The Tyrant's Return : From Beggar to Sovereign

Chapter 17: The High Stakes Entry

The dark blood from the gang leader's mouth slowly dripped onto the wet asphalt. Ethan let go of the man’s throat, letting him slide down against the cold brick wall like a sack of loose stones.

He did not look back at the three groaning thugs who were rolling in the muddy water with shattered bones. He had all the information he needed.

Forty eight hours. That was the tiny amount of time his little sister Lily had left to live before the dark poison destroyed her organs completely.

Ethan walked out of the narrow alleyway and stepped back into the warm, dry backseat of his luxury car.

Thomas immediately handed him a clean white silk cloth. Ethan calmly wiped the small line of red blood from his scraped cheek. His face did not show any pain, only an absolute, freezing calm.

"To the Golden Dragon Casino," Ethan ordered softly, his voice cutting through the quiet interior of the vehicle. "Marcus Vance is hosting his private poker game tonight. He has the antidote in his pocket."

Thomas looked at the small scratch on his master's face and gripped the steering wheel tightly. He did not ask any questions. He shifted the car into gear, and the massive vehicle surged forward into the dark, rainy night, heading toward the bright, flashing lights of the downtown entertainment district.

The Golden Dragon Casino was not a place for ordinary citizens. It was hidden deep beneath a massive five star hotel luxury tower. Only the most corrupt billionaires, wealthy young corporate heirs, and dangerous criminal bosses were allowed past the heavy steel doors. To enter, a person needed a special black invitation card and at least one million dollars in their bank account just to sit at a regular table.

Twenty minutes later, the luxury car stopped at the underground VIP entrance of the hotel. Ethan stepped out. He had changed into a fresh, perfectly tailored black tuxedo that made his broad shoulders look incredibly imposing. His dark hair was brushed back neatly, and the tiny cut on his cheek made him look like a dangerous, mysterious prince rather than a humble househusband.

He walked down the long, red carpeted tunnel leading into the main casino hall. Two massive guards dressed in dark suits stood at the gold entrance doors, their hands crossed over their chests.

"Invitation card, sir," the first guard said, his eyes scanning Ethan’s face with deep suspicion.

Thomas stepped forward from behind and silently flashed a solid gold emblem with the emblem of the supreme Vance Group.

The two guards instantly went pale. Their knees trembled slightly, and they bowed ninety degrees, opening the heavy gold doors without saying another single word. They knew that the man standing before them could buy their entire building with a snap of his fingers.

Ethan walked into the grand casino room. The air inside smelled of expensive cigars, sweet wine, and heavy perfume. The ceiling was covered in massive crystal chandeliers that cast a bright, glittering light over dozens of green felt gambling tables. Rich men in expensive silk suits were laughing loudly, while beautiful women in sparkly dresses cheered as the gold roulette wheels spun around and around.

But Ethan did not care about the glittering lights or the loud music. His sharp eyes immediately locked onto the very back of the hall, where a private, elevated VIP section was guarded by four armed men.

Sitting right in the center of that private section was Marcus Vance.

Marcus was twenty nine years old, with sharp, cruel eyes and a long scar running down the side of his neck. He was dressed in a flashy red velvet suit coat, a thick gold chain hanging around his neck, and a large diamond ring on his pinky finger. He was the older brother of Julian, but he was ten times more dangerous.

Right now, Marcus was sipping a glass of dark whiskey, laughing loudly as he collected a massive pile of million dollar gambling chips from the secondary heirs sitting around his private poker table.

Ethan walked up the small carpeted steps into the VIP section. The four armed guards stepped forward to block him, but Marcus raised his hand, a mocking, vicious smile spreading across his face.

"Well, well, well," Marcus laughed, his voice loud enough to make the nearby gamblers turn around and look. "Look who finally decided to crawl out of his hole. The famous househusband of the Miller family. The little dog who thinks he can become a king just because he got a shiny new corporate title."

The other rich heirs at the table began to snicker and laugh, looking down at Ethan as if he were a joke. They had all heard rumors about the fallen Miller family, but they did not know the true, terrifying extent of Ethan’s supreme power yet.

They thought Ethan was just a lucky peasant.

Ethan did not answer the insults. He walked over to the empty leather chair directly opposite Marcus, pulling it out and sitting down smoothly.

He crossed his long legs and rested his large hands on the edge of the green table, looking exactly like a regular, relaxed gambler who had come to play a simple game.

"You look surprised to see me, Marcus," Ethan said, his voice completely flat, his dark eyes staring straight into Marcus's soul.

Marcus stopped laughing, his eyes narrowing into two sharp slits. He leaned forward across the table, the smell of whiskey heavy on his breath. "I am surprised you can still walk, little cousin.

I sent my top boys to take care of you in the alleyway. But it doesn't matter. You walking into my casino tonight just means you are eager to lose everything you have left."

Marcus casually reached his right hand into the inner pocket of his red velvet jacket. He tapped a tiny, glittering glass object hidden inside, a cruel glint flashing in his eyes. He knew exactly why Ethan was here. He knew about Lily’s forty eight hour time limit. He wanted to watch Ethan beg on his knees, crying for mercy.

"This is a high stakes table, househusband," Marcus sneered, tossing a one million dollar chip into the center of the green felt. "We don't play for pennies here. If you don't have the real cash to match my bets, my guards will toss you out into the street like a dead dog."

Ethan smiled. It was a cold, dark, and terrifying smile that made the rich heirs at the table suddenly stop laughing. The temperature in the VIP section seemed to drop instantly.

Ethan turned his head slightly and gave Thomas a small nod.

Thomas stepped forward out of the shadows, carrying a massive, heavy black waterproof duffel bag. He set it down right in front of Ethan with a loud, heavy thud that shook the entire wooden poker table.

Ethan reached out with his long fingers and smoothly unzipped the top of the black bag, pulling it open wide for everyone to see. The bag was packed to the absolute brim with tight, neat stacks of crisp, uncirculated hundred dollar bills.

The bright green color of the money glowed under the crystal chandeliers. It was an immense, unbelievable amount of raw wealth.

The other gamblers at the table gasped loudly, their eyes widening in pure shock.

Ethan slams down a heavy duffel bag containing $5 million in cash: "Let's play for the vial in your pocket."