The Tyrant's Return : From Beggar to Sovereign

Chapter 23: The Uninvited Guest

The cold rain continued to pour down into the dark, muddy alleyway, washing the black soot away from old Mr. Harris’s wrinkled face.

The burning building behind them let out another loud, cracking groan as the second floor collapsed into a pile of bright orange sparks.

But Ethan did not turn around to look at the destruction. His entire body went completely rigid as the old accountant’s words echoed inside his head.

Julian had the ledger. The original book that proved his father did not commit suicide, but was actually murdered by the greedy snakes of the secondary branch.

And right now, Julian was using that sacred book as a cheap piece of meat to sell to some mysterious shadow buyer.

"Where is the gala, Mr. Harris?" Ethan demanded, his voice dropping into a terrifyingly low, sharp whisper that cut right through the sound of the falling rain.

Mr. Harris coughed heavily, clutching Ethan’s solid arm with his weak, shaking fingers. "The Grand Crystal Palace Ballroom downtown. It is the annual High Society Charity Gala.

Every billionaire and politician is there tonight. Julian is desperate, Master Ethan. Since your financial blockade froze all his family bank accounts, he is trying to sell the ledger for fifty million dollars in cash to a foreign businessman to pay off his debts and flee the country."

Ethan stood up slowly, his eyes flashing with a deadly, dark light. He looked down at the old accountant. "Cynthia's men will be here in two minutes to take you to a safe hospital, Mr. Harris. Your loyalty to my father will be highly rewarded."

Without waiting another second, Ethan turned around and sprinted out of the alleyway. He ran straight back to Marcus’s custom gold sports car, jumped into the driver's seat, and slammed his foot down on the gas pedal.

The powerful engine let out a deafening roar, and the luxury car tore out of the industrial district like a streak of golden lightning, heading straight toward the center of the city.

The Grand Crystal Palace Ballroom was the most expensive and exclusive event center in the entire state. Tonight, the grand building was surrounded by bright, flashing spotlights that stretched high up into the cloudy night sky.

Dozens of million-dollar luxury limousines were lined up along the smooth marble driveway, dropping off rich men in expensive silk suits and wealthy ladies covered in glittering diamond necklaces.

Ethan brought the gold sports car to a screeching stop right at the main entrance, not even bothering to use the valet parking. He stepped out of the vehicle, completely ignoring the shocked stares of the security guards.

He had thrown away his tuxedo jacket earlier in the fire. His white button-down shirt was soaked with rain, his sleeves were ripped, and his skin was smudged with black ash from saving Mr. Harris.

He looked completely wild, dangerous, and completely out of place among the ultra-rich crowd.

Two massive guards in black suits quickly stepped forward, blocking the grand glass doors with angry faces. "Stop right there, young man! This is a private, high-society charity gala. No beggars or dirty workers are allowed inside. Move along before we call the police."

Ethan did not say a single word. He did not have time to waste on small flies. He simply stepped forward, his eyes locked on the heavy glass doors.

His presence was so cold, so dominant, and so full of terrifying authority that the two guards suddenly felt their breath catch in their throats.

Their legs began to tremble, and an instinctual, animal fear gripped their hearts. Without realizing what they were doing, they both took a step backward, completely opening the path.

Ethan pushed the heavy glass doors open and walked right into the grand ballroom.

The contrast was absolute. The massive hall was filled with the soft, sweet sound of classical violin music. Giant crystal chandeliers hung from the high gold ceiling, casting a warm, glittering glow over hundreds of wealthy guests who were sipping expensive champagne and laughing softly.

At the far end of the room was a large, elevated mahogany stage with a wooden podium, where the charity auction was taking place.

Standing right in the center of that stage was Julian Vance.

Julian had a thick white medical bandage wrapped tightly around his broken wrist from his earlier beating at the bank, but he was wearing an incredibly flashy, expensive white silk tuxedo to hide his injuries.

He looked pale, sweaty, and deeply frantic, but he was trying his best to put on a proud, arrogant smile for the wealthy crowd. Resting right on top of the velvet cushion of the podium was an old, leather-bound book with yellowed pages.

The original ledger.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Julian shouted into the microphone, his voice echoing through the massive ballroom. He was gripping the edge of the podium with his one good hand.

"We have reached the final and most exclusive item of the evening. This is a rare, historical business record from the old Vance Group archive. The starting bid for this item is an incredible twenty million dollars!"

A wealthy man sitting in the front row, dressed in a dark foreign suit, slowly raised his gold bidding paddle. "Thirty million dollars."

Julian’s eyes lit up with wild, frantic greed. Thirty million. It was enough to help him escape Ethan’s financial blockade and leave the city forever.

"Thirty million from Mr. Yamamoto! Do I hear thirty-five million? Going once, going twice..."

Ethan marched down the center aisle of the ballroom, his heavy leather boots making a loud, wet thumping sound against the pristine marble floor.

The wealthy guests nearest to the aisle turned around, their conversation instantly dying as they noticed the dirty, ash-smudged man walking past them. A wave of shocked whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire.

"Who is that dirty guy?" a rich woman gasped, holding her diamond necklace. "How did security let a homeless beggar into a five-star gala?"

Julian heard the sudden noise in the crowd and lifted his eyes from the podium.

The moment his gaze landed on Ethan’s face, Julian’s proud smile instantly froze. His face turned completely white, as pale as a bedsheet, and his body began to shake so violently that he almost dropped the microphone.

He felt as if a real ghost had just walked into the room. He thought his brother Marcus had already killed Ethan in the alleyway.

"You... how are you still alive?" Julian stammered into the microphone, his voice cracking with pure terror, forgetting that hundreds of billionaires were watching him.

Ethan did not answer him. He kept walking with long, powerful strides until he reached the front of the room. He did not hesitate for a single second. He stepped his heavy boot onto the wooden stairs, walking right up onto the elevated mahogany stage.

The rich guests stood up from their chairs, completely confused and shocked by the sudden dramatic scene. The security guards in the corners of the room began to run forward, but Ethan ignored them completely.

He walked right past the trembling Julian, stepping directly up to the microphone at the center of the podium. His dark eyes swept over the entire crowd of billionaires, freezing them instantly with his majestic, supreme authority.

Ethan steps onto the main stage, interrupting the bidding: "That book is stolen property."