The Tyrant's Return : From Beggar to Sovereign

Chapter 24: The Grand Exposure

The words from Ethan’s mouth boomed through the giant loudspeakers, shaking the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

The entire ballroom went completely dead silent. The rich guests froze with their champagne glasses halfway to their mouths, their eyes widening in total shock.

Julian Vance gripped the edges of the wooden podium so hard his knuckles turned purple. The white bandage around his broken wrist began to stain with fresh sweat.

"You are lying!" Julian screamed into his own microphone, his voice high and frantic like a scared child. "Security! Why are you just standing there like idiots? Throw this crazy beggar out of here! He is trying to ruin a royal charity event!"

Ten heavy security guards in black suits rushed toward the stage, their leather shoes squeaking loudly against the marble. But before they could even touch the bottom step, Ethan turned his dark, freezing gaze toward them.

He did not move a single muscle, but his presence was so intense, so full of royal power, that the guards instantly stopped in their tracks. A cold sweat broke out on their necks. They felt like they were looking at a hungry lion ready to snap its jaws.

Ethan turned back to the microphone, looking directly at the foreign businessman in the front row who had just offered thirty million dollars.

"Mr. Yamamoto," Ethan said, his voice smooth, calm, and perfectly steady. "You are a smart international businessman. But if you buy that book tonight, you are throwing your thirty million dollars straight into a trash can. That ledger is a complete fake."

A giant wave of loud murmurs and shocked whispers exploded through the elite crowd.

"A fake?" Mr. Yamamoto asked, his eyebrows narrowing as he stood up from his luxury velvet seat. He looked at Julian with deep suspicion.

"Young Master Julian, what is the meaning of this? You told me this was the original, certified financial archive of the grand Vance Group."

"It is original! He is lying to save his own skin!" Julian yelled, his eyes rolling wildly with pure panic.

He looked like a trapped animal. "Ethan is just a failed delivery driver! He was kicked out of the Miller family this morning because he is a penniless loser! How could a beggar know anything about high society business documents?"

Ethan let out a low, cold laugh that cut right through Julian’s screaming. He reached out with his long, steady fingers and opened the leather cover of the old book resting on the podium. He flipped past the first ten yellowed pages, stopping at a page covered in columns of red numbers and official blue signatures.

"Look at the master seal at the bottom of page twelve," Ethan said, pointing his finger directly at a round ink stamp. "Three years ago, my late father used a special, custom made oil ink from Europe for all his official corporate seals.

That ink never changes color, even after ten years. But look closely at this stamp under the bright stage lights. The blue color is fresh, and the edges are slightly blurry. It was made with a cheap, standard office ink pad less than twenty four hours ago."

Mr. Yamamoto stepped closer to the stage, pulling a small magnifying glass from his pocket. He stared at the blue stamp for five seconds, and his face instantly turned into a mask of pure, unadulterated anger. "It is a fresh forgery! The ink is completely regular! You tried to trick me, Julian Vance!"

"No! No! It is a mistake!" Julian stammered, backing away until his back hit the giant golden curtains at the rear of the stage.

"That is not all," Ethan continued, his voice rising in power, capturing the attention of every billionaire in the room. "Julian Vance is not selling this book for charity. He is selling it because his family is completely bankrupt.

At dawn today, the supreme Vance Group canceled all their credit lines. Their real estate branches were bought out, their luxury mansions were seized by the state legal teams, and their corporate bank accounts are currently frozen solid."

Ethan pulled a thick stack of printed financial papers from his back pocket and tossed them high into the air. The white sheets of paper fluttered down from the stage like giant snowflakes, landing right into the hands of the wealthy guests in the front rows.

The billionaires quickly grabbed the papers, reading the bold red text. It was the official, certified bankruptcy notice from the Grand Imperial Bank, stamped by Manager Sterling himself.

"He is right!" a wealthy corporate lord shouted from the center row, holding up a sheet of paper. "The Julian Vance real estate group has a negative balance of forty million dollars as of two hours ago! They are completely ruined! Every check they write tonight will bounce!"

"The Miller family was also wiped out because they helped him!" another lady gasped. "His older brother Marcus is missing, and his mother in law Beatrice was arrested for attempted murder at the city hospital just an hour ago!"

The entire ballroom erupted into chaos. The wealthy guests looked at Julian with total disgust and contempt. In high society, losing your money was worse than losing your life.

A minute ago, Julian was a proud, respected prince trying to flee the country with a fortune. Now, he was exposed as a dirty, broke criminal who was trying to scam an international billionaire with a cheap piece of fake paper.

"You are finished, Julian," Ethan said softly, stepping away from the podium and walking toward the trembling young man. "You have no money. You have no status. You have no cards left to play."

Julian looked down at the crowd of billionaires who were now pointing their fingers and shouting curses at him. He looked at Mr. Yamamoto, who was already calling his lawyers to file a massive fraud lawsuit. He looked at Ethan, who was standing right in front of him, looking like an undisputed king who had just crushed a tiny bug under his boot.

The total ruin of his entire life happened in less than ten minutes. The intense humiliation, the absolute loss of his wealth, and the terrifying fear of going to a dark prison cell drove Julian completely insane. His brain snapped. The proud, elegant prince vanished, leaving only a manic, dangerous beast.

He turned his wild, bloodshot eyes toward the far corners of the stage, where the gala’s private, heavily armed security team was stationed. These were elite, private mercenaries hired to protect the billion dollar jewelry displays in the lobby, and they carried real, heavy weapons beneath their jackets.

Julian screams at the gala's private security guards: "Shoot this interloper! I will pay you a million each!"