The Night My Wife Left, I Made $500 Trillion From Crypto

Paradise Hotel

After Lois and Damian left, Ethan stepped into the cramped apartment he had shared with Lois for five years and started packing.

Ethan moved quickly. He grabbed his laptop, the only valuable possession he had, and packed a few changes of clothes into a well-worn duffel bag.

He didn’t bring along anything that would remind him of Lois. He burned their old wedding picture frame in the backyard, watching it go up in flames. The moment the last ashes fall, his last drop of love for her vanished.

Twenty minutes later, he stood in the doorway, taking one last look at the apartment. It marked the end of one chapter and the start of a new arc in his life.

He hobbled back to his truck and threw his belongings onto the passenger seat. As he slid behind the wheel, he noticed that the rain had begun to let up, the storm giving way to a gentle drizzle.

Ethan started the engine and pulled away from the curb. He knew exactly where he was going.

Paradise Hotel—the very same place where his old classmates had hosted the reunion.

* * * *

The drive to Paradise Hotel took less than twenty minutes. As Ethan drove into the circular driveway, he realized he felt lighter than ever before. Maybe it's due to the fact that he no longer cared about Lois.

He parked his beat-up Ford Ranger between a Mercedes and a BMW. The contrast was almost laughable, but Ethan didn't care. He was wealthy enough to buy both cars if he wanted to.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up his crutches, climbed out of the truck, and headed toward the entrance.

The lobby was empty since it was already past midnight. Only a small number of people roamed the area, as hotel employees worked to keep things organized.

As Ethan moved toward the reception desk, he noticed some of the staff watching him funny. Whispers passed between them as their eyes followed his every move.

He reached the reception desk and cleared his throat. The receptionist, a young woman with sharp features and an even sharper gaze, looked up from her computer screen. Her professional smile slipped briefly when she recognized him.

"Welcome to Paradise Hotel," she said, her tone sharp and clipped. "How may I assist you?"

"I need a room," Ethan said, his voice flat.

The receptionist's gaze shifted briefly to his crutches, then to his drenched, wrinkled suit. She pressed her lips together. "I'm sorry, sir, but the cheapest room we have available goes for $5,000 a night."

Ethan frowned. "I want the best room in the house. The ones you usually reserve for celebrities and politicians."

The receptionist raised her eyebrows in surprise.

A soft, scornful laugh escaped her lips. "That would be our presidential suite, sir. It's $300,000 per night."

She paused and folded her hands on the counter. "Please don't waste your time trying to haggle the price. That’s something you can’t pay for."

Ethan leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "What is the meaning of this nonsense? Do I know you? Do you know me? What makes you think I can't pay for your presidential suite?"

The receptionist's smile turned icy. "Because you can't, sir. Just so you know, we managed your high school reunion this evening. We saw what happened between you and your wife in the banquet hall, and to be honest, we were not impressed."

Behind him, Ethan heard a bellhop snicker. "Hey, isn't that the guy who got his wife stolen by his friend?"

Another staff member joined in. "You mean the one whose wife dumped his ass for his best friend? I heard that guy is a billionaire. I can't say I blame her. I would have thrown myself at him rather than live with a poverty-stricken man all my life."

Laughter spread through the small group of staff members gathered nearby. They didn't even try to hide their amusement.

Ethan's jaw tightened, and his fists clenched at his sides.

The reunion had ended, and his old classmates had left the hotel to drive back home, but the humiliation he suffered remained fresh and raw. Now, even the hotel staff had started mocking him.

However, what they didn't know was that he was no longer the same man who had entered this hotel just hours before.

He slammed his fist on the counter, the sharp crack echoing through the lobby. The laughter died instantly. The receptionist flinched, her eyes widening.

"I want to speak to your manager," Ethan demanded, his voice cold and commanding. "Now."

The receptionist stared at Ethan like he had lost his mind. Her lips curled into a sneer as she let out a dismissive scoff.

"Why on earth should I call my manager for you?" she said, her voice thick with contempt. "What are you going to tell him? That I couldn't find a cheap room for you?"

Ethan's eyes narrowed, a cold fire burning in them. "No," he said, his voice deep and menacing. "I'm going to tell him that I want each and every one of you fired for mocking me."

The receptionist threw her head back and laughed. It was a harsh, mocking sound that echoed through the empty lobby.

"I dare you to try!" she said, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Now get lost, or I'll call security and have you thrown out on your pathetic face."

At that moment, a deep voice broke through the tension in the lobby.

"What's going on here?"

Everyone turned to see a tall, distinguished man in an immaculate black suit approaching the reception counter. On his breast pocket, the nameplate displayed: Mr. Brown- General Manager.

The receptionist stiffened, her face draining of color. "Mr. Brown! Nothing's wrong, sir. I was just dismissing this man. He's causing a disturbance."

"Dismissing him?" Brown asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"

The receptionist shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Ethan with disdain.

"He's poor, sir. He's the man whose wife left him for a billionaire tonight. The one everyone was talking about during the reunion. Now he's come here demanding the presidential suite, but obviously, he can't afford it. He's just wasting our time."

Brown turned to face Ethan, his expression softening into what seemed like pity.

"I'm sorry about your situation, sir," he said, his voice kind. "However, the presidential suite is quite expensive. Are you sure you want it? Perhaps we could find something that better fits your budget?"

Ethan met the manager's gaze steadily.

"Are you the manager?" he asked calmly.

Brown nodded. "Yes, I am the General Manager of Paradise Hotel. I am in charge of the staff as well as all hotel operations."

Ethan's lips curved into a cold smile.

"Good. Then you're the person I need to speak to," he said, straightening his posture. "I want to buy this hotel. How much would it cost me?"

The lobby fell completely silent.

The receptionist's mouth dropped open. The bellhop dropped the luggage he had been holding. Even brown blinked, caught off guard for a moment.

The poor husband, whose wife left him for a billionaire, was offering to buy the most luxurious hotel in the entire city?