The Tyrant's Return : From Beggar to Sovereign

Chapter 20: The Underworld Queen Bows

The massive casino hall became so quiet that you could hear the water dripping from the wet coats of the men at the door. The twenty casino guards who had surrounded Ethan felt their hands go completely cold.

Their heavy steel batons began to shake. Marcus Vance, who was still clutching his broken wrist on top of the green poker table, lifted his sweaty, bloody face. His eyes went wide with a sudden, desperate hope.

Cynthia Thorne was the most feared name in the entire city underworld. She controlled the shipping docks, the private banks, and every single underground business. Marcus thought his older brother had called her to save them.

"Queen Cynthia!" Marcus cried out, tears of pain running down his purple cheeks. "Thank god you are here! This dirty beggar broke into my VIP lounge! He ruined my poker table, he stole my money, and he broke my wrist! Kill him! Wipe his entire family out of the city!"

Cynthia Thorne did not look at Marcus. She did not even give him a glance. Her high black leather boots clicked sharply against the marble floor as she walked past the rows of gambling tables.

Her long blood red trench coat flowed behind her like a wave of fire. Her fifty elite armored mercenaries marched right behind her, their heavy boots making a loud thumping sound that shook the crystal chandeliers above.

She walked straight up the carpeted stairs of the VIP lounge. The twenty casino guards quickly stepped backward, opening a wide path for her because they were too terrified to stand in her way.

Cynthia stopped exactly three feet away from Ethan.

Marcus was grinning widely, waiting to see Ethan’s head get chopped off. But what happened next made everyone in the room completely lose their minds.

Cynthia Thorne, the ruthless queen who never smiled and never bowed to any man, suddenly placed her right hand over her heart. She dropped to both her knees right in front of Ethan, lowering her beautiful head until it almost touched his wet leather shoes.

"Supreme Master Ethan," Cynthia said, her sharp, deadly voice filled with absolute respect and deep loyalty. "The Thorne family was late to protect you. Please grant me my punishment."

Behind her, the fifty elite armored mercenaries instantly dropped down to one knee at the exact same time, their metal armor clanking loudly against the floor. "Welcome back, Supreme Master!" they shouted in a giant, unified voice that echoed through the entire building.

Marcus’s jaw dropped open so wide it looked like it would snap. The rich young heirs who were hiding under the sofas gasped so hard they nearly choked.

Cynthia Thorne was actually a secret branch servant of the grand Vance Supreme Family. Ten years ago, Ethan’s grandfather had saved Cynthia’s father from a deadly trap and gave her family the money to rule the city underworld. Her loyalty was not to the fake prince Julian or the thug Marcus. Her loyalty belonged entirely to the true king, Ethan Vance.

Ethan looked down at Cynthia, his handsome face remaining perfectly calm and hard. "Rise, Cynthia. Clean this room up. They are making too much noise."

"Yes, Master," Cynthia said, standing up smoothly. The submissive look on her face vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, murderous glare as she turned around to face the twenty casino guards.

"Drop your weapons in three seconds," Cynthia ordered the guards, her voice sounding like a sharp metal blade. "If I see a single piece of steel in your hands after that, my men will make sure you never walk again."

One. Two.

*Clatter! Clatter! Clatter!*

The twenty bouncers did not even wait for the number three. They threw their heavy steel batons onto the floor as fast as they could, their faces pale with pure horror. They raised their hands high in the air and fell to their knees, begging for their lives.

Cynthia's armored mercenaries rushed forward like a black wave, kicking the batons away and pushing the guards flat against the walls, tying their hands with thick plastic zip ties.

Marcus tried to slide off the poker table to crawl away toward a hidden back door, but Cynthia noticed his movement instantly. She stepped forward, her black leather boot swinging out in a fast, brutal kick.

*Thud!*

The toe of her hard leather boot slammed right into Marcus’s ribs. Marcus let out a loud gasp as two of his ribs cracked under the force. He fell heavily onto the hard floor, rolling in his own spilled whiskey and blood. Before he could move, a heavy mercenary boot stepped right on his neck, pinning his face flat against the cold tiles.

Ethan walked over slowly, standing right above the pinned gang leader. He reached down into Marcus’s red velvet coat pocket and pulled out the tiny, glittering glass vial. Inside, the dark purple fluid shined under the light. The antidote.

Ethan handed the vial to Thomas immediately. "Take this to the hospital. Let the doctors check it and give it to Lily. Go now."

"Yes, Chairman," Thomas said with a deep bow, holding the glass tube like it was the most precious diamond in the world. He turned around and rushed out of the casino with four armored guards protecting him.

Ethan looked down at Marcus, his boot stepping on Marcus’s broken wrist, pressing down just enough to make the giant hitman scream in absolute agony. "The game is over, Marcus. Your gang is destroyed, your money is mine, and I have the cure. You have lost everything."

Marcus lay there in the puddle of blood, his body shaking violently from the intense physical pain. He knew he was completely finished. His family real estate empire was gone, his brother Julian was ruined, and he was going to prison for the rest of his life. But suddenly, a wild, demonic light flashed deep inside his bloodshot eyes.

A terrible, wicked smile split across his bloody teeth, and he began to chuckle. The chuckle turned into a loud, frantic, and insane laugh that echoed horribly through the ruined VIP lounge.

"You think you won, Ethan?" Marcus laughed bloodily, spit and red fluid spraying from his lips as he glared up at the true king. "You think you can just take your throne back and play the grand sovereign? You are too stupid! You spent three years washing toilets for the Millers while we were planning your total destruction!"

Ethan’s eyes narrowed into two deadly, sharp slits. He pressed his boot down harder on the broken bone, but Marcus just laughed louder, his voice filled with pure, unadulterated malice.

"Go ahead and kill me!" Marcus gasped, his chest heaving up and down against the floor. "It won't change a thing! You think the poison was the only plan? My brother Julian isn't a fool! While you were busy playing cards with me in this basement, Julian took a gasoline can and fifty men!"

Marcus laughed bloodily: "You're too late. Julian is burning your father's old office right now to destroy the original ledger!"