Chapter 4
Author: G. Ash
last update2026-06-19 00:09:10

Daniel took a deep breath and continued tidying up the room.

Every item he touched carried a memory, but he no longer let himself linger on them. With determination, he either threw them away or packed them into boxes.

When Daniel was done, the room felt empty. He bought a bottle of alcohol and sat alone in the silence, drinking by himself.

He twisted the cap off, took a long swig, and let the burning liquid slide down his throat. It stung, spreading heat to his stomach, but it was nothing compared to the ache in his broken heart.

"Daniel, look at you. You're a pathetic creature. What makes you think you deserve to be with Natalie? You're nothing but a piece of trash. Even looking at your face makes me sick!"

The door burst open with a loud crash, and Ethan strode in, flanked by a group of thugs. His voice dripped with mockery.

Daniel slowly lifted his head, his eyes hazy from the alcohol. A cold smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Humph. You've got guts coming here and picking a fight with me, Ethan."

Ethan's expression darkened at the taunt. He snapped his fingers, signaling the men behind him. "Teach him a lesson. Show this motherf*cker what happens when someone crosses the Clark family."

The thugs cracked their knuckles and closed in on Daniel.

But even drunk, Daniel's years of fighting on foreign soil had honed him into something far more dangerous than they could handle. These hooligans were nothing to him.

He swayed slightly as he pushed himself to his feet. A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes. "A bunch of idiots!"

With a sudden shout, Daniel swung his fist, landing a solid punch on the first thug to charge at him.

The man staggered back, clutching his nose as he crumpled to the ground with a groan.

The others hesitated for a split second before rushing at him, their aggression doubling.

Daniel moved with surprising speed, dodging their attacks despite his drunken state. His strikes were rough but precise, each one landing with brutal force.

Bang!

Another thug hit the ground, sprawled out from a well-aimed kick.

Ethan stood frozen near the door, his jaw tightening. He hadn't expected the drunken Daniel to fight like a trained soldier.

"Get him! All of you!" Ethan barked urgently. "If any one of you wants to quit, I'll make him pay the price!"

But eventually, the thugs fled, leaving Ethan standing alone.

Thud.

Ethan's knees buckled as Daniel slowly walked toward him. He stumbled back, falling to the floor.

"D-Daniel, don't... don't do anything stupid..." Ethan stammered, his voice shaking as fear filled his pale face.

Daniel stopped in front of him, towering over him with an air of menace. "You thought a handful of thugs would be enough to scare me?"

Ethan tried to keep his voice steady. "If you hit me, Daniel, you'll regret it."

"Regret it?" Daniel's smirk deepened. "Let's find out."

Daniel raised his foot and brought it down hard on Ethan's hand. Ethan's scream echoed through the empty room.

"Daniel, how could you treat me like this? You'll pay for this, I swear! Don't forget, I'm with Mr. Jones!" Ethan's voice was hoarse, his eyes blazing with a mix of rage and desperation.

Daniel let out a cold sneer, pressing his foot down harder. "Mr. Jones, huh? No one can save you today."

Ethan's face twisted in pain. "You'll regret this, Daniel! Mr. Jones won't let you off!"

Daniel leaned in closer, his voice dripping with mockery. "Oh, really? I'd love to see what he can do to me."

He straightened and gestured dismissively. "Call him. Let's see what happens."

Daniel finally released Ethan and sank onto the couch, his mood already foul before Ethan barged in. Now that Ethan tried to cause him trouble, Daniel was going to teach him a lesson.

"Fine! Just you wait!" Ethan fumbled for his phone, his hands trembling as he dialed a number. Beeps came from the other side of the phone, but no one picked up.

"Mr. Jones must be busy," Ethan muttered. He glared at Daniel and spat, "Consider yourself lucky today. But don't think this is over!"

Daniel scoffed as he looked at Ethan in disdain. "Ethan, do you think your empty threats scare me? If you're so confident, bring him here. I'd love to see what he's got."

Ethan's face darkened, but he didn't dare push further. He shot Daniel a final glare before storming out of the room, his retreat filled with silent defeat.

Daniel watched him go, his lips curling into a cold smirk. He leaned back on the couch, grabbed a bottle of liquor, and took another long drink.

The room was a mess. Torn pieces of a marriage certificate littered the floor, and the sharp smell of alcohol hung heavy in the air, mingling with the chaos left behind from the fight.

Daniel's gaze drifted. No matter how much he drank, the ache in his chest refused to fade.

"Natalie... why did it have to end like this..." he murmured to himself, his voice filled with endless sorrow and helplessness.

Daniel finally passed out, the bottle slipping from his hand as he sank into a heavy, drunken sleep.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the window, warming his face. Daniel stirred, his head pounding as he slowly opened his eyes.

The mess in the room greeted him like a cruel reminder, and the events of the previous night came rushing back.

"Well, what's done is done," he muttered, his voice rough. "Time to move on."

He pushed himself up and began tidying the room.

The next moment, the doorbell rang. Daniel froze, frowning. 'Could it be Ethan again?' he thought.

He walked to the door and opened it cautiously. Standing on the other side was a man he didn't recognize.

"Who are you?" Daniel asked, his tone guarded.

The man gave a faint smile. "I'm Samuel Lee, the butler of the Scott family. Mr. Cooper, my master would like to meet you."

Daniel's eyes narrowed slightly. "And who is your master?"

Samuel's smile didn't waver as he slowly said, "Mr. Robert Scott, the richest man in this city."

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