The Firefighter Returns as a Quintillionaire King

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The sleek black Mercedes glided through the city streets, the leather interior pristine and silent except for the soft hum of the engine. 

Lisa sat in the driver's seat, her hands gripping the steering wheel with practiced precision. Ben occupied the passenger seat, his expression carefully crafted into one of pitiful concern.

"Lisa," Ben said softly, touching his jaw where a faint bruise was forming. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

"Don't be ridiculous," Lisa replied, her voice clipped and businesslike. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"But your marriage—" Ben's voice trembled slightly, just enough to sound genuine. "I've caused problems between you and Alex. Maybe I should just find somewhere else to stay. I don't want to be the reason you two are fighting."

Lisa's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Alex is the problem, not you. He's always been narrow-minded, jealous, insecure. I've tolerated it for three years, but this is the last straw."

"He seemed really angry," Ben said carefully. "Maybe he just doesn't understand our relationship."

"What's to understand?" Lisa's tone was ice-cold. "You're my brother and my most trusted business partner. We've built an empire together. The merger with Harrison Industries is the biggest deal of our careers, and Alex can't even support me through it. Instead, he throws tantrums like a child."

Ben suppressed a smile, turning his face toward the window so Lisa wouldn't see. "I just feel bad that he sees me as a threat. I would never—"

"I know you wouldn't," Lisa interrupted. "You've been nothing but professional and supportive. Alex, on the other hand, has shown his true colors. He's not tolerant, not understanding, not mature enough to handle the demands of my career. A man like that doesn't deserve to be my husband."

"Are you sure?" Ben asked, though internally he was celebrating. "I mean, you've been together for three years. That has to count for something."

Lisa's expression didn't soften. "Three wasted years with someone who doesn't respect me or my work. Someone who would rather wallow in self-pity than understand what's actually important."

Ben nodded solemnly, but inside, he was laughing. 

The fool had actually punched him, making everything so much easier. 

Lisa was already halfway to divorce in her mind. All Ben had to do was play the victim a little longer, and everything would fall into place exactly as he'd planned.

"You're too good for him anyway," Ben said quietly. "You deserve someone who understands your ambitions, your drive. Someone who can actually keep up with you."

Lisa said nothing, but Ben caught the slight upturn of her lips. Perfect.

Alex found himself standing outside a rundown motel on the outskirts of downtown. 

The neon sign flickered "Starlight Motor Inn," though half the letters were burnt out, leaving only "Star Mo In" glowing weakly in the darkening evening.

It was cheap, anonymous, and exactly what he needed right now.

He paid cash for the room—a dingy single on the third floor—and made his way up the stairwell, his crutches echoing against the concrete. 

The hallway smelled of cigarette smoke and cleaning chemicals. Room 317. Home sweet home.

Alex fumbled with the key card, his duffel bag slung awkwardly over one shoulder. Just as he got the door open, he heard rapid footsteps behind him.

Before he could turn around, a woman stumbled into him with surprising force, nearly knocking him off balance. 

She grabbed his arm desperately and pushed past him into the room.

"Hey! What the—"

"Please," she gasped, her voice thick and slurred. "Please, they're coming. Hide me."

Alex stood frozen in the doorway, one foot inside the room, one foot out. 

The woman collapsed against the wall, her breathing ragged. Her dark auburn hair was disheveled, her white blouse half-untucked from her pencil skirt. 

She looked professional—or she had been, before whatever had happened to her.

Then Alex heard them. Heavy footsteps. Male voices.

"Where did that bitch go?"

"She came up this way. Check every floor!"

"Boss is gonna kill us if we lose her."

Instinct took over. Alex quickly stepped fully into the room and pulled the door almost closed, leaving it open just a crack. He pressed himself against the wall beside the doorframe, trying to look casual despite his heart hammering in his chest.

Three men appeared in the hallway.

They were big, rough-looking, with the kind of build that suggested they spent more time in gyms and back alleys than boardrooms. 

The one in front had a scar running down his cheek and wore too much gold jewelry.

"Hey!" Scar-face called out, spotting Alex. "You see a woman come through here? Dark hair, white shirt?"

Alex shook his head, keeping his expression neutral. "Just got here myself. Hallway was empty when I came up."

The men exchanged glances. Scar-face squinted at Alex suspiciously. "You sure about that?"

"Positive. Like I said, just arrived. Haven't seen anyone." Alex gestured to his crutches leaning against the wall. "I'm not exactly in a position to be chasing women, if you know what I mean."

One of the other men, shorter but wider, grunted. "She probably went to the next floor. Come on."

"Check your room anyway," Scar-face demanded.