The Ultimate Hidden Tycoon

Ethan pushed through the crowd in the bar, looking for his wife.

The bar pounded with loud music. The air reeked of sweat, alcohol, and cologne.

The kind of place where drinks flowed as fast as bad decisions. Ethan’s hands curled into fists.

His fingers curled around his phone, a photo still glaring on the screen: Madeline Reed, his wife of three years, stepping into this very bar with another man.

A man in a tailored suit, oozing money and arrogance. His hand resting way too comfortably on her hip.

Ethan felt something sharp twist in his chest, but he forced himself to keep moving.

He needed to see this for himself. Needed to hear it from her own lips.

The moment he spotted her, his stomach dropped.

Madeline was in a private booth. Her back to him, unmistakable.

She wasn’t just talking to the guy.

She was kissing him. With togues.

The man’s hand gripped her, holding her close. The Rolex on his wrist flashed under the dim light.

Like it was mocking him.

Ethan clenched his jaw. Rage surged through him as he stormed forward.

“Madeline!”

The music was loud, but his voice cut through it like a blade.

She stiffened, tearing herself from the man’s arms and turning sharply.

When her gaze met Ethan’s, something flickered in her eyes. Guilt? Panic?

But it vanished as quickly as it came. She smoothed her hair, organizing her face into indifference.

Ethan squeezed the words out of his back teeth.

“Care to explain?”

She was wearing a red dress that clung to her body, revealing her cleavage. Her skirt was too short that she showed half her panties on the chair.

She had never bothered to dress this sexy in front of Ethan before.

She didn’t answer. Just lifted her drink, taking a slow sip.

The man beside her smirked. He leaned back, lazily draping an arm over the couch.

“Is that him?” His tone was amused when he turned to Madeline. “Your loser husband?”

Madeline’s lips curled in distaste.

“Not for much longer.”

The words hit Ethan like a sledgehammer. His mind buzzed.

He forced himself to breathe. To stay calm.

“Just come home with me,” he said, voice tight. “We’ll talk.”

Madeline let out a cold laugh. She set her drink down with a loud clink.

“Talk?”

She arched a brow.

“Talk about what? How you can’t even afford to buy me a decent gift?”

“How I wasted three years waiting for you to be someone rich?”

Ethan inhaled sharply. His fingers twitched.

“You weren't like this.” His voice was low, controlled, "When you were a little girl..."

They were just around 8 years old. That little girl was kind and innocent. Brought a bright light into the little Ethan's life.

"What little girl?" Madeline sounded puzzled, "What the fuck are you talking about. I never met you as a little girl. What are you? A creep?"

Ethan barely caught it. He flicked his gaze to the man beside her.

Robert Davenport.

A smirking bastard who was enjoying the show.

Madeline scoffed.

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“Look at yourself, Ethan. Then look at him.”

She leaned into Robert’s side, fingers tracing the expensive fabric of his suit.

“Robert drives a Bentley. Lives in a penthouse. Buys me whatever I want.” Her lips curled. “What do you have? A tiny apartment? A paycheck that barely covers rent?”

Ethan’s chest burned.

Robert snickered.

“Tough break, man.” He pulled Madeline closer to him. “But hey, at least she’s being honest.”

His fingers brushed against her dress. Like Ethan wasn’t even standing there.

Ethan let out a slow breath.

"Did you forget everything I gave you?"

Madeline’s eyes burned with cold disdain.

"Gave me?" She let out a sharp laugh. "What exactly did you give me, Ethan?"

"You ran my bath? Cooked me breakfast? Picked me up after work? You think those little things matter? Hell, even a dog could do that."

Ethan’s lips curled into a bitter smile.

"I gave you everything."

He took a step closer, voice dropping to a razor-sharp edge.

"Your company. Your wealth. Your status. You think you built all that on your own?"

"The first round of funding? I provided it."

"Your key business connections? I introduced them to you."

"When your company was on the verge of collapse, bleeding money—I filled the gap."

Madeline’s eyes widened.

Then, suddenly, she burst into laughter.

"Are you serious right now?"

Her voice dripped with mockery.

"You? A broke loser who can’t even afford a decent belt? You expect me to believe you had the money to support me?"

She scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Those investments came from anonymous backers—people who actually saw potential in my company. Not you!"

Anonymous?

Yeah. Because Ethan made it anonymous.

Because he wanted to protect her pride.

"Do you remember the ring you gave me?" Ethan asked suddenly.

"There is no more fucking ring. I threw my poor wedding ring already."

"No, the ring you gave me, years ago." Ethan emphasized.

Madeline shook her head, eyes filled with disdain.

"God, you really are pathetic. Not just poor, but delusional."

"This just proves I was right all along."

She reached into her purse, and pulled out a stack of papers.

She dropped them onto the table.

"Divorce papers," she said coolly. "Sign them. Now."