The Disgraced Husband Is Actually Royalty In Hiding

Chapter 5_Lights Out

Sophia did not answer.

She just stood there on the dance floor with Kael holding her hand. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

Ethan moved fast.

He stepped out from behind the group of women and walked straight onto the dance floor. He kept his head down and his shoulders bent, like a shy man who didn't know where he was going. He bumped into a waiter on purpose. A glass of champagne fell and broke on the marble floor.

Everyone turned to look.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry," Ethan said loudly. "I'm so clumsy. Sorry."

People laughed. A woman nearby said, "Who let him in here?"

Ethan walked up to Sophia and touched her arm gently. He did not look at Kael. He looked only at the floor.

"Sophia, I'm sorry," he said in a soft, nervous voice. "I don't feel well. Can we go outside for some air?"

"Of course," Sophia said quickly. She pulled her hand away from Kael. "Excuse me, Count Kael. My husband needs me."

Kael smiled. "Of course, my dear. Family comes first."

Ethan turned to leave. He was almost free.

"Mr. Cole."

Ethan stopped. His back was to Kael.

"Look at me, Mr. Cole," Kael said softly.

Every muscle in Ethan's body was tight. If he turned around and Kael saw his face clearly, under the bright lights, from two feet away…

Slowly, Ethan turned. But he kept his eyes down. He let his mouth hang open a little, like a confused, simple man. He made his body small and weak.

"Yes, sir?"

Kael stepped closer. He tilted his head and studied Ethan's face.

"Lift your head," Kael said.

Ethan lifted it a little. But he looked at Kael's shoulder, not his eyes.

Kael was quiet for a long time. Ethan could feel those cold blue eyes moving over his face. His nose. His jaw. His forehead.

"Where are you from, Mr. Cole?" Kael asked.

"Poland, sir," Ethan lied. He made his voice shake. "A small farm town. You wouldn't know it."

"Poland," Kael repeated. "And your parents?"

"Dead, sir. A car accident. When I was a boy."

"How sad." Kael smiled. "Tell me, do you like wolves, Mr. Cole?"

The question hit Ethan like a punch. He kept his face empty and stupid.

"Wolves, sir? I… I don't know. I've never seen one."

Behind them, Brandon laughed loudly. "Count Kael, please. Don't waste your time. He washes dishes for a living. He doesn't know anything."

Kael kept looking at Ethan for three more seconds. Then he stepped back and smiled.

"Of course. Forgive me. Old men ask strange questions." He waved his hand. "Go. Get some air, Mr. Cole."

Ethan nodded quickly and pulled Sophia away.

He did not breathe until they were on the other side of the room.

They stood on a quiet stone balcony outside the hall. The night air was cold. Sophia wrapped her arms around herself.

"Ethan," she whispered. "What was that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't do that. Don't pretend." She turned to face him. "That man asked me your real name. Then he asked you about wolves. Wolves, Ethan. Like the wolf on the ring in your coat."

"It's a coincidence."

"Stop lying to me!" Her voice cracked. "I'm not stupid! Ever since the anniversary dinner, everything is strange. You disappear at night. I've heard your window open. Men are sitting in cars outside our house. The contract came back like magic. And now a count from Ardenia looks at you like he's seen a ghost!"

Ethan said nothing.

"Who are you?" Sophia asked. Her eyes were wet. "Please. I'm your wife. Just tell me who you really are."

Ethan looked at her. At her beautiful face, full of fear and confusion. He wanted so badly to tell her everything.

But he knew the truth would put a target on her back forever.

"I'm just Ethan," he said quietly.

Sophia stared at him. Then she shook her head and wiped her eyes.

"Fine," she said coldly. "Keep your secrets."

She walked back inside.

Ethan closed his eyes and leaned on the stone wall. He felt like the worst man alive.

When he went back into the hall, someone was waiting for him.

An old man with a white beard and a walking stick. He was short and round, and he wore an old-fashioned black suit with a tiny blue flower pinned to the jacket.

Ethan stopped walking.

He knew that blue flower. It was the flower of Ardenia. And he knew this man.

Lord Henry Bramwell. Seventy-eight years old. Twelve years ago, he had been his father's closest advisor. When Viktor took the throne, Bramwell ran to London. For ten years, he had secretly sent money to Ethan's network.

They had never met in person since that terrible night. All their contact was through Leo and coded messages.

Now Bramwell stood ten feet away, staring at Ethan with tears in his old eyes.

He did not say a word. He did not bow. He was too smart for that. He simply lifted his glass of wine a little, the way you do when you toast someone you love. Then he put his hand over his heart for one second.

Ethan gave him the smallest nod.

Then Bramwell turned and walked slowly toward the far end of the hall.

Ethan's phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from Leo.

*Bramwell is there tonight. He has information for you. Very important. He will find a way to give it to you before he leaves.*

Ethan put the phone away. He watched the old man move through the crowd. Bramwell stopped to talk to a few guests. He laughed. He drank. He looked like any other rich old man at a party.

But Ethan noticed something else.

Across the room, Count Kael was watching Bramwell too.

And Kael was not smiling anymore.

---

At ten o'clock, the man in the red jacket stepped back onto the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please raise your glasses. A toast to our honored guest, Count Kael, and to the great Kingdom of Ardenia."

Everyone raised their glasses. The room filled with the sound of clinking crystal.

Ethan did not raise his glass. His eyes were moving around the room. Something felt wrong. He couldn't say what. It was like the air before a storm.

Then he saw it.

A waiter near the back wall. Young, with short blond hair. He wasn't carrying a tray anymore. His right hand was inside his white jacket. And he was looking directly at Lord Bramwell.

Ethan started moving.

He pushed past a woman in a green dress. He pushed past the old Italian duke. People complained, but he didn't care.

The blond waiter took one step toward Bramwell.

Ethan was still too far away. Thirty feet. Twenty-five.

Then every light in the hall went out at the same time.

Total darkness.

Women screamed. Glasses fell and broke. Someone shouted, "What's happening?"

Ethan did not stop. He had been trained for this since he was a child. He remembered exactly where Sophia had been standing. Eight steps to the left. Near the big window.

He moved through the darkness, pushing people aside.

*BANG.*

A gunshot. Loud as thunder in the stone room.

The screams became louder. People were running in every direction, crashing into each other.

Ethan reached the window. In the pale moonlight, he saw Sophia's silver dress. She was frozen in fear.

He grabbed her and pulled her down to the floor, covering her body with his own.

"Ethan?" she gasped.

"Stay down. Don't move."

Then he felt someone running toward them in the dark. Fast footsteps. Heavy breathing. The blond waiter, trying to escape through the window behind them.

Ethan stood up in one quick move. He caught the man's arm and twisted it hard. Something metal fell to the floor. The man cried out. Ethan swept his legs, and the man crashed down onto the marble. One more fast hit, and he stopped moving.

The whole fight took less than three seconds.

Sophia stared at her husband's dark shape in the moonlight. She could not believe what she had just seen.

The lights came back on.

The room was chaos. People were hiding under tables. Diane was crying. Chloe was screaming. Guards were running in from every door with guns in their hands.

Ethan quickly stepped back from the unconscious waiter. He let his shoulders drop again. He made his face look shocked and afraid, like everyone else.

But nobody was looking at him.

Everyone was looking at the middle of the room.

Lord Henry Bramwell lay on the floor in a pool of red. His walking stick was next to him. His blue flower had fallen from his jacket.

"No," Ethan whispered.

He ran to the old man and dropped to his knees beside him. Bramwell was still breathing, but barely. His face was gray.

"Call an ambulance!" someone shouted.

Bramwell's eyes opened slowly. He saw Ethan's face above him, and he smiled weakly.

With his last strength, the old man grabbed Ethan's hand. He pressed something small and hard into his palm. A tiny key.

"Your Highness," Bramwell whispered. His voice was weak, but in the sudden silence of the room, it carried. "Forgive me. I was going to tell you tonight. Someone close to you… someone you trust… the traitor is—"

His hand went loose.

His eyes stayed open, but the light inside them was gone.

Ethan stared down at the old man's face. His hand closed around the little key.

Then, from right behind him, he heard a voice. A soft, shaking voice he knew better than any other.

"Ethan."

He turned slowly.

Sophia stood over him, her silver dress stained with red at the bottom. Her face was white. Her eyes were huge.

"Ethan," she whispered again. "Why did that man call you Your Highness?”