

She turned her head, staring at Ethan with burning curiosity.

"Ethan Cole," Claire said, her voice shaking slightly. "Who are you really?"

Ethan leaned back against the leather seat. "I already told you this morning. I am a doctor. And I am the chairman of Apex Medical."

Claire let out a dry, frustrated laugh.

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Claire shook her head. "Apex Medical is a global corporate giant! The chairman of Apex Medical travels by private jet and meets with world leaders! He does not wear five-dollar shoes and carry a wooden box tied with rope!"

Ethan smiled faintly. "People often judge a tiger by the dust on its fur. When the tiger roars, they realize their mistake, but by then it is too late."

Claire sighed in frustration. "You must have done a medical favor for Thomas Cross, haven't you? Thomas Cross owns the Apex Club. He gave you that black card to repay a favor, and Manager Shaw only knelt because of Thomas Cross's emblem!"

Ethan looked at her with amusement. "If that explanation makes you feel comfortable, Miss Hayes, you can believe it."

"I knew it!" Claire muttered, exhaling a deep breath.

She started the Porsche's engine, the electric motor humming softly.

"Even so, you were too reckless," Claire said, steering the car onto the main road. "You humiliated Richard Vance today. But Richard was not bluffing about our cargo. His family controls the eastern shipping port. If Vance Logistics freezes our raw ingredients tomorrow, Hayes Bio-Pharma will lose thirty million dollars in contract penalties."

Pain flashed across her face. "My grandfather spent forty years building that company. I cannot let it be destroyed."

"Do not worry about the cargo," Ethan said firmly. "If Richard Vance dares to touch your shipments, I will make Vance Logistics disappear from Riverdale before noon tomorrow."

Claire scoffed, rolling her eyes. "More empty boasting. You think having one VIP card makes you the king of Riverdale? Vance Logistics has powerful backers. Even Thomas Cross has to show them respect."

Before Ethan could reply, a sharp ringtone broke the silence.

Ethan pulled his cracked mobile phone from his canvas pocket. The screen showed an emergency number.

Ethan pressed answer and brought the phone to his ear. "Speak."

A frantic, sobbing voice came through the speaker, loud enough for Claire to hear every word.

"Master! Master Cole! This is Thomas Cross!" the city kingpin wept in agony. "My daughter Lily just suffered total cardiovascular collapse! Her heart has stopped! The chief surgeon says she is gone! They are preparing her death certificate!"

Thomas gasped for air, weeping desperately. "Master, I beg you! You promised you would save her! Only your Ghost Needles can pull her back from death! I am begging you on my knees!"

Ethan's eyes instantly turned razor-sharp, a cold aura filling the car.

"Tell the doctors not to touch her body," Ethan commanded in a voice of steel. "Keep her chest warm with hot blankets. I am on my way."

Ethan hung up the phone and looked directly at Claire.

"Turn the car around," Ethan said. "Drive to Riverdale Central Hospital. Right now."