The Tyrant's Return : From Beggar to Sovereign

Chapter 15: The Viper in the Shadow

The words from the doctor’s mouth felt like a frozen blade stabbing into Ethan’s chest. Slowly poisoned over two years. The room felt incredibly small, and the air turned heavy. Lily had not fallen into a coma because of a simple car mistake.

Someone had purposefully put toxic chemicals into her food, her water, or her medicine for twenty-four months while she was still a happy high school student.

"Who did this?" Ethan asked. His voice was not loud. It was a very low, quiet whisper, but it carried the terrifying weight of an oncoming avalanche.

Dr. Evans pulled a small glass tube from a silver box on his desk. Inside the tube was a dark, purple fluid that looked like liquid shadow.

"This is a rare chemical called Black Drop. It is an illegal substance made in the dirty underground labs of the city slums. Normal people can never buy this stuff. You have to know the darkest criminals in the street to get a single drop of it."

Ethan took the manila folder from the desk. He did not say thank you. He just turned around, his long blue suit coat swinging behind him as he walked out of the office. His eyes were entirely black with a burning, deadly fury.

The Miller family had abused him for three years, but this went beyond simple greed. This was a calculated attempt to destroy his bloodline.

Ten minutes later, Ethan was sitting in the back of his silent luxury vehicle. Thomas was driving smoothly through the heavy sheets of rain, his old eyes looking at Ethan through the front mirror.

"Thomas," Ethan ordered, staring out at the flashing neon lights of the passing buildings. "Call our shadow network. Find out who has been buying the Black Drop chemical in Cresthaven Metropolis over the last two years. I want a name in five minutes."

"Yes, Chairman," Thomas replied. He tapped a hidden button on his steering wheel, speaking into a secure wireless microphone.

The silence inside the car was deafening. The only sound was the swish-swish of the rubber wipers clearing the water from the front glass. Ethan clenched his jaws tightly.

He thought about Lily’s pale face, her tiny hands, and how she had suffered in silence while he was busy washing Chloe’s luxury cars. He felt a deep, bitter regret. If he had broken his grandfather's vow just one day earlier, maybe he could have saved her from this poison.

*BZZZ.*

Thomas’s digital tablet on the dashboard flashed with a bright red notification. A long list of secret bank transfers and text messages appeared on the screen. Thomas read the data quickly, and his face turned completely white.

"Young Master," Thomas gasped, his hands shaking slightly on the leather steering wheel. "The data is clear. The poison was purchased by an underground street gang called the Black Cobras.

They operate out of the old abandoned docks on the east side of the city. But that is not all. The gang did not work alone. They received a monthly payment of fifty thousand dollars to buy the poison."

"Who sent the money?" Ethan asked, his voice completely flat.

"Marcus Vance," Thomas whispered. "Julian’s older brother. He is the real muscle behind the secondary Vance real estate family. He uses the street gangs to wipe out anyone who stands in his way."

Ethan let out a cold, sharp breath. Marcus Vance. Julian was just a stupid, boastful idiot who wanted a pretty wife and a flashy car. But Marcus was a true snake.

Marcus must have found out about Ethan’s true identity years ago, and he tried to kill Lily to weaken the supreme Vance family line before Ethan could take the throne.

"Stop the car," Ethan ordered suddenly.

Thomas stepped on the brakes, bringing the heavy vehicle to a smooth stop next to a narrow, dark alleyway. The area was surrounded by old brick warehouses with broken windows and flickering streetlights. It was the border of the criminal district.

"Young Master, it is too dangerous for you to go alone," Thomas warned, looking out into the dark. "Let me call Captain Iron and the elite forces to clear the street."

"No," Ethan said, opening the car door and stepping out into the freezing rain. "This is personal. Stay here."

He slammed the door shut and walked into the dark street. The rain soaked through his suit jacket, but he didn't care. His mind was focused entirely on Marcus Vance. He walked down the cracked pavement, his leather shoes splashing in the deep puddles of muddy water. The street was completely empty.

The factories were locked, and the nearby streetlights were dead, leaving the entire area covered in long, twisted shadows.

Ethan walked for three minutes, his sharp eyes scanning every corner. He was a trained fighter, and his senses were incredibly sharp. He knew that when you hunt a snake, the snake will try to bite back.

Suddenly, Ethan stopped walking. He stood perfectly still in the middle of the dark pavement.

The wind blew hard, making a low, whistling sound through the rusty metal sheets of the warehouse roofs.

But beneath the sound of the wind and the falling rain, Ethan heard something else. It was a very tiny, soft scraping sound. The sound of leather boots shifting slightly against the wet gravel behind a stack of old wooden shipping crates.

He felt a sudden, heavy presence in the air. The temperature around him seemed to drop even lower. Someone was watching him from the darkness. Someone with a very strong, murderous intent.

Ethan did not turn his head around. He kept his back to the crates, his hands resting loosely inside his wet suit pockets. He was waiting for the enemy to make the first move.

"Marcus sent you?" Ethan asked the empty darkness, his voice echoing off the brick walls.

Nobody answered him. The silence returned, thicker and more dangerous than before. The rain kept pouring down, obscuring the vision of any ordinary person.

But Ethan could feel the exact direction of the hidden threat. The air behind him shifted violently. A sudden, sharp whistling sound cut through the noise of the storm. It was moving at a lightning-fast speed, aimed directly at the back of his neck.

Ethan’s reflexes kicked in instantly. He tilted his head to the left by just one single inch.

A hidden knife flies from the shadows, scraping Ethan's cheek.