The Return of The Zillionaire Heir

Chapter 3: The Return of The Heir

$5000?

Ethan looked at the paper at his feet and saw what she had given him. Anger coursed through him. Was this how she had always seen him? as nothing more than the pauper she married.

He was convinced now that their marriage had been a joke. Ethan gritted, "Don't insult me, Bella."

She didn't uncross her arms over her chest, and neither did she take the money back. “You can take the house. I'm willing to part with it for your sake."

"I don't need your money! I just need an explanation. Why did you show up on the altar three years ago?"

Ethan had given up so much to be the man she wanted him to be. His parents had opposed their marriage because they hated her family. They were rivals, but that was something Bella never knew.

He had abandoned home to be with her, and just three years later, she was in the arms of another man, slapping it in his face that he had no money.

"Because it was the right thing to do. I loved you, Ethan."

He felt like an even bigger fool when she used the past tense. This was the end.

His heart ached. "You know we were good."

Marco held Bella close as he shouted, "Security!"

Ethan’s eyes locked with hers for the last time. He didn’t know what he thought he would find there. Remorse? A little bit of regret that she had just thrown everything they had together away?

The resort’s security finally caught up with him. Hands grabbed him roughly. Ethan tried to fight to be free, but it was of no use. He looked over his shoulder, and the last thing he saw was Marco and Bella lip-locking again.

“Let me go!” He shouted at the security guard’s manhandling of him.

They tossed him out of the resort in a lump. The gates shut in his face. When Ethan angrily kicked the bars of the locked gate and turned around, he came face-to-face with Beckham.

His eyes scanned the two black cars that were before him now and the gloves his brother-in-law—the former one—currently wore.

“What are you doing here?” He snarled, making his way past them, like they hadn’t come for him.

It was possible, but Ethan knew that look in Beckham’s eyes well. Things were about to get ugly.

Beckham stood in his path. “Not yet, in-law. We have unfinished business.”

“You threw me out of my own home. Drenched me in wine and split my marriage—“

“Bella left you.” An evil smirk played on his face. “My mother and I had no hand in your failure, Ethan.”

Ethan pursed his lips in anger. “What do you want from me this time?"

Beckham looked over his shoulder, signaling to the men in black behind him. Ethan watched them come forward. He still remained at a spot, not knowing whether choosing not to run was the cowardly move.

“Well, Ethan. I must teach you a lesson. Just a small one, though."Beckham stepped forward, placing a cold hand on his shoulder. “You see, all rats need to be cut off the right way."

A punch landed on his face before he knew it. Ethan stumbled from the force of it, almost falling to the side. He held his face, taking steps back from them as they cornered him.

The men Beckham came with grabbed him, leading him to the second car. They tossed him in the back seat and slipped in after him, caging him in the center.

Then, the carcade moved out of the premises.

With a busted lip, Ethan eyed the men flanking him on the car seat. “Get it done already.”

“Any last words, rat?" The man on the left grabbed him by the nape of his hair, exposing his neck.

The pain in his scalp was unbearable, but they hadn’t even started with him yet, and Ethan knew it. He braced himself.

He also spat in the man’s face. “Piss off!”

A punch in his gut was his response, and more followed. They beat him to a pulp, and he could do nothing about it. Ethan hadn’t even gotten one hit for himself. He was outnumbered.

a while later. The car stopped moving. Ethan could only keep one eye halfway open. Blood coated his face. His bones weren’t in place. He thought he would die.

Someone opened the door. The men dropped down. Beckham stood at the entrance, bending his head to peer into the space.

“I know my sister offered you her mansion, but you will not take it. You also won’t be taking this.” Beckham shook the check before him.

“Was this really all for nothing?” Ethan pitifully managed to form his sentences; he had even lost a tooth. “I wasn’t even planning on taking a dime from Bella.”

“Liar.” Beckham wore a fascinated smile. “You’d starve without your beloved wife. Cabbage cutting can’t pay the bills, in law, because the bills are always plenty.”

“And 5000 dollars is supposed to?” Ethan couldn’t even scowl; his face hurt.

Beckham sighed like he was in a conversation with a fool. “Technically, you’d have a house under your name. That changes everything."

“I don’t want to have anything to do with you monsters. You and your sister can go to hell!"

“No, Ethan. You are the only one heading there,” Beckham said, landing the last punch that had Ethan’s world blacking out.

When he awakened, it was past midnight. He raised his head, noticing that this was his workplace. The back alley

Ethan couldn’t stand. He had to crawl to leave the alley, get to the street, and find help. It took him a while, but he was determined to survive.

He finally made it. However, he was weak. He lay on the edge of the wall, looking at the cars passing on the two-lane road. Time stopped as he watched.

Until suddenly, a fleet of black cars stopped before him on the curb—even more than the numbers Beckham had come to kidnap him with.

Ethan raised his scared eyes at the man in a suit who approached him. This fleet was his.

“Who…Who…are you?” Ethan said in a weak voice, his eyelids drooping tiredly. He had no fight left inside him.

But then the man bowed before him. “Young Master, your loyal servant has come to take you home.”