The Belittled Husband Now A Trillionaira Boss.

Chapter 12

The mockery in his tone dripped like poison.

Then his expression shifted.The amusement didn't leave completely, but something darker entered his eyes.

"You've already involved yourself in this matter," he said coldly. "That means we're not going to let you walk away."

He tilted his head, almost thoughtfully.

"And I'm sure the big boss will personally find you interesting. Very interesting."

A cruel smile touched his lips.

"He might even enjoy hearing about you. A nobody who shoved himself into business that didn't concern him. A stray dog who stepped into something far above his station."

The boss's eyes swept over Ethan with open disdain.

"So what I want you to do now is simple," he said. "Keep your mouth shut."

He lifted one finger.

"Just keep your mouth shut, and maybe—maybe—we'll decide what to do with you later."

Ethan stared at him for a second.

Then another.

Behind him, in the far distance of his thoughts, there was another pressure weighing on him entirely—Mia.

He was already late, not just a little late.

Very late

Five whole minutes had already passed beyond the time he should have been there.

Under normal circumstances, that might not have meant much to anyone else.

But to Ethan, it mattered.

He had things to do. A destination to reach. A promise to keep. He had no interest in wasting more time in a bus station surrounded by traitors, gang members, and people who seemed determined to turn every passing second into a new problem.

His patience, already thin, wore down further.

At last, he spoke again.

"I said I don't have time to exchange words with you."

This time his tone was colder.

Flatter.

More dangerous

"Because I really don't have time for this."

His eyes fixed on the leader with growing indifference, as though the man was no longer worth even the effort of annoyance.

"I need to be somewhere important."

Those words, simple as they were, made the leader's expression shift.

The laughter around them faded.

The boss stared at Ethan for a moment as if he weren't sure whether to be offended or amused all over again.

Then his face settled into something ugly.

Something hard.

He didn't bother replying with more words.

Instead, he simply gestured toward Ethan.

It was a small motion of his hand, casual and absolute, the kind a man made when he had long grown used to ordering pain as easily as breathing.

"Get him."

The atmosphere changed instantly.

The laughter became sharper

The men nearest Ethan straightened with eager expressions, as though they had been waiting for permission.

"Pin him down," the boss added. "We're taking him with us.

At once, movement erupted.

One of the men closest to Ethan lunged forward first, grinning broadly as he rushed in. Then another followed. Then two more, boots scraping hard against the concrete floor as they broke into a run.

Their faces were twisted with excitement.

The kind of excitement cruel men wore when they believed they were about to enjoy themselves.

They cracked their knuckles. Rolled their shoulders. Smiled at him like wolves that had cornered prey.

And as they charged toward Ethan, laughing without

restraint, one of them shouted to the others with savage delight,

"We are going to enjoy this."