The Belittled Husband Now A Trillionaira Boss.

Chapter 2

Without wasting anymore time Sophia picked up her copy of the divorce certificate, folded it neatly, and tucked it into her purse. She walked toward the door without a word.

However Ethan stood frozen, staring at the desk.

“Aren't you coming?” Sophia asked from the doorway, her voice flat.

He didn't answer, why would she be asking him to come. He just followed the door without even looking at her, down the stairs, and through the front entrance of the building.

The parking lot was nearly empty. However looking outside from the parking lot he could see the sky overhead, and it  was gray, thick clouds hanging low. A cool breeze swept across the asphalt, carrying the smell of rain.

He was about walking away when 

he Sophia walked toward a sleek black sedan parked near the entrance.

And immediately she uttered.

“He's here”

At that time the driver's side door opened, and a man stepped out.

He was tall, mid-thirties, dressed in an expensive suit that fit him perfectly. His hair was slicked back, and he wore a watch that probably cost more than Ethan made in  years.

The man walked up to Sophia, wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her close. Then he leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

“You made the right decision,” he said, his voice smooth and confident.

Ethan stopped walking. His feet felt like they'd been nailed to the ground. His chest tightened, and for a second, he thought he might be sick.

“So that's it,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sophia turned to look at him. The man's arm was still around her waist.

Immediately Ethan jaw tightened, he couldn't believe what he was seeing, this explains everything, this explains the divorce, the silent treatment.

 She's seeing another man already.

“You've been cheating on me this whole time,” Ethan said, louder now. His voice shook with anger. “That's why you wanted the divorce.”

Immediately Sophia laughed. It was sharp, mocking, and it cut through the air like a knife.

“Wasn't the handwriting on the wall from the very beginning?” she said, stepping toward him. “What did you think? That someone like me, one of the top ten actresses in this country, was going to stay with a lowlife like you forever?”

Ethan's fists clenched at his sides. His breathing was shallow, uneven.

“Now that I'm at the peak of my career,” Sophia continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “it's only right that I start dating someone who can actually do something for me. Someone who can push me higher, someone the public and my fan wouldn't be mad at, someone they won't see as a disgrace, a downgrade.”

The man beside her smirked, sliding his hand down to rest on her hip.

“Do you even know who this is?” Sophia asked, gesturing to him. “This is Marcus Grant. Director of Sky High Entertainment. One of the top three producers in the country. Why would I settle for you when I could have him?”

Ethan's vision blurred at the edges. His whole body was trembling now.

“I'll expose you,” he said even though he was just joking. The words came out before he could stop them. “I'll tell everyone. I'll—”

Marcus laughed. It was low, casual, like Ethan had just said something funny.

“You really think we were going to let you walk away?” Marcus said, his smile widening.

Ethan froze.

“What?”

Marcus stepped forward, hands in his pockets. His eyes were cold, calculating.

“Did you think we'd just let you go?” he asked. “Knowing you might run your mouth? Knowing you might try to drag her down out of anger?”

He stopped a few feet away from Ethan, tilting his head.

“No. We're not that stupid. If we're going to silence you, we're going to do it right. Completely. So you don't have any story left to tell.”

At that moment Ethan's heart slammed against his ribs. His hands started shaking.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Marcus smiled.

“You're as good as dead.”

Before Ethan could move, five men stepped out from behind the parked cars. They were big, broad-shouldered, dressed in black. Their faces were blank, emotionless.

“Wait—” Ethan backed up, his hands raised. “Wait, please. I have a daughter. Just leave me alone. Don't do this.”

Sophia crossed her arms, watching him like he was a bug she was about to step on.

“When you're gone I'll take care of Emma,” she said. Her voice was flat, empty. “I'll offer her to any orphanage that will take care of her. That's the best I can do for her.”

Immediately Ethan's stomach dropped.

“How can you say that?”he asked, his voice breaking. 

“She's your daughter. Your own flesh and blood. How can you be this heartless?”

Sophia's expression didn't change.

“She was a mistake from the beginning,” she said. “I never wanted her. It just happened.”

“You're a disgrace of a mother”

Immediately Ethan lunged forward, but the men were already on him. Hands grabbed his arms, his shoulders, his neck. He tried to fight back, but there were too many of them. A fist slammed into his ribs. Another hit his jaw. His legs buckled, They kept on hitting him to the point he vomited blood, he could feel his ribs broken and they dragged him across the pavement.

“Throw him in the river,” Marcus said, turning back toward the car.

The men hauled Ethan into the back of a black van. The door slammed shut, and everything went dark.

The van drove for what felt like hours. Every bump in the road sent pain shooting through Ethan's ribs. His hands were tied behind his back, the rope cutting into his wrists. His face was swollen, blood dripping from his nose and mouth.

When the van finally stopped, the doors opened, and they yanked him out. His legs barely worked. His vision swam.

They were near a river now. The water stretched out wide and dark under the gray sky. The sound of it rushing by filled his ears.

One of the men pulled out a bottle of whiskey and poured it over Ethan's head. The liquid burned his eyes, soaked through his clothes. Another man pulled out a sledgehammer.

“Hold him down,” one of them said.

Two men grabbed his legs and forced him to the ground. Ethan tried to scream, but his throat was too dry. The hammer came down on his kneecap.

Crack.

The pain was blinding. White-hot. He screamed then, loud and raw, the sound tearing out of his chest.

Blood gushed out, pooling on the dirt beneath him. His vision went dark at the edges.

His hand twisted against the ropes. The ring on his finger caught the light. It wasn't his wedding ring. It was his father's ring. His grandfather's before that. Passed down through generations.

A drop of blood fell onto the metal.

The ring flared bright, blinding. Then it vanished.

Ethan blinked. His vision blurred. The men threw him into the water.

The cold hit him like a wall. He sank fast, too weak to fight it. His lungs screamed for air. His body felt heavy, useless.

He thought about Emma. Her small hands. Her laugh. The way she called him “Daddy” every morning.

If he had known. If he had just known, he never would have said those words. He never would have trusted Sophia. He gave her everything. And now Emma was going to suffer for it.

If he had one more chance. Just one, his chest tightened. His vision went dark.

Then he heard it.

[Ding.]

A voice echoed in his head. Cold. Mechanical.

[System activated.]

[The Family Ancestry Revenge System has been unlocked.]

[Accept or die.]